Page 4 of Spicy or Sweet (Wintermore #2)

I didn’t grow up in a town like Wintermore, but I’ve been here long enough to witness what she’s talking about.

This town isn’t unfriendly to tourists, but the locals stick together and do everything they can to support each other.

Noelle is Wintermore’s darling, and I’m not surprised everyone is so excited to support her.

Wintermore is laid out kind of like a tree.

Main Street is the trunk, with the bulk of the town’s businesses lining each side.

Most people live on the little streets that branch off Main Street, but there are a few houses and businesses dotted around up toward the mountain, where the trees are thick enough that it’s practically a forest. My favorite part of town is the river, and the reservoir it leads to if you follow it far enough.

There’s not a spot in Wintermore that doesn’t have a view of the mountains, but the view from the reservoir is unmatched.

I’ve spent hours sitting by the water, staring up at the towering hills.

My brother lives in the mountains. It’s not far, but the drive is treacherous, and I’m not a confident driver on the easiest of roads, so I don’t make it up as often as I should, considering I moved out here to be close to him.

But there’s something about surrounding myself with trees and looking up at the mountains that makes me feel more connected to him.

“Who are you meeting at The Frosty Bean? A customer?” I ask. I’m being nosy, I know, but I’ve never been good at awkward silences.

Noelle sucks in a breath before answering. “I have a meeting with the mayor.”

Huh. But I…

“Mayor Blackwood?”

“That’s the one,” she confirms, and I appreciate her not calling me on what a stupid question it is. Of course there’s only one mayor.

“My meeting is with her,” I say, and Noelle looks over at me, her eyes narrowed. “Did she tell you what it was about?”

“Nope, just that she needed to talk to me about something.”

“Same.”

I assumed that Mayor Blackwood wanted to order a cake or something for one of the many events she throws. I have no idea what she could want with both Noelle and me, unless she’s planning an event big enough for two bakers. We’ll find out soon, I guess.

It only takes us a few minutes to walk to The Frosty Bean, and Noelle holds the door open for me, letting me in first. We take a seat in a booth with a window view, crispy red and orange leaves brushing the glass.

“Hey, you two.” Bianca, the owner of The Frosty Bean, is surprised to see us together and doesn’t bother to hide it. She arches a brow, flicking her gaze between the two of us. “What can I get for you?”

I gesture for Noelle to order first, and she purses her lips, like she’s pissed at the politeness.

“I’ll do a gingerbread latte, extra cinnamon, please.”

“And a hazelnut mocha for me—extra cream,” I say. Bianca scribbles down our orders.

“Just a heads up, Mayor Blackwood is joining us,” Noelle chimes in, and Bianca’s face falls.

“Ugh. Thanks for the warning. I’ll have your drinks out in a sec.”

I’m not familiar with the mayor, but that reaction doesn’t fill me with confidence. “I don’t know Mayor Blackwood—should I be worried?” I ask Noelle, and she shrugs.

“She’s fine, just intense. And she’s not my biggest fan.”

It’s not like Noelle to be forthcoming with anything personal—not to me, anyway—and I pounce on it.

“How come?”

Noelle seems to realize she’s made a misstep, and it’s possible I sound a little too enthusiastic about having an in.

I can’t help it; I want Noelle to like me.

She seems so fun, and her baking is amazing.

Wintermore is friendly, if a little distant, with newcomers, and I don’t have any real friends here.

So, naturally, the one friend I’d like is the one person who seems to actively dislike me.

“I dated her daughter in high school,” Noelle answers, crossing her arms. “It didn’t end badly or anything—we just went to different colleges and drifted apart—but I don’t think Mayor Blackwood was ever really on board with her daughter dating a woman.

Also, everyone wanted my mom to run for mayor, and the only reason Mayor Blackwood won is because my mom didn’t run. ”

“I would’ve voted for your mom,” I say, and she hums her agreement.

“Everyone would’ve voted for my mom.”

Noelle’s parents are the best of Wintermore—kind and welcoming, Christmas-obsessed, and their family toy store is a huge boost to the town’s economy.

Bianca drops our drinks off, and I check the time on my phone.

“She’s always late,” Noelle says, of the mayor. “But god forbid you’re ever late to see her.”

Excellent. I love sitting here trying to find something to talk about with someone who doesn’t want to talk to me.

Noelle is silent, toying with a sugar packet, looking everywhere but at me. It takes everything in me not to fill the silence.

I grew up in a loud house. I’m a triplet, and my mom ran a daycare, so it was never quiet.

It was happy and busy and chaotic. Until it wasn’t, and silence reminds me of after, so I do my best to avoid it.

When I’m working alone in the kitchen, I always have something on—music, a podcast, an audiobook, The Food Network.

“Do you—” I begin, but Noelle interrupts me.

“My niece swiped yes on you on Locked.”

It takes me a second to process what she’s said. “Locked… the dating app? Isn’t your niece a baby?”

“Yes. She grabbed my phone,” Noelle replies. “Rora—you know Rora, right?” I nod. “She signed me up for the app, and your profile was the first to show up. Sunny grabbed for my phone and, you know.”

It’s clear that Noelle would not have swiped yes, and I wouldn’t expect her to. I have to be a good fifteen years older than her, and she hates me.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have noticed. I haven’t opened Locked in years. I don’t even know if I still have the app downloaded.”

Noelle leans forward a fraction, like I’ve piqued her interest.

“Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“Not really. It’s just mostly tourists, and I don’t think I’m a casual dating person.”

“You don’t think?” Noelle asks, and while I don’t particularly want to get into my dating history, this is the most interested she’s ever seemed in me.

“I got divorced just before I moved here, and I haven’t really tried dating since.

Definitely nothing casual. Maybe I’d like it, but I don’t know…

Who has the time?” I’ve struck a decent work-life balance since opening the patisserie, but I value my free time too much to spend it pretending to be interested in strangers and exchanging mediocre orgasms. Maybe that’s cynical of me, but I haven’t had truly good sex since college.

My ex-husband tried, but now that we’re on the other side of things, I can admit to myself that I was never actually attracted to him. I married him because my family needed something good after so much bad, and he was a good friend. We were both relieved to go our separate ways.

Noelle rolls her neck, her eyes closed, and my gaze snags on the dips of her collarbone. I swallow, my cheeks warming.

“Who has the time, indeed,” she says, and this might be the first time she’s ever willingly agreed on anything with me. “But dating is more of a time commitment than a casual hookup. Not that I have enough time for either, these days.”

Her lips lift in a wry smile as she opens her eyes, and I swallow, my cheeks warming.

“Anyway,” she continues. “All of that to say, if you re-download the app, it was Sunny. Not me.”

And just like that, her smile is gone, and frosty Noelle is back.

I open my mouth to reply, but the loud clip-clop of heels sounds on the café’s hardwood floors, and we both turn to see the mayor. She smiles widely at the sight of us.

“Excellent. You’re both here. Let’s get started.”