I changed myself, molding my class schedule and workload to make sure we had time together. Always adjusting my life to make sure it worked out, and at the time it just seemed like a little love bubble. Everything was perfect.

  The Christmas before we graduated, he got the offer of a lifetime. A fancy restaurant in Los Angeles, California, wanted him to head their kitchen. He told me before he accepted the role, but it was a done deal. It was his dream job and his dream life. And I just wasn’t a part of that.

  He told me loved me. And then dumped me.

  He claims we would have fizzled out anyways. That I wouldn’t move to California because I love snow too much.

  Whatever.

  We haven’t talked since but every now and then I still feel angry. It took me a few weeks, and maybe if it wasn’t my final semester I would have slipped into a dark place. But I threw myself into my studies and my work and graduated. Then I packed all my stuff, what little I had, and moved back to Kastle Harbor. Bethany helped me sort the rest out.

  It was rough, but it all worked out. Bethany got a well-trained baker, and I got my dream of working in a quaint town and experimenting with new recipes. Pushing the memories back into the past, I continue to work. The next few days pass in a blur of the usual. Covered in flour, cleaning up sprinkles, the whole bakery shenanigans. When the end of Saturday’s shift came around, I was ready to crawl into bed and sleep away my time off.

  THREE

  VIOLET

  My alarm ringing at three in the morning pulls me out of my deep slumber. Since it’s a Monday morning I know it’s going to be hectic. I rush to get ready. Entirely on autopilot mode this morning. Thankfully I’m at the bakery by four. I turn all the lights on, once again admiring Bethany’s choice of a large cupcake by our name that has neon sprinkles on top. At this hour, pre sunrise, the neon glow is a little eerie. I swap out my winter coat for my chef’s jacket and start the coffee machine.

  I have a few dozen gingerbread cookie orders to make today. And even more orders of other popular Christmas cookies to finish too. Bethany comes in at some point to refill my coffee mug and point out the new orders.

  After some finishing touches on some cookies, this round the gingerbread people are in white frosted clothing and have M&M candies as buttons, I peek at the clock.

  Shit, already ten. I should probably have breakfast.

  A grumbling sound from my stomach verifies my thoughts and I head to the main area of the bakery. Nodding my hellos to the regulars seated at the tiny café tables with their cappuccinos and Danishes, I beeline for the coffee.

  “Excuse me ma’am,” a deep, husky voice came from behind me. “Are you filling coffees?”

  Right as I was going to point out my jacket and the sheer amount of flour that was probably covering me, I decide against it. I’m just feeling hangry right now. As long as they just want a coffee, I can do that.

  “If you take it black, then yes, I’ll fill your coffee,” and with that I turn to the face the stranger.

  I’m momentarily frozen in place. He’s gorgeous. His suit is a deep navy and the white dress shirt underneath looks extra bright against his tan skin. His hair is like a delicious chocolate brown that compliments his hazel eyes. I’m suddenly very aware of the flour and crumbs I have covering me. Despite wiping sweat from my face earlier, there’s probably flour on my face as well.

  I’m not looking for anything serious, but a quick rendezvous in the sheets sounds pretty nice.

  My face and neck feel warm now. I know that as I imagine what’s underneath this stranger’s suit, the blush on my face is intensifying. Luckily if asked, I can always blame the ovens in the back.

  ***

  Jake

  “Excuse me ma’am, are you filling coffees?” I ask the woman in front of the coffee maker. Her back is to me and as she turns to face me it’s clear she must work in the back. Her white jacket looks stained and she has what must be flour on her cheek. It’s a bright white against her rosiness. She must get warm in the kitchen. She looks tired, but she offers me a slight grin as she replies about only giving out black coffee.

  “Yes, I drink it black,” I tell her as I hand over my mug. Our fingers touch for a second and it feels as though time has momentarily stopped.

