Page 7 of Holly Jolly Heresy
Were her cheeks pink from the cold, or was she blushing? Caleb wasn’t sure, but he knew he was far too fascinated by the changes in her skin tone for his own good.
“What’s your confession?” he asked.
She lowered her voice. “I kind of want to make my own ridiculous nativity scene now.”
He couldn’t help the surprised laugh bubbling up from his throat. “Yeah? What would you use for yours?”
“Hmm. I bet I could get Tessa to make nativity scene themed cupcakes, like those Barbie cakes with the doll in the middle.”
“Can’t say I’m familiar.”
“Well, then you are missing out, my friend.”
“What flavor would these cupcakes be?”
She tsked. “You really aren’t familiar. It's not about the cake. It’s all about the frosting. Gobs of it piped to look like ruffled dresses and with way too much food coloring mixed in.”
“Are you planning to put baby Jesus in a ruffled frosting dress?”
“No worse than a Santa hat and a tin of butter.”
“Fair point.”
The waitress arrived at their table, plucking a pen from her bun and a small notepad from her apron. “Can I get you folks something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”
“Water will be fine, thanks,” Molly said.
Caleb nodded in agreement as the waitress handed them each an oversized laminated menu.
“Today’s special is gingerbread pancakes with candied orange peel and powdered sugar. Oh, and a tuna melt with Swiss on rye. I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu.” And then she was gone again.
“It’s like I’ve stumbled into a made-for-TV Christmas movie,” Caleb said as he perused the menu.
“Nope. If this were a Christmas movie, I would be a big city lawyer and you would be the sweet and humble, inexplicably unmarried bachelor who runs a Christmas tree farm and teaches me to believe in magic after an hour of cheesy run-ins and exactly one kiss.” Her eyes flickered down to his lips and then darted away again.
Caleb’s pulse jumped, and he forced himself to focus on the menu instead of the images running through his head at the mere idea of kissing Molly, of how his hands were fit on her waist, the way his fingers would sink into her hips when he pulled her closer—
This had been a bad idea. He should have made the trip himself, or let Bruce come with him. Why did he think spending the entire day with Molly would do anything but make him even more unreasonably drawn to her?
You didn’t. You knew that’s what would happen. And you did it anyway.
“Have we decided?” the waitress asked, reappearing at their table.
“Turkey club.” He handed the menu back, even though he’d barely looked at it. Surely a diner had a turkey club on the menu.
“Banana pancakes,” Molly said.
“Did you want whipped cream and powdered sugar?” the waitress asked.
“Just butter and syrup, thanks.”
“Suit yourself, honey.”
When the waitress was safely out of earshot, Molly leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “Do you think they put powdered sugar on everything here? You better watch out. Your turkey club might come with a dusting of sugar.”
Her whiskey eyes were so beautiful they made all his other thoughts drift away. And when she teased him like that, like they were any two people and not a priest and his sister-in-law's friend...
With that sparkle in Molly’s eyes and the way it made him want to reach across the table—thiswas why he should let himself be reassigned. Now. Yesterday. Before he did something he couldn’t take back.
