Page 5 of Spicy or Sweet
“I was wondering if you had a bottle of MiraColor cherry red I could borrow? I’ll replace it, but I spilled my last bottle, and I need it to finish a custom cake, and I have a meeting, so I can’t get to Jackson and I—” I close my mouth as Noelle turns away from me, stalking across the floor toward the cabinets lining the side of the kitchen.
She’s tall, but she still has to stand on her tiptoes to rummage around the top shelf. I take her in, dragging my eyes up the long line of her body.
In the years I’ve lived in Wintermore, Noelle must have had hair every color of the rainbow, but right now it’s a pretty purple. It makes her blue eyes pop, and her rosy cheeks somehow pinker. She’s beautiful all year, but I’ve noticed the change in her as the leaves have turned.
It’s clear she’s exhausted—there are smudges under her eyes and every bone in her body seems tense—but I see her in the morning when she steps outside and breathes in the crisp fall air. I’ve seen how her eyes sparkle, how, for a moment, it doesn’t seem like the weight of the world is on her shoulders.
“Here you go.” She turns and thrusts a brand-new bottle of cherry red into my hand. Thank god.
“Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, seriously. I’ll replace it as soon as my order comes?—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, quickly cutting me off. She clears her throat, crossing her arms. “I actually have to run. I have a meeting at The Frosty Bean.”
It’s clear she wants me to leave. I’m not ignorant of the fact that she doesn’t like being around me. Which is why it makes no sense for me to open my mouth and reply, “I do too! Let’s walk over together.”
Noelle isn’t an asshole. She doesn’t like me, I know that, but she’s never overtly impolite. Just a little short with me. I can’t imagine her being rude, but, for a moment, I can tell she wants to be.
The polite thing for me to do would be to make up an excuse to run back across the street, but Noelle closes her eyes and sighs before I get the chance.
“Sure. Let’s.”
I swear I can hear her gritted teeth.
She calls goodbye and leads me out the back door into a little courtyard area with trash cans, a pile of broken-down cardboard boxes, and a small shelter with chopped logs. I’ve seen the smoke coiling from the chimney in her apartment, and I’ve spent many cold nights a little jealous. The virtual fireplace I put on my TV sometimes doesn’t hit the same as a real one.
Noelle cuts around the side of the building and through the tight alleyway, leading us back to the main street.
“Why don’t you just go through the café?” I ask as she crosses her arms across her chest. Surely it would be faster.
“Whenever I step foot in the café, everyone wants to talk to me. To ask about my family, the toy store, if I have a girlfriend yet. Small-town shit,” she says with a shrug.
I didn’t grow up in a town like Wintermore, but I’ve been here long enough to witness what she’s talking about. This town isn’t unfriendly to tourists, but the locals stick together and do everything they can to support each other. Noelle is Wintermore’s darling, and I’m not surprised everyone is so excited to support her.
Wintermore is laid out kind of like a tree. Main Street is the trunk, with the bulk of the town’s businesses lining each side. Most people live on the little streets that branch off Main Street, but there are a few houses and businesses dotted around up toward the mountain, where the trees are thick enough that it’s practically a forest. My favorite part of town is the river, and the reservoir it leads to if you follow it far enough. There’s not a spot in Wintermore that doesn’t have a view of the mountains, but the view from the reservoir is unmatched. I’ve spent hours sitting by the water, staring up at the towering hills.
My brother lives in the mountains. It’s not far, but the drive is treacherous, and I’m not a confident driver on the easiest of roads, so I don’t make it up as often as I should, considering I moved out here to be close to him. But there’s something about surrounding myself with trees and looking up at the mountains that makes me feel more connected to him.
“Who are you meeting at The Frosty Bean? A customer?” I ask. I’m being nosy, I know, but I’ve never been good at awkward silences.
Noelle sucks in a breath before answering. “I have a meeting with the mayor.”
Huh. But I…
“Mayor Blackwood?”
“That’s the one,” she confirms, and I appreciate her not calling me on what a stupid question it is. Of course there’s only one mayor.
“My meeting is with her,” I say, and Noelle looks over at me, her eyes narrowed. “Did she tell you what it was about?”
“Nope, just that she needed to talk to me about something.”
“Same.”
I assumed that Mayor Blackwood wanted to order a cake or something for one of the many events she throws. I have no idea what she could want with both Noelle and me, unless she’splanning an event big enough for two bakers. We’ll find out soon, I guess.
It only takes us a few minutes to walk to The Frosty Bean, and Noelle holds the door open for me, letting me in first. We take a seat in a booth with a window view, crispy red and orange leaves brushing the glass.
“Hey, you two.” Bianca, the owner of The Frosty Bean, is surprised to see us together and doesn’t bother to hide it. She arches a brow, flicking her gaze between the two of us. “What can I get for you?”
