Page 22 of Acting Merry
“Oh, that fifty bucks is mine,” Brady says. “My family does a gingerbread house competition every year, and I’ve never lost, so you can all just save yourselves the trouble.”
Megan laughs and nudges him with her shoulder. “Don’t oversell us.”
Cole leans into me and mutters, “There was nousin that smack-talking.”
“Impossible,” Brady says, smiling at Megan. “We’ve got this thing in the bag.”
“Well,” Hannah says brightly, “Tess has won three out of four years, so you two have got your work cut out for you.”
“Who won the other year?” Cole asks. “It was you, right?” He looks at me expectantly
I let out an awkward laugh. “Uh…no.”
“Thankfully,” Hannah says, “we have our trusty scoreboard to keep track.” She reaches into one of many reusable grocery bags on the counter and pulls out a small white board.
Sharpie’d across the top are our four names—Megan, Reese, Hannah, Tess—and each row is a different year. There are six checkmarks total, and not one of them is under my name.
Cole sets a hand on the counter and turns toward me. “Are you telling me my partner has never won this competition even once?”
“And today won’t be the day that changes,” Brady teases.
Cole ignores him, and I do too. At least outwardly. Inside, I’m mixing sriracha into his gingerbread house frosting.
“Mine always collapses,” I say to Cole, feeling more embarrassed than I care to admit. “You got stuck with the lemon.”
“I love lemons. Besides”—he leans in and speaks in a low voice—“I happen to know a thing or two about building houses.”
I pull back to look at him. I hadn’t really considered that, but the image of him working under my sink flashes across my mind, broad shoulders and all. “Does that knowledge translate to using materials made out of flour and sugar?”
He shrugs. “I don’t see why not.”
“Okay, people,” Tess says, putting out bowl after bowl of edible material for us to decorate with, some of which I brought. “Come over and take a look at the available materials. You’ll have ten minutes to come up with a concept for your house before the two-hour timer begins.”
Cole’s eyes gleam with excitement, and I feel it trickle through me. I’ve never cared much about winning the gingerbread competition. It’s always just been a fun time with my friends. But this year?
Ireallywant to win.
six
Cole
“Maybe you can focuson the construction while I plan the decor?” Reese suggests.
I shake my head as I look through the different sizes and shapes of gingerbread we have to work with. The other three couples are all working on their designs already.
“Why not?” Reese asks. “It’s playing to our strengths.”
I turn toward her. “Reese. We’re making this house together, from start to finish. Your losing streak stops today.”
She grimaces. “It doesn’t count whenyou’rethe only reason I’d be winning.”
I grab her hand and pull her with me to the table Tess designated for us. “With the things I’m going to teach you today, your next gingerbread house will be able to withstand an 8.5 earthquake.”
She smiles, and not for the first time, I get distracted by it. She may be a dental hygienist, but that doesn’t explain the way her smile lights me up like a Christmas tree.
“That would be impressive,” she says. “But just so you know, I’m not very competitive.”
“You may not be, but your boyfriend is.”
