Page 17 of His Big Holiday Firefighter
“Time’s up!” Mayor Thompson shouted, and applause erupted from the sidelines.
We finished our bakes with moments to spare, arranging our cookies on vintage plates from the bakery. The snickerdoodles gleamed with their signature sugar coating. The shortbread offered a perfect golden hue, and the chocolate-ginger cookies filled the air with their complex aroma. As we stepped back to survey our work, I felt something settle in my chest. Whatever the judges decided, Noah and I had created something beautiful together.
On to the judging.
I watched Chef Liu’s face for any hint of her thoughts as she tasted our cookies. Her expression gave away nothing, though I could have sworn I saw her eyes widen slightly at the chocolate-ginger creation. Mrs. Henderson’s poker face wasn’t nearly as practiced; she blissfully closed her eyes as she sampled them. Mayor Thompson just took careful notes in her notebook.
Finally, after all the entries had been tasted and assessed, the judges conferred, their heads bent together in serious discussion. The crowd held its collective breath, the holiday lights twinkling overhead in the suspended moment. I felt Noah’s hand slip into mine, warm and steady and right. Our fingers interlaced as naturally as our lives had begun to.
“The winners of this year’s competition,” Mayor Thompson announced, her voice carrying clearly, “will be announced after a short break.”
I barely heard the collective groan from the crowd. I was too busy watching Noah, how his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes, how he looked at me like I’d already won everything that mattered.
Maybe I had.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The impatient whispersof the crowd filled the space as I stood at our station, Noah’s hand warm and steady in mine. I watched as the judges conferred and returned to the front of the room.
My grandmother had wise advice for nearly every occasion. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear her voice: “Patience, little dumpling. The best things are worth waiting for.”
Chef Liu caught my eye and gave me the smallest of nods—the same gesture she’d used years ago when I’d finally mastered a recipe. But this time, I saw something else in her expression: recognition of a different kind of mastery, one that couldn’t be measured in precise grams or exact temperatures.
“Before we announce the winners,” Mayor Thompson began, “I’d like to thank everyone who took part in this year’s milestone competition. The spirit of community and tradition that fills this room is what makes Pine Ridge special.”
Noah squeezed my hand gently. In that simple touch was everything we’d learned about tradition over the last few days—not just following old recipes, but creating new ones. Blending the past and the future into something uniquely our own. Justlike we had with Nai Nai’s recipes. Just like we hoped to do with the bakery—and with our lives.
“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” Mayor Thompson opened the envelope with dramatic flair. “This year’s Pine Ridge Christmas Cookie Competition winners are...”
The pause stretched out for maximum anticipation.
“James Lee and Noah Sullivan!”
The explosion of cheers and applause seemed distant compared to the way Noah turned to me, his eyes bright with joy and something deeper that made my heart feel too big for my chest. Before I could speak, Noah was kissing me right there in front of everyone. The cheers grew louder, punctuated by Mrs. Henderson’s distinctive whistle and what sounded suspiciously like Chef Liu’s elegant applause.
“I have a confession,” Noah said when we finally broke apart, the crowd still celebrating around us. His hands framed my face with familiar gentleness. “I applied for the Seattle Fire Department’s training program.”
My heart stuttered. “What?”
“Not to leave,” Noah added quickly. “They have an advanced rescue certification course I’ve always wanted to take. A few months of training, then back here to implement new programs. If...” He hesitated, and I saw that same vulnerable look he’d worn when sharing his first attempts at Nai Nai’s recipes. “If you’ll wait for me?”
“As if you even have to ask.”
“This is going to be so great. When I’m in Seattle, I can help you pack up your apartment. You can move in with me here. My place isn’t huge, but I don’t mind being cozy if you don’t.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Woah, slow down, big guy! Let’s finish celebrating this moment first, and then we can plan the rest of our lives together.”
We accepted our blue ribbon, and the celebration moved to the bakery, where Noah and I were shocked to discover that it had been decked out for the occasion.
Sarah, possibly the world’s most thorough and persistent real estate agent, stood proudly as we took in all she’d accomplished while we were at the contest. “I had a feeling about you two. I hope you like it.”
The front of the shop glowed with new life. The cafe tables were topped with fresh flower centerpieces, and strings of lights twinkled in the windows. I was delighted. The bakery hadn’t looked this good in a long time. “You did all this?”
“I can’t take all the credit.” She gestured to where several of Noah’s friends from the fire station stood. “That motley crew over there really came through in a pinch.”
Noah thanked them. “You guys are the best.”
“I hope everyone is hungry,” Mayor Thompson said, entering along with the other judges, setting down several trays piled high with the freshly baked cookies from the contest.
