Page 10 of Let it Snow
CHAPTER SEVEN
Max
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The smell of sugarand spices filled the air of the kitchen as Max and Lucy worked to roll out her biscuit dough.She had pulled the recipe from a small booklet, holding onto the yellowing paper like it was a treasure more precious than anything else she had ever seen or touched.Max watched as she reverently placed it down on the island and lovingly smoothed it out with her nimble fingers.For a moment, he did nothing but watch as Lucy read through the recipe he was certain she had memorized years ago, silently mouthing the ingredients to herself before looking up at him and asking if he was ready.Max was all ready to bake, but what he wasn’t ready for were the feelings that were swirling in his head, and more worryingly, his heart.
When he had called his parents earlier to inform them he wouldn’t be making it up to Edinburgh for at least another day or perhaps more, they had sounded so disappointed.He wanted to see them just as badly, but the disappointment in his own voice had been somewhat forced.Spending more time with Lucy was not a hardship.It was quite the opposite, in fact.The more time he spent in her company, the more he learned about all the things they had in common and those they didn’t, and the more he wanted this storm of the century to last as long as the name promised.Lucy had experienced so much loss in her life, but it didn’t keep her from being one of the kindest and most caring people he had ever met.Even when it came to something as simple as preparing their tea, she did it with such care and attention to detail.One could even say it was done with love, if they were so inclined.
And Max was inclined.Every time he looked at the woman with eyes the color of the darkest chocolate, hair a shade of the sweetest strawberries, and skin the color of milk that looked so soft and creamy he wanted to feel it against his own, he fell a little bit more in love with her.Of course, there were other reasons he wanted to get both of them out of their clothes, but that was secondary to just wanting to be near her, hold her if she would let him.He had a feeling she would, especially after the mistletoe incident.For now.A phrase that had been repeating in his head since the moment the words sailed across her rosy lips—lips he wanted to plant a flag on for the whole world to see and declare as his.
The fact that Max was feeling so much so quickly for someone who had been a literal stranger to him the day before could have been frightening,shouldhave been frightening, but it was the opposite.He felt as if some of the puzzle pieces of his life that had never before fit with one another had finally locked into place.Of course, the rest of the puzzle was still a jumble of shapes labeled “will I move back to England?”and “what will I do for work?”
There weren’t exactly a lot of opportunities for him in a town as small as Upper Middlewood.Was there even a Lower Middlewood?It was as if the town solely existed inside a snow globe where the rest of the world had simply disappeared.Unfortunately, it hadn’t and neither had other real-world necessities like a steady income. Could he travel for work and come home to the Inn?Max shook his head.He was getting way ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it.Something about being here felt right, and he had felt wrong for such a long time that the feeling was hard to discredit.
“I think these are ready for the oven.What do you think?”Lucy asked as she placed a final cutout figure on the baking sheet.
Max glanced down at the midsize ginger people and smiled.“I think they look like they need a friend,” he told her.Reaching into her box of biscuit cutters, Max pulled out one in the shape of a sheep and proceeded to cut one out and place it on the tray.“There.Now they’re perfect.”
Lucy eyed the addition dubiously but chuckled as she placed the first tray into the oven.“Why a sheep?”she asked as she rifled through the cutters.“I have both a dog and cat shape as well, and both of those are much more common companions.”
Max shrugged a shoulder as he piled the dough scraps together and rolled them out for more biscuits.“It reminded me of your pajamas.”
Lucy’s cheeks flushed pink, and he couldn’t help but smile at just how responsive she was to even the lightest teasing.Max got momentarily distracted, wondering how else she might be responsive, what other parts of her skin would flush pink when she started speaking again.“I can hardly be blamed for showing up at the door in my bedclothes,” she remarked, tossing a small piece of dough at him.The action reminded him of being at the bakery with his best friend and the thought warmed his already heated insides.“It was nearly midnight.”
Max popped the dough scrap into his mouth and smiled at her.“I’m not complaining,” he assured her.“You looked absolutely adorable.”
Lucy’s cheeks went from pink to red as she ducked her head.“I suppose that’s something.”She smiled at him, her eyes glinting underneath her long lashes, and he wanted nothing more than to haul her petite body against his and kiss her until she was red-cheeked from a lack of oxygen and not embarrassment.But he was supposed to be helping her with her recipe, and they would never discover the problem she was having with it if they let the first batch burn while they made out like teenagers.
So, instead of listening to his heart, and another throbbing appendage, Max distracted himself by looking into her shapes box.When his eyes snagged on a few cutters that looked almost homemade, he reached in and presented them to Lucy.“These look custom.What are they for?”
Lucy stopped rolling her dough and smiled wistfully at the shapes as he passed them over to her.“These are for the gingerbread house.In addition to the biscuit decorating, every year we make a replica of the Inn.”Her hand rummaged around the box and came back with small ginger people cutters.“We even put little versions of ourselves in the front yard.”The smile on her face disappeared like a puff of smoke and her eyes filled with sadness.“I suppose it will just be me there this year.”
Max’s heart squeezed as he saw her run a finger around the edge of one of the cutters before placing it back in the box.As she pulled her hand back, he grabbed onto it and held it tightly.“You won’t be the only one there in spirit.Of that, I am certain.”Max meant what he said, and he wasn’t just talking about her mother and grandparents who had passed.He would be there with her, too.There was no way Max could have spent even a single moment with Miss Lucy Shaw and not think about her again for the rest of his life.
Lucy sniffled slightly, her smile coming back, albeit dimmer than before.“Thank you for saying so,” she told him, lacing their fingers together where they rested on the counter.“That means a lot.”
