alike.”
Phil felt his jaw tighten. He’d spent his entire life trying to earn his father’s approval, and hadn’t ever felt like he measured up. But now, thinking maybe they were a lot alike no longer felt like a compliment.
They managed to get to one of the ovens just as another woman was pulling a tray out. Cora set the timer and checked on their earlier batch.
“A few more minutes,” the woman remarked. She glanced at the two of them and gave Cora a little smile. “I’ll be popping into your shop this week. Still need to pick up some stocking stuffers for the grandkids.”
“I’ll be there!” Cora said happily.
Oh, good grief. Phil couldn’t talk to her about all this now. Not with what she’d just said. Not with all these people here. This was her community. Where everyone knew everyone.
And where everyone probably knew his grandparents, too.
Besides, as he watched Cora open the oven door and slide in the tray, his gaze drifted to her curves, and he felt something stronger than the desire to close a business deal, which usually gave him a rush, every time. He felt something more like attraction. A yearning for something deeper, and different.
Something that was right in front of him. Cora blinked up at him, her eyes questioning, until suddenly her expression fell.
“Oh dear God,” Cora hissed under her breath. “Hurry up and get into the pantry. Candy’s coming.”
“But isn’t our timer about to go off?” Phil wasn’t much of a baker, but he knew plenty about burning food. Georgie would no doubt be sharing stories of his overcooked pizzas before long.
“They’ll be fine, and something tells me that we won’t be if Candy finds out we’ve partnered up.”
“She’s determined to match you up, isn’t she?” Phil said as he let her gently push him into a broom closet.
Cora kept the door open a crack so she could peer through it. “Pretty much. She’ll try anyone so long as they’re male, single, and employed.”
“Guess I fit the bill then,” Phil said, trying not to laugh.
Cora looked genuinely apologetic as she turned to look up at him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, obviously, Candy took one look at you and made a point of finding out your situation.”
“My situation?” It wasn’t so easy to suppress the grin that was pulling at his mouth.
Cora’s eyes widened and then shifted to the side. Her cheeks flamed. “I mean, you know, if you were single, and, um…”
He lifted an eyebrow and offered, “Employed?”
“Right.” Cora swallowed hard. “And of course of the right age…”
“Bare basics, then. No other real criteria needed. Just a plain and simple match. No…physical requirements?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”
Now he grinned. “No. Just seeing where I fit into all of this.”
Cora huffed and pursed her lips. “Obviously Candy saw something in you.”
“Only Candy?”
Their eyes locked. In this room, they were so close that Phil could smell the perfume she was wearing, although he wasn’t so sure it was perfume. It was sweet, and spicy, with a bit of pine mixed in there too. She smelled like Christmas, he realized.
She smelled like the way he wanted to feel. Then. Now. Always.
His gaze lingered on her mouth and he heard Cora pull in a breath, before just as quickly the door was yanked open and Candy’s face appeared.
“Well, what do we have here?” She looked just as elated at finding them as Cora did embarrassed.
“We just needed a broom. Um…Georgie spilled something.” Cora shot him a panicked look and mouthed, “Sorry.”
“And here I thought there was a sprig of mistletoe hiding out somewhere!” Candy peered up at the ceiling and then gave Phil a coy wink as she strutted away.
“Don’t mind her,” Cora said, but from the pink in her cheeks, it was clear that she minded Candy, very much. “We should probably check on the gingerbread anyway.”
Phil supposed she was right. Now wasn’t the time for a kiss. Or a conversation about the property. Both those things would have to wait.
Maybe, only one of them could, he thought. The more he got to know Cora, the more he doubted she would ever speak to him again if he booted her from the storefront.
A beeping sound was coming from the oven as they approached, and the smell made it clear that it been going on for quite some time.
“Damn,” Cora said, dropping the tray of burnt gingerbread onto the counter.
“No one will notice if we cover them