Page 5 of Christmas Kisses (Majestic Falls: Christmas Spice #2)

Jessica

Dinner with Micha had been eye opening, to say the least. Finding out my mother had basically disowned Grandma Doris because of Maple was disconcerting but not exactly shocking. I loved my mom, but she’d had worldviews that were completely opposite of my own.

Personally, I was glad two people, who had probably lived much of their lives as shadows of who they really were, had finally found real love with each other. I honestly found it romantic.

And then there was Micha. If I let myself, I could fall for him. But I couldn’t. In less than a month, I’d head back to Colorado and he’d…be writing beautiful music for me to get addicted to while I remembered my time in Majestic Falls.

Last night, after dinner, Micha had driven me back to the store to pick up my car, and we’d sat in his truck, just talking and laughing.

While I couldn’t let my heart get involved, I could see us becoming friends.

I’d lain in bed afterward, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how cold and lonely Colorado could be.

I’d even entertained the stray thought that Micha and I might be able to be more than friends.

I’d pushed away that idea almost as fast as it had come, though.

It didn’t stay away.

Micha was special. I could feel it, even if I couldn’t exactly put my finger on what it was about him that made him consume my thoughts.

Which was a problem and confusing.

This time in Majestic Falls was temporary! I had a ton to do to make my trip a success before I headed back out west. I couldn’t afford to fall for the nicest guy in town.

When my alarm rang at five a.m., I’d barely gotten any sleep. I was too nervous about the store opening. I was also concerned with how much I already liked this town and the people in it. Mostly, I was shaken by how much fun I’d had with Micha—and how much more fun we could have, given the chance.

This was all too much. I’d agreed to run the store through Christmas. I couldn’t consider staying. I had a life back home. A business. I wasn’t the sort of person to just pick up and move to a remote town to run a candy store full time.

I climbed out of bed, got ready and headed out, actually a little eager to get to work. When I arrived, the lights were blazing in Hard Candy Kisses , and multiple people moved around inside.

“Jessica, honey, what are you doing here already?” Maple asked when I walked into the shop. She bustled over and gave me a big hug, which I returned enthusiastically, absorbing her grandmotherly warmth. The sort I’d been denied for most of my life.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I admitted. “I want to help.”

Maple beamed at me, cupping my cheeks in her weathered palms, before pulling me over to meet the women who were hard at work in the kitchen.

“Jenny, Moriah, this is Jessica. Jessica, these are the girls.”

We exchanged waves and hellos. The girls were up to their elbows in chocolate and flour, so hand shaking was out of the question at the moment.

“Isaac will be here around nine to set up the tills,” Maple explained as she led me into the back room. “We’ll open at ten, and I imagine there will be a line around the corner.”

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “For candy?”

“Well, no. It’ll actually be to get a look at you.” Maple grinned at me. “But they’ll buy candy while they’re here.”

Great. Just what I wanted, to feel like a fish in a bowl. I sighed then grabbed a red-and-white apron and pulled it over my neck before I went to the sink and scrubbed my hands.

“Well, put me to work,” I insisted.

“Excuse me?”

“I want to help,” I said with a shrug. “There must be something I can do.”

“Of course.” Maple smiled sweetly and led me to a stainless steel table covered with fruits and what looked like two massive crock pots.

“Gloves are there; dipsticks are here,” she said, pointing to each. “These are to temper chocolate.”

I slid on the gloves and picked up a stick, wholly unsure what to do with it. I eyed the fruit. I’d use the skewer to dip the fruit in chocolate, obviously, but…how? Probably there was some secret candy maker method.

“You’ll want to skewer from the top,” she said, donning her own gloves and stabbing a strawberry through the hull.

“Then dip once, pull it out and let it harden, then dip it again.” She demonstrated quickly.

“Then set them over here on the parchment paper. Once you get a few dozen done, I’ll show you how to decorate them. ”

“I can do that,” I said, beaming at her. She patted my shoulder and went back up front while I got to work.

It was a simple job, but I was grateful for the opportunity to help the shop in a meaningful way. Everything needed to be done, so I didn’t mind taking the easy work off the professionals’ plates.

I picked up a strawberry, skewered through it, and stabbed my thumb with the sharp end of the stick, ripping my glove.

I sighed, tossed the berry, the stick and the gloves into the trash, and started over. I thought the next berry got skewered properly, but then it fell off the stick into the pot of chocolate…along with the next three.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was nervous; that was all. This was not going to turn into an I Love Lucy episode. I just needed to focus.

Stick. Berry. Dip. Pull. Dip.

“Yes!” I cried as I stared at the perfectly dipped strawberry on my skewer.

Relief flooded me as I realized I wasn’t a complete idiot.

I turned to set the berry on the parchment paper, but I had to use my fingers to slide it off.

Naturally, my hand slipped, leaving a perfect thumb indention in the coating on the strawberry. Dang it!

It took me almost a half hour, but finally, I got my head around the process and was happily dipping berries by the time Maple returned to check on me.

“How’s it going?” she asked. She glanced down at the tray of about a dozen completed berries, and her brows furrowed.

“Um, good,” I answered. “I’m getting the hang of it.”

“That’s lovely,” she said kindly.

My stomach dropped as I realized she was placating me. She’d given me the easiest job in the entire shop, and I was screwing it up.

“I’m sorry,” I told her.

“Whatever for?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I said.

My eyes burned, and I blinked hard against the tears trying to burst free. Disappointing Maple seemed like disappointing my grandma.

“Oh, honey.” She pulled me into her arms, hugging me tightly, and I stood there with my hands outstretched, not wanting to get chocolate on her clothes as I fought not to cry on her shoulder. “You’re doing wonderfully.”