  I stare at my empty hand, pondering how I feel as though I’m missing something. I had arrived in Kastle Harbor earlier this morning and met with my grandmother. After a brief hello she had ushered me out of the house with the task of getting pastries from the bakery. She recommended that I sit and have one with fresh coffee, so here I am.

  While nothing seemed too unique or special about it, my grandmother is right, the sweets and coffee are delicious. The atmosphere is warm and welcoming, nothing like the hustle and bustle of the busy shops in the city.

  Though in a small town, I suppose everything must be a slower pace.

  I think about how it’s nice, though unusual, to have a whole day ahead of myself without time dependent plans.

  “You’re not from here, are you?” the baker asks as she hands me my warm mug.

  “No, I’m just visiting my grandmother,” I reply, my gaze lingering on her lips. I’m eager for her to continue the conversation.

  “Ah, you must be Mrs. Barlow’s grandson,” her face lighting up. “She’s so happy you’re visiting her for Christmas. She told me all about it on Saturday.” Her hands are on her hips, giving me just a hint of her figure under the uniform.

  “Of course,” I chuckle. My grandmother is quite a gossip. Living in a small coastal town provides her with unlimited joy. “She recommended that I stop in for coffee, although I must say, the view is rather nice as well.” I wink at her and watch as her cheeks become redder with each passing second.

  “Interesting,” she replies with a slight smirk as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “How about you take this lovely view out for dinner tomorrow night? We can meet here at seven in the evening and walk over to the Waterfront Bistro?”

  “You know, I think I can move some things around.” My heart skips a beat at the thought of us enjoying a candlelit meal together. Maybe I’d get to see the figure beneath the chef jacket. If anything, a casual date is right up my alley. Plus, my grandmother goes to bed early, so a fun little night out would be better than an evening alone.

  “Here, give me your phone and I’ll put my information in it.” She extends her hand. “By the way, I think we skipped the whole introductions bit. My name is Violet Platt. I’m the head baker here at the café.”

  “It’s wonderful to meet you Violet,” I reply as I give her my phone. “Clearly you know me, but my name is Jake Barlow. I look forward to our date tomorrow.” She hands me back my phone before replying.

  “Enjoy your coffee, Jake. I must get back to work. See you tomorrow night.”

  With a wave she heads back to the kitchen area. I stay still for a moment, watching her retreat to the back. My original plans of a relaxing few weeks with my grandmother have suddenly changed. As I return the small café table to sip my coffee, I consider all the events and parties I’m supposed to attend while in Kastle Harbor. They can get quite dull when you go alone. Perhaps Violet would be down for a little holiday fling.

  We can enjoy each other’s company with no strings attached.

  I can’t wait to see her tomorrow.

  FOUR

  VIOLET

  “Unbelievable Violet,” Bethany shrieks. “I can’t believe you not only have a date, but it’s with Mrs. Barlow’s drop-dead handsome grandson.”

  I know, we’re going out tonight. Which is why I need your help picking out an outfit,” I told her. I’m not usually nervous about dates, but there’s something about Jake that makes my stomach feel as though I’m on a roller coaster with a bunch of loops.

  “Ah, I get it.” She clicks her tongue. “You like him.” Bethany practically sings the last part. My whole body heats to an inferno. It must be the heater kicking on in my home, I cannot be blushing right now.

  “We only exchanged a few sentences Bethany,” I take a deep breath and look at my reflection in the floor length mirror. “Besides,” I continue on, “it’s going to be a casual date. He’s a typical city guy, total bachelor lifestyle. Mrs. Barlow is always complaining about she wishes he’d marry and settle down.”

  “Oh, I know, she says something every week when she picks up her book club’s pastry order. It’s always about how he just hasn’t met the right girl yet. But hey, now he’s met you,” she exclaims.

  “It’s one date, not a marriage proposal. How’s this dress look?” I give a little twirl in the strapless wine-colored dress. It hugs my hips and breasts well. It’s not too form fitting, but just enough to highlight the slight hourglass figure beneath the satin. “I can wear a sweater and pull my hair back.”

