Small Town Christmas (Blue Harbor #4) - Olivia Miles Page 0,41

in icing. And it’s still the best gingerbread I ever made,” Phil said, trying to cajole her.

She narrowed her eyes on him. “More like the only gingerbread you ever made?”

He laughed. “Well, I did make cookies before. Once. But I was more of an assistant. My grandmother was the baker.”

Cora gave him a soft smile. “Well, we can call this a practice run, and I’m sure your grandmother would be proud.”

He swallowed hard, considering those words. Proud? He’d never thought to make his grandparents proud; he’d been too busy trying to impress his father. But now he thought about everything he’d done and was doing. He wasn’t so sure how his grandmother would feel about him at all if she knew that he was planning to sell her properties in Blue Harbor.

“Besides,” Cora said with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “It was worth it to see Candy’s expression when she opened the door on us.”

It would have been an even more amusing expression if she’d caught them kissing, which she might have done, if she’d held off a few more seconds.

Phil didn’t know what to make of that. He should be relieved, really, that they’d been interrupted before he went and did something that made all of this even more complicated than it already was.

But now, looking into her pretty blue eyes, he felt the pull again, to go with something he hadn’t factored into his life in a long time. His heart.

He was leaning in, he realized, letting something other than common sense guide him. Cora was looking up at him, her gaze searching, and before he could do something he regretted, he reached up a hand and lightly brushed some flour from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Her skin was soft, smooth, and warm.

“Flour,” he said, holding up the evidence.

“Oh.” Cora blinked and then brushed a hand to her face, scrubbing at the remnants.

“I should probably check on Georgie,” he said, eager to get out of the kitchen. It was better once they were in the big room, surrounded by people huddled at tables, all talking, laughing, while carols blasted from the speakers. He could almost picture his grandmother at one of the tables, happily rolling out dough or lining up gumdrops. These were her friends. Her community.

And he was about to take away her last ties to it, even though he knew that there was no sense in holding onto it.

That there never had been, or so he’d once believed.

“She’s having a great time,” Cora observed, watching the little girls with a smile.

Phil looked down at her, admiring the way her eyes glimmered from such a simple pleasure. One that he, too, was enjoying.

“I am too,” he admitted.

Cora looked at him, her grin turning teasing. “See? I knew there was some Christmas spirit in you, after all.”

Phil shook his head as he walked back into the crowded room to find his daughter.

His Christmas spirit had been buried in a deep place a long, long time ago. Leave it to Cora of all people to dig it out of him.

8

The snow fell for days, and even though it was steady, Cora kept an eye on the windows of the shop, hoping that it would stick and that they would have a white Christmas.

In truth, she was hoping for something else, too. A visit from Phil. A run-in at the bakery or café. Something that would make her stop thinking about that moment at the gingerbread event and if it had all been in her head. That more had come from it than a lopsided cookie house with a candy-covered roof.

Her hope panned out on Wednesday afternoon, when she saw Phil and Georgie coming down Main Street on her way back from delivering a holiday wreath to Bella Clark at the bookstore. They were up ahead, coming toward her, the oversized pom-pom on Georgie’s red hat flopping adorably.

She slowed her pace so that she wouldn’t reach her shop before she had a chance to say hello, but there was no need. Georgie had spotted her and broke away from Phil, running toward her excitedly. “It’s the Christmas lady!”

Cora laughed, especially at Phil’s frown.

“Her name is Cora, Georgie,” he corrected.

“I know, but she’s also the Christmas lady!” Georgie insisted, and Phil just shook his head, giving her a look of apology.

“I’m flattered,” she told him, once they were standing closer. His eyes were clear, and lit with amusement, and his grin sent a chill down her