I sniffled as I pulled back and wiped a tear away on the back of my gloved hand. She was so kind. Micha was right. Maple was a very special lady.

“No one is expecting you to come out of the gate at a sprint, my darling girl,” she continued. “These people have been doing this for years. It takes time to get your rhythm.”

“I don’t have time,” I insisted, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin. “But I can do this.”

“I know you can,” she agreed. “I’ll just…leave you to it.”

She walked away again, and I changed my gloves. Determined to succeed, I got back to work. Since I mostly had the hang of it, things moved more quickly. I wasn’t exactly ready for The Great British Baking Show , but I had strawberries, damn it, and I could probably be okay on Nailed It .

“Good morning!” Micha chirped happily as he waltzed through the shop’s back door around seven-thirty.

I smiled at him, my breath catching. He looked…

delicious. More delicious than my chocolate-covered strawberries.

As he hung his coat on the hook, I studied his wide shoulders and the way his green shirt hugged the lines of his nicely muscled torso.

My gaze drifted down to his slim hips and firm ass before I snapped my attention back up. I met his eyes as he turned.

“Hey, good morning,” I answered, smiling at him as if i hadn’t totally been checking him out. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought maybe you could use help,” he said, heading directly to the sink to wash his hands.

“Did Maple call you?” I asked, narrowing my gaze at him. It seemed possible. She’d seen how inept I was.

“No,” he said, his voice raising in a way that told me otherwise.

“You’re a terrible liar,” I told him as he sidled up next to me then slid on a pair of gloves. “But, I’m actually glad to see you. I’m horrible at this.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” he insisted, bumping me with his hip. Then he looked at the completed berries on the tray. “That’s not bad for a half-hour of dipping.”

“It’s been almost two hours.”

“Oh.” His lips rolled together, but it didn’t hide his grin. Mirth danced in his eyes. “Well, these look good, so you’re doing great.”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes as I picked up a skewer and stabbed another berry. “I’m getting there.”

“Oh, good,” Maple breathed when she came back and saw him. Yeah, she thought I was doing terrible and had called for reinforcements rather than send me packing. “Micha, dear, go grab the sandwich cookies and get dipping.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded at his grandmother and hurried off to do as she’d asked, while she returned to whatever they were doing up front.

“How far behind have I put everyone?” I asked as Micha and I started working together at the table.

“Not at all,” he insisted.

I watched as he expertly stabbed and dipped cookies, lining up a dozen on the tray in less than a minute.

Damn it.

I turned back to my own task, determined to get a handle on this. If the music composer could look like a master chocolatier, then I could, too.

Within ten minutes, it became obvious we’d silently decided to race each other, and our results were rapidly going downhill. At one point, his stick knocked against mine in the pot, causing me to lose another berry to the depths of the chocolate.

“You did that on purpose,” I accused, glaring over at him.

“I would never,” he defended in mock-affront.

I pulled my stick from the chocolate and flicked it at him, splattering him with the candy. He stared at me, his eyes wide. His tongue darted out to flick a speck from his lower lip.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” he said. Still, he dipped his stick into the pot and returned fire.

“Oh my God!” I yelled, swiping at my face. I knocked him with my hip, pushing him aside as I dipped and flicked at him again.

Soon, we were in a full-out chocolate war, resorting to dipping our fingers into the tempered chocolate and swiping at each other, both of us laughing hysterically. My sides and face hurt from giggling as we battled.

“You’re impossible,” I said, holding my stomach as I stared up at him. “Look at this mess.”

“You look adorable,” he said.

His arm snaked around my waist. Before I even realized it was happening, I was in his arms, his mouth crashing over mine.

I held him tightly, my lips parting for his tongue as he kissed me, the sugary taste of chocolate exploding in my mouth.

My breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and my chocolate-covered hands slid up to cup his cheeks.

Micha held me tighter to the hard planes of his body, one particular hardness very evident against my belly.

“ What is going on back here!” Maple demanded as she bustled into the backroom again.

Micha and I broke apart quickly. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment at being caught by Maple while I’d been exploring her grandson’s tonsils, both of us absolutely covered in chocolate.

I looked around and realized that we’d made an absolute mess of the backroom. Chocolate was everywhere—on the table, the walls, the floor…on us. The completed berries and cookies had been flecked in the process.

I stared wide-eyed, trying to come up with an answer.

“He started it,” I finally blurted.

“Traitor!” Micha exclaimed. I was sure he would have flicked more chocolate at me if his grandmother hadn’t been standing right there.

Maple pressed her lips together, biting back an obvious laugh. “I meant…how is it going back here, you two?”

“Swimmingly,” Micha said, grinning at me. “We’ll just…uh…get these decorated and bring them up front.”

“Sounds lovely,” Maple agreed, turning on her heel and heading out again.

“Oh my God,” I laughed as I looked around once more.

“We’ll get it cleaned up,” Micha promised. His heated gaze bored into me, sending waves of pleasure to my center. “Have dinner with me again tonight?”

“I thought we already had a date?”

“We do,” he agreed. “But I’ll cook you dinner, play you some songs, and we can talk.”

“I’d like that,” I said, smiling shyly at him. “But we’d better get a move on with these.” I gestured to the chocolates. “I don’t even know how to decorate them.”

“It’s pretty much how we decorated ourselves,” he answered with a laugh. “Just take the white chocolate in that pot and drizzle them. Easy peasy.”

Easy peasy? Like falling for him? Because…that kiss! I was in trouble.

Oh God, what had I gotten myself into with him? I was supposed to be going home in a few weeks. Dating a handsome, famous, sweet, and funny composer was not in my plan.

But as we decorated and cleaned together, each of us using any excuse to touch as we brushed past one another, I realized leaving Majestic Falls would be a lot harder than I’d originally imagined it would be.