  “With that combination you would look like a schoolteacher.” She shakes her head. “And not in a fun way.” Bethany gets off the bed and stands next to me. “Leave your hair down, we’ll curl it slightly. Skip the sweater altogether. And don’t you dare add tights after I leave.”

  I laugh at how well she knows me.

  She continues, “If you actually want the date to go further than dinner, lean into a sultrier look. Wear the dress, cute heels, and a red lip. That’s all you need Vi.”

  With that final sentence, we have my outfit for the evening. I still need to shower, but I promise Bethany I won’t revert to my more modest attire after she leaves. I’m not sure what I want from this dinner with Jake. All I know is that I wouldn’t mind knowing what a kiss from him would feel like.

  ***

  Jake

  It’s just after seven and I’m standing outside the bakery, freezing even with my heavy coat. I look down the street both ways before pulling my phone out. I’m about to call her when I hear someone shout my name.

  “I’m here!” Violet hurries towards me.

  I wave as she gets closer. Her face is flushed, her full lips a lovely red. Like ripe strawberries. I don’t usually crave sweet things, but I find myself craving a taste of her. As she gets closer, I can see she’s not quite dressed for the winter Maine weather. Clad in a coat and heels, I can’t wait to see what else she’s wearing.

  “Good evening, Violet,” I say as she gets within earshot. “Do you want to walk or drive to the bistro?” I extend my arm to her in preparation of walking together.

  “I wouldn’t mind driving.” She takes my arm. “It’s a little colder than I anticipated.”

  It was pleasant chatter the whole way to the restaurant. After handing our coats over we get escorted to our table. I let Violet walk ahead of me, the dress she’s wearing is stunning. Her curves are highlighted in a subtle way. With each sway of her hips the fabric seams to shimmer in the mood lighting of the restaurant. It’s almost hypnotizing.

  Now that’s a great ass.

  We order drinks and continue to get know each other. Violet explains how she grew up near Kastle Harbor, went off to culinary school, and after some thinking took Bethany up on her offer to be her baker. I feel like there’s something missing from her story, but I don’t pry. The conversation flows effortlessly.

  We bond over shared interests and she finds it fascinating that I’m not a sweets person. I tell her about my life in the city and some funny commute stories. I leave out details of my dating —or lack of dating— life and focus more on my work and hoping to become partner soon.

  As the evening continues, I find myself thinking about the potential to have more than just a few dates with Violet. I try to squash those feelings down.

  I’m a bachelor with a major promotion coming. My time here has an expiration date.

  From our talk it’s clear that Violet never wants to live in a big city again. However, I can’t imagine myself resigned to a life away from the fast-paced city. I’m pulled out of my thoughts as the waiter asks us about dessert.

  How is the date coming to an end? And why do I wish it would never end?

  Time passed by so quickly. Violet politely declines dessert. She says she has to work at the bakery early, plus she eats pastries every day so she’s okay with skipping something I wouldn’t enjoy.

  As I drive her home, we continue chatting. Violet makes me feel at ease, and I find myself smiling more tonight that I have in a while. Arrive at her home, I walk her to front door. I claim it’s to help her in case the sidewalk is icy, but I just want to be close to her for a moment longer.

  “Thank you for the wonderful evening, Jake.” She leans in to kiss my cheek. “It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a date.” Her smile lights up underneath the porch lights.

  “Thank you for the delightful company, Violet,” I reply and as I go to lean down and kiss her cheek, she meets me in the middle. Our lips meet, the softness of hers against mine, a delicate moan escapes her mouth as I pull her close. After a few moments we pull away. Staring into her eyes, I gently tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. With that she steps back, opens her door and wishes me a good night.

  “I would love to do it again,” she says, leaving the ball in my court.

  “Me too,” I reply before wishing her a good night and leaving.

  I’m conflicted. I want a fling, something that purely physical, but there’s something special about Violet. I can’t quite put it into words. If nothing else, I want to take her to dinner again.

