Page 21 of Noel I Won’t
I was a horny, desperate man, and the universe was torturing me.
CHAPTER 9
NOEL
“Arethese all the baked goods you’ve got this year?”
A middle-aged mom with dishwater-blond hair cut in a bob frowned at the table of Christmas goodies. Itwasa bit lacking. Mom used to bake pies, cinnamon rolls, and Christmas cookies for weeks leading up to Black Friday.
Dad’s recovery had prevented that, and I hadn’t once thought to ask if she wanted me to do anything. I was out of touch with just how much work went into this place.
“We’ve just sold out of so much!” I fibbed. “We’ll have more in later this week if you want to come back by.”
“Noel,” Mom chastised after the customer left with one small bag of premade peanut brittle. “Why did you lie to that woman? We haven’t sold out of anything, and we’re not getting anything more later this week.”
“Sure we will,” I said brightly. “I’ll whip something up.”
She frowned. “But you’re not a baker.”
I shrugged. “I know the principles well enough to whip up some Christmas goodies. Sorry, Mom. I should have asked sooner if you needed any help with that. I forgot how much you do in the days leading up to Black Friday.”
She smiled, eyes looking tired. “I’ve had my hands full this year.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”
She sighed. “It’s sure been nice having you here. But you’ll be heading home soon, won’t you?”
“My schedule is flexible. Maybe I’ll extend my stay a little. Get you through the start of the season, at least.”
She looked shocked. “Really? But Noel, what about your job?”
“It’ll keep for a while. I haven’t taken a vacation in years.”
“Well, that’s true,” she said, eyes worried. “If you’re sure you won’t be in trouble.”
I grinned. “Mom, I’m a head chef. I make my own rules.”
She chuckled. “You must like that. You always were a bossy little thing.”
“Hey! It’s a useful quality in a chef, you know.”
She patted my back. “It’s pretty useful around here, too. I think I’ll take a break and let you run things.”
She winked and slipped away. Oooh, she was tricky.
I covered the rest of the shift, getting run off my feet as I tried to keep up with the flow of traffic on our busiest shopping day.
I climbed the ladder to fetch elf statues from the top shelves and rang up Christmas ornaments, candles, and too many bags of peanut brittle to even count. We would have to make more of that, along with the cinnamon rolls, raspberry-chocolate brownies, and cranberry bread that had been requested by disappointed customers all day.
On top of that, I’d promised to host a wreath-making workshop, an evening of cocoa and hayrack rides, and set up a kids holiday movie night.
The farm used to host events like this regularly, but my parents had fallen behind. Now that I was here, I could help getthem back on track—but could they keep up with the work once I was gone? Even with Hopper’s help, things had obviously fallen through the cracks.
We left the barn door open to customers—portable heaters keeping the shop from getting too cold—and a gorgeous man had come inside when I wasn’t looking. He had dark hair, short on the sides and longer on the top, delicious stubble over a perfectly cut jaw, and jeans that he filled out just right.
He also looked like he could break a little gay man like me in half, so I quickly averted my gaze.
“Hey, hon,” he called, “come look at these cute gnomes. They are so you.”
