Page 8 of Christmas Kisses (Majestic Falls: Christmas Spice #2)

Jessica

I’m in love.

I mean, I was pretty sure I was in love. And it terrified me. Because…what was I even doing?

If it were just Micha, I think I could have handled it with grace and calm. Afterall, people fall in love with people every day.

But it wasn’t just him. In only a few days, I’d fallen in love with my grandmother’s entire life. Majestic Falls. The store. The people. The mountain air. Hell, the lack of headaches I’d had since I’d arrived here had sort of made me fall in love with this place even more.

How could this be happening?

As I sat on Micha’s sofa, listening to him play the most beautiful haunting, romantic piece of music I’d ever heard, I found myself choking back tears.

He hadn’t said what the song was, but as I watched the muscles in his back undulate with the passion of his playing on his shiny black baby grand piano, I knew he’d written it for me.

This musical declaration mirrored the feelings sparking through me, and showed the ones that had also come to life in him.

I loved him. And he loved me, too.

“It’s not finished yet,” Micha admitted as he spun on the bench to look at me. “I can’t seem to find the ending.”

That made sense. How could he when we didn’t know where we were headed? Where we’d end up? Together or a thousand miles apart?

“It’s beautiful,” I told him around the lump in my throat.

Oh God, what was I going to do? What was I even doing here?

My chest ached with the need to be with him.

The kisses, the touches we’d shared in the dining pod and back here before he’d played for me, were one thing.

Hot. Exhilarating. Passionate. But him moving to the piano to play had given me time to think and brought some sense back to me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, sensing my turmoil.

He returned to the couch and dropped next to me.

His hand immediately found mine, and I studied him in the room’s low, intimate illumination.

Christmas lights from both the decked-out tree in the corner and the mantel of his fireplace reflected in his eyes.

I could easily get caught up in the holiday ambiance surrounding us.

I couldn’t let that happen. It was too soon.

Yes, I wanted him with everything in me, but I couldn’t go there.

Not when I still planned to leave soon. Adding more intimacy to this relationship wouldn’t be fair to either of us.

I wasn’t the fling sort of girl, and I suspected Micha wasn’t the sort for flings, either.

It would already hurt when I left, but falling into bed with him would make it so much worse.

I licked my lips, glancing down at my lap and drawing a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just tired, maybe. It was a long day at the shop, and I need to be there early in the morning again. I think I should… I should probably go.”

His face fell, but he composed himself quickly and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Disappointment tinged his tone, but he squeezed my fingers, silently telling me he wouldn’t push me.

I cupped his cheek and gazed into his eyes, needing to be truthful.

“Micha, please don’t think that I don’t want you.

That I don’t want to explore this thing that’s started between us.

I’m scared. This is all happening so fast, and I can’t make a commitment here,” I said, indicating between us, “when I don’t know what I’m going to do.

I can’t just decide to up and leave behind my life on a whim. ”

“It’s not a whim for me,” he murmured, not meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” I whispered.

“No.” He grasped my hand and pulled it to rest on his thigh, our fingers entwined.

“Jessica, I understand. I do. But I won’t deny I…

care about you very much, and I’m glad that you feel this…

thing between us, too. I’ve never been serious about anyone, so I don’t want to mess this up.

No one else has ever affected me this way. ”

“I care about you, too,” I swore to him. “That’s why I can’t stay tonight. You’re the first man I’ve ever felt this way about, and I think you could be the last, too. I can’t make promises yet. To you or to me. This is too important.” I leaned forward and kissed him softly before I stood.

He walked me to the door. At the threshold, he gave me a weak smile then leaned forward to kiss me again, obviously holding himself back this time. I hated it, but also appreciated it. I held myself in check, as well, with a frayed will.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” I offered.

“Whenever you want,” he agreed.

* * * *

My emotions were still in a tangle when I got back to my house—no, to Doris’ house.

Unsettled and knowing I needed to think, I walked into the kitchen.

Almost as if a spotlight clicked on, I looked around at the gleaming surfaces, cleared counters and the bowlful of fruit. I blinked as if waking up.

Someone had been cleaning since Doris had died.

And obviously, someone had stocked up for me.

God, I was oblivious. I’d been here a week, and it hadn’t occurred to me to thank Maple for taking care of me, of my place, because I hadn’t even realized she was doing it here, as well as at the store.

