“Grab a knife and cut the dough into smaller rectangles.” She glanced at her phone. “My mom says there should be around eighteen.”

  “Geometry lessons via baking.”

  She shivered. “No math talk, please. Calculators and cash registers work fine.”

  He wagged his finger. “You’re playing into the stereotype of the liberal arts major.”

  “I embrace it fully.”

  “Duly noted.” He counted the cookies. “Twenty.”

  “More for us to eat.” She placed the pieces on the cookie sheet and then washed her hands. “Now, we put them in the oven and wait.”

  The pan slid onto the middle rack, and she closed the door.

  “Come on. The movie’s starting.” He grabbed her hand. “I want you to see the ugly sweaters his family wears.”

  Michael led her to the couch and pulled her down next to him on the sofa. Forget the space that was between them before. His thigh pressed against hers. He hadn’t let go of her hand, either.

  No big deal. Still, she forced herself to breathe.

  Finally, he let go.

  She missed his warmth and fought the urge to flex her fingers.

  “This is like my family minus the sweaters. The men are all about Christmas ties. Except for Uncle Guy. He goes for holiday socks. It used to be boxers, but Great-Aunt Tessie stopped that.”

  Good for his great-aunt. Sheridan waited for a break in the movie’s dialogue. “These relatives are on the Patterson side?”

  “Yes.” Michael’s arm went over the back of the sofa. “Good people. There’s a group chat, and everyone is trying to outdo each other with their holidays this year.”

  Another commercial came on. As she angled toward him, her shoulder slipped under his as if they were matching puzzle pieces.

  “Who’s winning?” she asked.

  “So far, it’s a tie between my cousin Elijah and my uncle Tim.” Michael’s affectionate tone told her how much he cared for his extended family. “One won a car playing slots in Atlantic City, and the other got to be on the sideline for the Panthers game, but there’s time before New Year’s for someone to pull ahead. Most of the Pattersons are competitive, whereas most of the Evans family are go-with-the-flow types.”

  “I’m not sure how you keep everybody straight.”

  “Once you reach a certain age, you learn to answer to hey, you.” His hand rested on her shoulder. He stiffened before moving his arm to his side.

  “I’m sorry.” He sounded surprised and contrite. “I don’t know what I was—”

  A noise blared.

  Sheridan stiffened. It was coming from the kitchen. “The cookies.”

  She bolted from the couch.

  Smoke filled the air.

  Michael opened windows and then turned off the smoke detector. “Are there flames?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  He put on a nearby oven mitt. “Stand back.”

  Slowly, he opened the door. More smoke poured out. He removed the cookie tray and placed it on the stovetop. Each rectangle was black, scorched from baking much longer than needed.

  She hung her head. “It’s my fault. I forgot to turn on the timer.”

  “No. I’m the one who pulled you away before you could do that.”

  “I should have remembered.”

  He raised her chin with his finger. “Cookies aren’t something you can multitask.”

  “I had the recipe from my mom, yet I ruined this tradition.”

  “You were distracted,” he countered. “And so was I.”

  “The TV…”

  “It wasn’t the movie.”

  Sheridan’s gaze met his, and her lips parted.

  Before she could say anything, he kissed her. It didn’t matter that smoke rose from the cookies and still hung in the air, and the smoke detector emitted a random beep. The only thing that she cared about was his lips against hers. She might care later. Who was she kidding? She would, but at this moment, she wanted to enjoy the taste and feel of him.

  His beard brushed against her chin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers through his hair. As she moved her hands down his shoulders, her palms ran along the muscular ridges. He was solid and kissing her senseless. She wanted the kiss to keep going.

  His arms circled Sheridan, pulling her against him. She went willingly, eager to be closer.

  She may have ruined the cookies, but she was nailing their kiss and didn’t want it to end.

  But then he eased away.

  A whimper sounded. It had been her. That was enough to make her move back.

  Sheridan glanced at the ceiling. The mistletoe was at least five feet from them.

  He tucked strands of hair behind her ear. “I’ve wanted to do that since the art gallery.”

  “Me, too, but you didn’t say anything.”

  “Neither did you.” He laughed. “We’re a pair.”

  She nodded. “We have to work on our cookie baking, but we’re not hopeless. We’ve got the kissing down.”

  “We might need more practice.”

  “There’s more cookie dough in the fridge.”

  “I meant practice kissing.”

  “Oh.”

  He brushed his mouth over hers. “We’re also missing the rest of the movie.”

  “Yes, but we’re living our own right here. No doubt, it’s destined to be a classic.”

  Michael traced her lips with his fingertip. “Tell me more.”

  “Two strangers in a charming small town for Christmas share a quaint beach cottage. They both want to get away and be alone for the holidays, but there’s nowhere else for one of them to stay.”

  “That sounds vaguely familiar.”

  Sheridan nodded. “At first, she thinks he’s nothing but a frat party guy.”

  His eyes widened. “And he thinks she’s uptight and will be in his way all the time.”

  She raised her chin. “Uptight?”

  “Frat party guy?”

  They both laughed.

