Page 22 of The Clause in Christmas
Tearing her gaze from the dazzling tree, Cassie checked the fire, grateful for the sturdy oak log Luke had added to the coals before bidding her goodnight. A few bronze embers still smoldered in a pile of ash and cinder.
After restocking the fire with another log, filling the cottage with the comforting, smoky scent of scorched timber, Cassie began her morning ritual—steeping a fresh pot of coffee in the French press and checking the day’s activity on the Christmas Calendar.
December 4: Bake a Mince Pie.
Leaning her weight against the edge of the kitchen island, Cassie groaned. Putting aside the fact that a mince pie sounded disgusting, Cassie doubted she had the necessary ingredients. Her last trip to Mac’s had produced little more than the basics, minus a can of ground coffee—bleh!Sure, her grandmother’s pantry was well stocked but hardly well enough for something as obscure as a mince pie.
And only a fool would consider venturing outside in a snowstorm of this magnitude.
* * *
After his third knock, panic rose in Luke’s chest. What if Cassie went out in the storm?
Luke glanced over his shoulder. In a matter of minutes, his red pickup had become nearly invisible. He knew he should’ve gotten there sooner! But it had taken him almost an hour to dig his truck out of the snowdrift.
Luke tried the doorknob, his pulse spiking when the handle wouldn’t turn. He hammered his fist one more time, watching the wreath quiver from the force.
This time the door slowly creaked open.
Cassie stared up at him, surprise sprawled across her face. “Luke?”
Luke swooped inside, slamming the door against the freezing snow flurries. “Are you okay? I got here as soon as I could. You haven’t tried to go outside, have you?”
Cocking her head, Cassie blinked in confusion. “Why would I go outside? It’s practically a blizzard out there.”
Luke opened his mouth to answer but faltered as the reality of the situation settled. A huge clump of snow dislodged from his coat, plopping onto the clean hardwood floor. He must look like Frosty melting on the Fourth of July. Clearly, Cassie was smart enough to stay inside in the middle of a snowstorm, not that he could say the same for himself. “I, uh, tried to call. But your phone was dead. So, I thought…” His voice trailed off as he caught Cassie trying to hide a smile.
“You thought the naive city girl had decided to take a jaunty stroll in the storm of the century?” she teased.
Grinning sheepishly, Luke removed his snow-spackled coat. “Okay, I admit my concerns were… a little hasty.”
Cassie’s eyes softened. “But it was sweet of you to come to my rescue.”
Luke’s heartbeat stilled as they stared at each other in the foyer, water droplets from the melting snow pinging against the floor. He wanted to say something,anything, to prolong the moment, but he couldn’t think past how adorable she looked with her long johns, knee-high socks, and tousled hair. But he couldn’t very well saythat, could he?
“Well, now that you’re here, you might as well get warmed up.” Cassie reached for his coat and scarf, hanging them on the vintage hall stand.
Luke tugged off his beanie, quickly running his fingers through the wayward strands of dark hair. “I can’t remember what’s on the Christmas Calendar for today. Nothing outside, I hope.”
Cassie wrinkled her nose. “I have to bake a mince pie. Although, it might as well be a pie of four and twenty blackbirds, considering I don’t have the ingredients for either.”
“Wow!” Luke snorted with laughter. “Pulling out the obscure nursery rhymes. I’m impressed.”
“As an only child, you read a lot.” Cassie flashed an endearing grin.
It wasn’t lost on Luke that she wasn’t wearing a lick of makeup, which let her natural beauty shine. A few freckles dusted her nose and cheeks, like a sprinkling of brown sugar, and Luke had a strong urge to run his fingertips over them. He blew out a breath, banishing the impulsive idea. “You’re in luck. I happen to be a mince pie expert. I’ve helped my mother bake one every Christmas since I could hold a spoon.”
Cassie smiled. “Your spoon-holding skills aside, how do we solve the problem of not having the right ingredients?”
After kicking off his wet boots, Luke strode into the kitchen, followed by Cassie. He headed straight for the freezer. “If you haven’t already noticed, Edith was incredibly organized. And well prepared.” Pulling out a jar of premade mince pie filling, he set it on the counter with a triumphant grin.
Inspecting the jar of frozen filling, Cassie arched an eyebrow. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… isn’t this cheating?”
“We still have to heat the filling, make the crust, and bake it in the oven. It counts as making a pie in my book.”
“If you say so. You’re the boss.” Her eyes sparkled playfully, highlighting the brilliant gold flecks in the sea of green, sending a spark of awareness rippling through Luke.
Setting a double boiler on the stove, Luke swallowed. The only thing he needed to heat up tonight was the oven. They simply had to focus on baking a pie until the storm subsided enough for him to head home. Thelastthing he needed was to get stuck in an intimate, cozy cottage with the one woman who made time stand still. “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll work on defrosting the filling while you start the crust.”