I was quite sure it was her, and not someone else.

I opened the fridge, unsurprised to find it fully stocked, then wandered around, looking in the cupboards and the pantry, running my fingers over the sealed packages of baking supplies.

I was just about to step out of the little baking cubby, when I noticed a hinged box sitting in the corner of one of the shelves.

Slowly, I popped open the lid, feeling as if Doris was here, as if she were watching me, waiting for me to get a grip and figure out what I was doing here.

The box was jammed full of handwritten recipe cards.

Doris had recorded her recipes! Tears burned in my eyes, the feeling of having a piece of my grandmother overwhelming me.

I hugged the treasure to my chest. This was the closest I’d been to her in years because of a stupid fight.

Because the two adults in my life had been unable to accept one another—well, one of them had been unaccepting, anyway.

“I don’t know what to do,’ I whispered, desperately wishing she was here to give me advice. She’d found love. She knew love.

Follow your heart.

Still hugging the recipes with one arm, I swiped at my eyes with my other hand.

Follow my heart? I wasn’t sure it was that easy. I wasn’t sure I knew how or even if I could.

Weirdly hoping for answers while I blinked back the emotions trying to escape my eyes, I brought the box to the kitchen island and climbed up on a stool to flip through the treasure I’d just found.

There were decades worth of cards, with notes and amendments obviously marked as Doris’ recipes evolved, probably through her own trial and error. Maybe, in this very kitchen.

One card caught my eye, and I pulled it out, smiling softly at the crooked handwriting. It was labeled Maple Changed My Life Bars . The recipe included five different kinds of sugar. I’d had no idea there were that many different sugars.

Maple changed my life…

Micha was changing mine.

As I stared at the card, I felt an overwhelming need to make the bars, as if they’d give me all the answers I needed.

I stood and started collecting the ingredients, glad that everything was clearly labeled and the instructions were detailed.

Back home, I’d often watched baking challenges on television, so even though I’d never made anything that hadn’t come from a box, at least I understood some of the steps required.

I carefully measured everything first, putting the ingredients into their own bowls on the counter in front of me. After I preheated the oven and greased the baking pan, I added the ingredients in the order stated on the recipe card to the bowl of Doris’ giant mixer.

When the batter looked reasonably like the recipe said it should, I pulled the bowl free and poured the mixture into the prepared pan. I popped it into the oven and set the timer.

Twenty minutes later, I removed the pan and stared down at the flat, hard-looking concoction inside it. That wasn’t right at all. I turned with a sigh, staring over at the counter and found I’d missed the little ramekin containing baking powder.

Damn.

I threw away the ruined bars, washed the dishes and started over, double checking each step as I went. When the batter was all mixed, I poured it into the prepared pan again then slid it into the oven, feeling pretty proud of myself.

This time, it looked perfect. After cooling it for the prescribed amount of time, I removed the slab of baked perfection from the pan, setting it on the cooling rack until it was time to cut it into bars.

I glanced at the clock, shocked to see it was almost midnight.

I knew I should go to bed, but I wanted to complete the project.

I sat at the island again and stared at what I’d just accomplished. Somehow, I felt closer to my grandmother in that moment than I ever had. How many of these bars had she baked in this very kitchen? How hard had she worked to create something for the woman she loved?

Doris had given up her family for Maple.

And while she probably regretted that it had come down to the choice, somehow, I knew it had been the right one.

I would have loved to have known my grandmother, but her legacy lived on in Maple.

In this home. In Majestic Falls. In her shop—my shop, now… if I chose to keep it.

Could I be that brave? Could I walk away from everything and everyone I knew to stay here? For love?

Everything and everyone… I wasn’t attached to anything but familiarity. I didn’t own property. I didn’t have any particularly close friends. Hell, my closest friends were on the internet.

Maybe, my decision wasn’t as difficult as I was making it.

I got up and sliced the bars, laying them onto a pretty platter.

After I put one aside to test, I covered the rest with plastic wrap.

When I bit into my test bar, I smiled as its sweetness exploded over my tastebuds.

The texture was light and crumbly, the maple and the multiple sugars hitting different notes.

I’d done it—with help from my grandma, of course. I’d actually baked something from scratch, and it was delicious. If I could do this, I was pretty sure I could do anything—even learn to proficiently dip strawberries.

And maybe…I could learn to let love guide my life the way my grandmother had, too.