  Michael grinned. “She gets in the way, but he doesn’t mind.”

  “He proves himself useful by helping her with a painting and suggests they celebrate Christmas.”

  “She finds them a perfect tree.” He bit his lip. “And she makes him chicken.”

  “He takes her into an art gallery and kisses her under the mistletoe.”

  “But they haven’t rescued an animal or saved the town.”

  “No, but they”—she glanced at the cookie sheet—“keep the cottage from burning down.”

  “The movie is missing something.” Michael cupped her face and kissed her. “That’s better.”

  “I’m sure we just exceeded the number of kisses for Hallmark.”

  “Bring on Lifetime or Netflix,” he joked. “So, what happens next?”

  She smiled, unsure of what was happening between them, but happy enough that she didn’t want to think about it right now. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  “I thought you might say something like that.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the rest of the cookie dough. “So, in the meantime, why don’t we make another batch of cookies? But this time, we’ll turn off the TV and remember to set the timer.”

  That made her laugh. “Let’s stay right here to make sure these don’t burn.”

  “And we can start a new tradition.”

  She shot a glance at the mistletoe.

  “I said a new one.” With a grin, he opened a cabinet and pulled out a bag of mini marshmallows. “Christmas hot cocoa.”

  “Okay.” She would never say no to chocolate. “But what’s the difference between regular hot chocolate and Christmas hot cocoa?”

  He tapped the tip of her nose. “Your frame of mind.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Michael woke, more rested than he’d been in weeks. Not even eating too many of the delicious German Christmas cookies—he kept forgetting the actual name, so he called them that—last night had interfered with his sleep. That was all because of Sheridan.

  As he remembered drinking hot cocoa and making sure the pan didn’t burn, warmth flowed through him. He hadn’t been looking for romance, but somehow it had found him.

  Them.

  But he didn’t want to think beyond Christmas, even though she wasn’t leaving until the thirty-first. Yes, whatever this was between them had an end date, but that might be why he wanted to make the most of the time they had together and not overanalyze anything.

  A few emails were in his inbox. There was also a copy of the donation pledges that would be sent to the two rescues today. His team worked fast, but he was paying them to take care of stuff. This was extra, but it would be worth the expense.

  Would the money change things with Sheridan?

  Michael hoped not, but he would never know. She would be in Berry Lake or somewhere else when the money arrived, but he bet she would be excited if she found out. Not because she wanted something from him, but because he could travel and help others. When he was ready to settle down, he wanted to meet a woman like her.

  He showered, dressed, and headed into the kitchen. The coffee pot was full, and empty grocery bags covered the table. Sheridan had set out the items they’d bought to make the ornaments. But one thing was missing.

  With his cup in hand, he made his way to Hope’s studio.

  Sheridan sat cross-legged on the floor, giving him a great profile shot of her. A laptop was in front of her, a pencil rested between her lips, and a notepad lay to her right. She held a measuring tape across the width of a small seascape.

  The sun shining through the French doors cast a glow around her. The halo effect was stunning. It also suited her. She’d become his personal Christmas angel.

  He watched her until she placed the tape measure on the floor. “Hard at work already?”

  “I’m almost finished.”

  “Keep going.” He didn’t want to disturb her. A glance out the window showed blue skies. He needed to get outside and enjoy the beautiful weather. “I’m going to eat breakfast and then take a walk on the beach before we work on the ornaments. It’s a gorgeous day outside.”

  “I’d love to join you.”

  Anticipation surged. “I was hoping you might. I’ll let you know when.”

  A bowl of instant oatmeal and two cups of coffee later, Michael returned to the studio. “Is this a good time for you to take a break?”

  Sheridan wiped her hands on her thighs. “Yes.”

  He eyed her black jeans and red sweater. “You look Christmassy.”

  “That was fully intentional.” She studied his T-shirt. “Not to sound like your mom or sisters, but you might be cold without a jacket.”

  He laughed. “You sound just like them, so I’ll tell you what I’d say to them. Men are always warm.” Though she had a point. He’d been so excited to spend time with her, he hadn’t considered the temperature outside. “I’ll grab a sweater and meet you in the living room.”

  A few minutes later, they made their way down the wood walkway next to the cottage. A few wisps of clouds were overhead, but most of the sky was blue, making it seem more like summer than winter. A slight breeze blew off the water, rustling through the beach grass and tossing the ends of Sheridan’s hair.

  “It’s lovely out here.” She headed to where the dry sand gave way to wet and lifted her face to the sun. “I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

  “Me, either.” He couldn’t stop staring at her. “Coastal Christmas for the win.”

  “That’s for sure.” She glanced in both directions. “Which way do you want to go?”

  “Left.” That seemed to be less crowded, and he fell into step beside her.

  Waves rolled to shore, and a seabird flew overhead. The best part was having her at his side.

  He laced his fingers with hers. “This okay?”

  As she nodded, she squeezed his hand. “This is nice.”

  “It’s relaxing.”

  “My mom has always told me everything works out for a reason, but I didn’t believe her. She might be right.”