  And… share another goodnight kiss.

  FIVE

  VIOLET

  There’s something sort of magical about an effortless first date. Especially when you’re not looking for anything serious. Jake, dressed in a dress pants and a basic button down, looked polished. The crisp white shirt was just fitted enough to show off what had to be a very muscular body underneath it. I bet he works out multiple times a week.

  He was polite and easy to talk to the entire evening. During dinner I disclosed a brief snapshot of my life, leaving out my dating history of course, and he did the same. I loved the way his voice sounded, just a little low and gruff. When he dropped me off at my home, we both lingered. There were things left unsaid.

  But that kiss.

  If a person could melt, I would’ve instantly become a puddle.

  His touch electric. The kiss gentle but firm. When I closed my front door and watched him leave, I won’t be content without seeing him again. If anything, he promised a second date.

  After a fitful night’s sleep, dreams full of what could have happened after that kiss, I’m back to my regular routine. Of course, Bethany eagerly greets me at the bakery this morning. She’s in right after me and after draping her neon green wool coat over the counter she heads for coffee. Her curly hair is held in place by a black velvet headband and her outfit is quite tame for Bethany. Only one pattern today. Her pink and white polka dot shirt is tucked into a hot pink velvet skirt.

  A sprinkle of a person indeed.

  I smile at my best friend as she sips on her coffee, tapping her foot in anticipation.

  “Okay, I can’t take it anymore Vi.” She practically slams her coffee on the table. With her hands on her hips she continues, “I need all the details. What did he wear? Did you keep your promise and not wear tights? Did you have dessert? Or were you the dessert?”

  I’m amazed she asked so much without taking a breath. I can’t help but laugh.

  “Wow. Okay. He wore slacks and a button down, very casual businessman attire. I didn’t wear tights and I was absolutely freezing. We skipped dessert completely.”

  “Completely?” Bethany asked while looking around the empty bakery. “No naked tango?” Narrowing her eyes, she’s questioning my honest recap of the date.

  “No, just one extremely hot kiss and a promise of a second date. He was a gentleman. Besides, if it was anything it’d just be a fling.”

  “Oh Vi.” She pats my shoulder as her tone shifts from playful to serious. “You deserve more than just a fling.” She means well, but not everyone is cut out for soulmates and the whole ‘til death do we part aspect of love.

  “Thanks Bethany,” I reply to avoid explaining for the millionth time I just can’t do the committed relationship thing again. I am my own person and will not sculpt and form my life to fit perfectly into another’s dream life.

  With that Bethany takes her coffee and starts her opening tasks while I head back to the kitchen to tackle the holiday orders. Time seemingly flies by in a whirl of oven timers, rolling out dough, and a rainbow of frosting.

  Sometime later I’m pulled to the frontside of the bakery, with a casually dressed Jake standing near the counter. How can someone look so good in jeans?

  Nervous, butterflies in my stomach, I try to smooth out my hair. No way to know how much flour is covering my face. I plaster a hopefully sultry smile and approach him. His dark green sweater is holiday in fabric, and I bet it’s cashmere, it looks exactly like something you’d want to wrap around yourself.

  If only he’d wrap those muscular arms around me.

  “Good morning, Violet,” his voice pulls me out of my daydreams. “I thought I’d stop by for some coffee and more of that exquisite view that comes with the café.”

  “I could join you for a cup, if you have the time.”

  Please say yes.

  “For you, of course,” he replies with a wink and gestures to a small table by the front. It’s a small town, and with a bunch of regulars in the shop. Before Jake even gets home his grandmother is already going to know about this. Whether he wants her to or not, it’ll make its way through the town.

  “How are you enjoying your time here?” I ask as I sip on my coffee.

  Glancing out the window at the light snow flurry. The tiny snowflakes catching the sun, glimmering as they twirl about in the wind. Snow in December? A quintessential part of living in Maine.

 

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