Page 43 of Holiday Hopefuls
“Coming to help finish the dessert?” Oliver’s mom holds out a plate of sugar cookies ready for icing. “Don’t tell the others,” she winks at me.
Pressing my lips together, I glance up at Oliver, whose hand is already halfway to the plate. Following suit, I bite into the most delicious sugar cookie I’ve ever eaten. “This is incredible. No wonder Oliver can bake the way he does.” Gotta lay it on thick—especially since it’s true. Other than the cookies he brought to my classroom the other day, these are the best cookies I’ve ever eaten.
“Well, there’s plenty of powdered sugar ready to be made into icing,” Sandra says, setting the plate on the counter. “Callie, do you bake much?”
I laugh. “I can cook decently enough, but it’s really a lot of guesswork,” I shrug,“and none of my plants have complained.” Oliver’s mom chuckles, causing my smile to widen. “With baking, you can’t quite get away with that same mentality. It’s much more specific.”
Sandra nods, smiling. “You’ll have to come by the shop sometime and cook with me. Anytime you like.”
“Mom,” Oliver interrupts.
“Wait, the shop?” Peeking up at Oliver, two and two become four. “Sandra’s Sammies,” I whisper, turning back to his mom, “you own Sandra’s Sammies.”
Sandra rolls her eyes, whacking Oliver with her handtowel. “I can see you two have had some serious conversations.” Shaking her head, she beams at me. “Yep, and you’re welcome there anytime. Now, you—”she points at Oliver“—you can make up for your lack of transparency with your girlfriend by icing these cookies.” Raising light brows at her son, Sandra shoots me one more wink before heading to check on her husband and daughter.
“Your family is incredible,” I say, voice low.
Oliver heads to the bowl of powdered sugar, stopping to grab milk from the fridge. “They are,” he nods, “but they’re especially happy that you’re here.”
Snorting, I lean a hip against the counter. “Considering Blythe repeatedly tried to get me to date you, it sounds like you could’ve brought home anything with a heartbeat and they’d be happy.”
“How longdidshe encourage, um, this?” he asks, voice just a little too casual.
Biting my bottom lip, I try to recall the first time it was mentioned. “Back in April,” I nod, “she overheard me talking about going on a hike and said she had a brother who liked to hike, too, and would I want to take him with me. Apparently, he didn’t get out much.” With almost no space between us, I can feel the laughter rumbling through his very warm body.
“That’s some ringing endorsement,” he grins. “What did you say?”
“That I only date lepers and pirates. But that was only my excuse the first time.”
“Wonderful,” he deadpans. “What others did you give?”
“Usually pretty generic ones. I had plans, wasn’t interested in dating anyone, may or may not be talking to someone,” I count on my fingers, “that kind of thing.” Glancing at all the sugar ready to be consumed, my mouth begins to water. “Does your mom get some kind of special holiday sugar or something? Because that stuff smells incredible.”
“Wanna help?” He peeks over at me, holding up the bowl.
“I think I better.” At the confusion coating his features, I laugh. Sneakily angling my head toward the living area, I whisper, “We’re being watched. But I’m not sure what to do.”
A wolfish grin takes over his handsome features. “Then let me show you.” Out of nowhere, a fingertip glances off the tip of my nose, leaving a powdery trail in its wake down the side of my cheek. “That’s better,” Oliver declares proudly.
Smirking, I dip my fingers in the bowl as he gloats, making sure all ten fingers are ready. “You know, I think you have a little something right here.” Without warning, I take his face in my hands and pull him close, effectively getting the light powder all over his cheeks.
Oliver tips his head back, exuding light and laughter from every ounce of his being. But just as I try stepping out of his immediate proximity, one hand grabs my waist as the other tips my chin toward him.
Slipping my arm around him, my free hand falls to his shoulder.
Tender eyes trace my sugar-covered face. “Careful, Ms. Rutherford,” he murmurs, lips dangerously close to mine.
“Or what?”
“Or they’ll think we’re headed down the aisle any day now.”
Quirking a brow, a coy smile slides into place. “Isn’t that the idea?”
“Guess I just didn’t think you’d be this convincing.”
Feeling the blatant stares of the rest of the Rhodes clan, the next words out of my mouth shock us both. “I think you should kiss me now.”
Oliver recovers quickly, pressing perfectly sculpted lips to mine while his fingertips pull me as close to him as physically possible.