  “Sometimes, it takes time to see why something happens.”

  Sheridan stared at him. “Do you agree with my mom?”

  Michael rubbed his beard and thought for a moment about buying a lottery ticket, staying at Von’s beach house, and meeting Sheridan. None of those things would have happened if he had still been working.

  “I do.” He couldn’t fully explain why, but he wanted to share something. “If I hadn’t lost my job, I wouldn’t have grown this beard and met you.”

  “The beard looks great, so it would be a shame if you didn’t have it.”

  Her playful tone pleased him. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. “Good to know.”

  “If I were working at the gallery, I wouldn’t have come to Indigo Bay.”

  It was his turn to squeeze her hand. She wouldn’t just get over what happened, but Michael hoped he was helping her in some way. “I wish your dad hadn’t done what he did, but I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “So am I.” She half laughed. “I’m amazed to say that. But it’s true.”

  A lightness in his chest made him stand taller. He wanted to make sure she continued feeling that way.

  A bird landed on the sand in front of them. Sheridan’s face brightened. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and took a picture. “I want to send this to my mom.”

  He snapped a photo of Sheridan so he would remember this walk.

  And her.

  * * *

  Back at the house, he turned on the Christmas music channel before sitting next to Sheridan at the kitchen table. The way she’d organized everything brought a smile to his face. “This setup would make my mom and Marley proud.”

  She handed him a glass ornament they’d found on sale at the drugstore. They would each do three—one for Von, one for Hope, and one for themselves. “What about Madison?”

  “She’d say it was too neat. She’s not into lists or being organized, but she would create a masterpiece.” He lowered his voice even though they were alone. “Between you and me, her ornaments are always the best ones.”

  “Your secret is safe with me.”

  If only he could tell her his. Instead, he removed the top of his ornament. “Any rules for decorating?”

  “Be creative. But that’s not really a rule, only a suggestion.”

  “Good, then I can get messy.”

  “Go ahead, but you’re cleaning it up.”

  “For an only child, you have the big-sister tone down.”

  “I use it for babysitting, but it seems to work well on you, too.”

  He placed his hands over his chest and feigned an injury. “You wound me.”

  Humor gleamed in her eyes. “You’ll survive.”

  “Maybe with a few more of those cookies we made.”

  Ignoring him, she squeezed red acrylic paint inside her ornament and then swirled it to extend the stripe all the way around. She did the same thing with white.

  “Yours looks like a candy cane.” Michael picked up the green bottle. “I’m going for a green and red effect.”

  He spun the first bit and then added more until satisfied. The red came next. By the time he finished, all the glass was covered.

  Sheridan leaned closer. “That’s pretty. It’ll look beautiful with the red ribbon.”

  He placed the ornament upside down in a disposable cup to dry. “I forgot about the ribbon.”

  “These are coming out better than I expected. And they’re easier to do than decoupage with tissue paper. That would be a big mess.”

  “Is that something you do when you babysit?”

  She nodded. “It was weird babysitting again after not doing it for so many years. I don’t know what kids are used to these days, but I wasn’t about to let them watch TV or play video games since I was being paid to take care of them. So we did crafts, played games, went outside. The parents loved it.”

  “What about the kids?”

  “They put up a fight until they realized I wouldn’t relent.”

  He made another ornament with white, red, and green. “I wonder what life will be like for my nephew.”

  “Monroe, right?”

  Flutters filled Michael’s stomach. “Yes. His childhood will be different from mine.”

  “Depends on how much their parents limit his screen time. Whether they have their own tablet, computer, or phone.”

  “You’ve thought about this for someone who doesn’t have kids.” Unless she wanted them sooner rather than later. He tugged at his collar.

  “Not really.” She poured green paint into an ornament. “Some women came into the cupcake shop last week and were discussing it. I think they all had kids. But my friend Missy and I ended up talking about it. She has no kids, either. So I’m not sure why we did that.”

  He left kid discussions to his married siblings. “You not only make cookies but cupcakes?”

  “I didn’t bake the cupcakes, but I frosted some. I only fill in when people call out. But the paycheck was nice.”

  “How is this one?” He held up his ornament, wanting to take her thoughts off what happened in Berry Lake. He wanted to turn Indigo Bay into a bubble world for Sheridan, where nothing from her past would ruin Christmas.

  “Oh, I like how the three colors turned out.”

  “Yours are better.”

  She shimmied her shoulders. “Thank you.”

  “So, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Should I be nervous?”

  “Haha.” He added yellow to an ornament. Time to go all-in with the colors on this last one. “You mentioned attending the tree lighting on Christmas Eve.”

  She nodded. “I texted Hope about it. She said we should get in line around three. The mayor turns on the lights at five.”

  “The day’s wide open for me.”

  “Me, too.”

  “So, after the lighting, how about we come back here and have lasagna for dinner?”

  Her lips formed a perfect O. “You remembered my family’s tradition.”

  He nodded. “But lasagna is also easy if we buy a frozen one. We can also get bread. I’m not sure what else you have with it.”

  “Green beans, salad, and wine.”

 

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