Page 33 of Sweet Christmas Comeback
“I know what you’re thinking,” he told the reindeer. “But you’re wrong. This is the smart play. The safe play.”
Vixen turned her back on him completely now, walking away with deliberate slowness that absolutely felt like judgment.
Leo spent the rest of the day avoiding his phone, avoiding the bakery windows, avoiding anything that might remind him of what he’d lost by being too scared to trust what he’d found.
By evening, he’d reorganized the feed storage, repaired a fence section that didn’t need repairing, and cleaned tack that was already clean.
And he still couldn’t stop seeing Jade’s face. The way she’d looked at him in the woods during the trial run, soft and open and trusting. The way that trust had shattered yesterday under the weight of his fear and cruelty.
The sleigh sat in the barn, polished and ready for a journey it would never take.
And Leo told himself, over and over, that he’d done the right thing.
Even though it felt like the worst mistake of his life.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The kitchen at Sugar Pine Sweets smelled like Christmas had exploded in the best possible way—cinnamon, ginger, vanilla, and chocolate all competing for dominance in the warm air. Jade wiped flour from her cheek and surveyed the growing army of cookies lined up on every available surface.
Three days. They had three full days until the tree lighting ceremony on Sunday evening.
“That’s the last batch of gingerbread,” Mabel announced, sliding a tray from the oven with practiced ease. The cookies were perfect—golden brown, the edges just crisp enough, each one shaped like a cheerful Christmas tree. “Should we do another round of sugar cookies, or move on to the snickerdoodles?”
“Snickerdoodles,” Jade decided, checking her spreadsheet. Because, of course, she had a spreadsheet. Color-coded, cross-referenced with the station locations and estimated foot traffic. “We need variety at each booth, and the snickerdoodles will hold up better if they sit for a day.”
Felicity burst through the back door in a flurry of cold air and shopping bags, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright withtriumph. “I come bearing supplies!” she announced, dumping her haul onto the only clear section of counter. “A carton of paper plates—Christmas themed, naturally. Matching napkins. And look at these!”
She pulled out a sleeve of Christmas-themed paper mugs complete with handles, each one festooned with snowflakes, reindeer, or cheerful holiday sayings. “Estate sale at the church. I traded a decorated wreath for all of it.”
Jade’s throat tightened. “Fee, you didn’t have to?—”
“Hush. I’m a professional decorator, remember? I need documentation of my commercial work. You’re doing me a favor by letting me show off some commercial decor.”
“I found the thermoses in the storage closet,” Mabel added, gesturing to a row of oversized insulated containers. “They’re old, but they’re clean and will keep cocoa hot for hours. I’ve already tested them.”
Jade looked around at the organized chaos of her makeshift production line—cookies cooling on racks, ingredients measured and ready, supplies donated and borrowed and scrounged from every possible source. It should have felt desperate. Instead, it felt like possibility.
“Okay,” she said, pulling out her notebook. “Brice is setting up the booths tomorrow morning, right? Three locations—one at the pond, one at the gazebo, one in front of the church?”
“That’s what he said when I saw him at the hardware store,” Felicity confirmed. “He’s getting them spiffed up tonight in his workshop. Simple but sturdy, he promised. Weatherproof and wind-resistant.”
“Perfect.” Jade made a note. “So early Sunday we stock them. Cookies in airtight containers, cocoa mix and supplies at each location. I’ll need to prep the signs with prices and?—”
“Speaking of which,” Mabel interrupted gently, “have you thought about what to charge? I know we need revenue, but it is Christmas...”
Jade had thought about it. Had agonized over it, actually, trying to balance their desperate need for income against the community goodwill that was maybe the only thing keeping them afloat right now.
“Two dollars for cocoa, three dollars for a cookie and cocoa combo,” she said. “That’s less than the coffee shop charges, and all the cookies are homemade. Plus, if someone can’t pay, we’re not turning them away.”
“You have a good heart, pumpkin,” Mabel said, squeezing her shoulder.
“I have a desperate heart,” Jade corrected, but she was smiling. “Every dollar counts, but so does every person who leaves happy and tells their friends about us.”
Felicity was arranging cookies on a display platter, photographing them from different angles. “These are going to look incredible in the booths. Especially with the garland, mistletoe and fairy lights I’m stringing up. Very ‘small-town Christmas magic.’”
“Have you talked to Leo about the final sleigh route?” Mabel asked, pulling another batch from the oven. “I know you two mapped it out, but is it finalized?”
Jade’s hands stilled on the dough she was rolling. She and Leo hadn’t spoken since their fight. Hadn’t even seen each other, though she’d caught herself looking toward the reindeer farm more times than she cared to admit.
