43. Alice

ALICE

T his man I’ve fantasized about for years is even better than all my dreams, and I’m not sure how to handle it.

It’s like I’m living out my own festive version of Cinderella.

I bite back the urge to grin like a complete fool as we step into line at a place called Firm Buns Bakery, and I try not to snicker at the name.

The line shuffles forward, and I rest my head against Michael’s body as I read the menu board mounted behind the registers.

“Know what you’d like?” Michael’s voice rumbles through his chest against my shoulder.

Reluctantly, I stand up straighter so he can hear me above the general noise of the airport.

“I’m debating between sweet and savory.”

“Which ones?” His gaze moves to the menu.

“The ham and cheese hand pie, or the cranberry and cream cheese Danish.” My mouth practically waters as I say it.

“And to drink?”

“I can just have water.” My eyes roam to the prices. “Or I can just stop at the drinking fountain.”

Michael’s chest rises with what can only be a sigh. “Baby Cakes, I appreciate your desire to be frugal, but I’m going to need you to tell me what you want to drink.”

I let out my own sigh. “Fine, Mr. Kesso. If you want to spend a million dollars on breakfast, I’ll have a peppermint mocha.”

He nods. “Okay, then.” And he’s kind enough not to point out that the flavors I’ve named will clash.

“Order for Mikayla,” someone farther down the bakery counter calls out, and my head automatically jerks in that direction.

A girl in her late teens rushes forward to take the white paper bag.

I relax.

It’s not the Mikayla who just won the holiday Second Bite .

There was nothing wrong with her. She wasn’t mean to me. But she was trying to flirt with Michael during the whole weekend, which was annoying. Though Michael did nothing to encourage her.

Then, the unwelcome image of Michael hugging Mikayla after she won flashes into my brain.

I turn my body toward Michael and glare up at him.

He keeps his arm on my shoulder, turning me into him even more.

“What’s that Scrooge look for?” There’s humor in his voice.

“I don’t like you hugging other women.” I keep my volume low, just for him.

Michael’s brows raise, clearly not expecting me to say that. “I don’t?—”

“Mikayla,” I whisper.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “That was for work, Baby. I didn’t enjoy it.”

“You better not have enjoyed it,” I grumble.

His mouth tips up into even more of a smile. “It’s just for work,” he repeats.

“Fine.” I straighten my stance as best I can. “But every time I see you hug another woman, I’m… I’m going to hug another man.”

The smile drops off his face. “And who exactly would you hug?”

My mind races to think of an answer that will annoy him the most. “Joey,” I blurt out, referencing the good-looking host of Second Bite .

Michael narrows his eyes and slides his hand from my shoulder to the back of my neck, holding me in place as he leans down so we’re eye to eye. “It’s Christmas Eve, Alice. Don’t get on the naughty list now.”

My pulse gallops through my veins.

His palm is so warm and large.

His presence even more so.

And every inch of my body is lighting up with the possibility of what my big chef would do to punish me.

His gaze drops to my mouth.

I catch my breath, forgetting all about the people around us. “Would you put coal in my stocking?”

Michael’s exhale is rough. “I’ll shove something in?—”

“Next!” the cashier calls out, cutting off whatever Michael was about to say.

For the best, I’m sure.

My legs are a little shaky as we turn and step up to the counter.

The girl at the register is looking down as she says, “Welcome to Firm Buns, what can I get for…” She trails off, her mouth hanging open as she looks at Michael. “Chef… You’re Chef M?—”

I swear her face pales, and her hands start to shake.

“Morning.” Michael nods to her.

“I-I…”

The poor girl can’t seem to compose herself.

Then she looks at me.

I smile, trying to reassure her with friendliness.

The girl yelps.

Actually yelps, like she just got bit by a reindeer.

“Um, hello,” I say awkwardly.

“Alice?” Her voice is higher pitched than it was before.

I lift my hand in a gesture that’s supposed to be a wave, not sure how to act after getting recognized for the second time this morning.

I watch, stunned as her eyes fill with tears. “I love you.”

My lips part. Then close.

Did this girl just say she loves me? Because of my three episodes on the show?

I answer the only way I can. “I love you too.”

She sways.

Michael clears his throat next to me, and I glance up to see him trying not to smile.

How is he always so hot?

I turn my attention back to the girl and read her name off her apron. “Charise, would you like to sit down?”

She nods, then shakes her head. “No, no, I’m okay.” Charise brushes a tear off her cheek. “You’re so pretty.”

A small laugh pops out of my chest at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you. You’re pretty too.”

Her face contorts, and she swipes at another tear. “You’re just as nice as you seemed on the show.” Charise’s voice cracks. “And now you’re…” She darts a look up at Michael. “You two were so cute on the show.”

Feeling like it’s the right thing to do, I reach across the counter and place my hand on her arm. “Thank you.”

She sniffles, and one of her coworkers shouts out another completed order.

“Sorry. I’ve never met a famous person before.” Charise lets out a strained laugh. “Never thought I’d be such a crier.” She looks back up at Michael. “You’re really great too, Chef Mike.”

Michael grins. “Don’t worry, I know she’s my better half.”

Charise sways again, and I start to really worry for her health.

“Is everything okay?” Another Firm Buns employee steps up beside Charise.

Charise waves her away. “I got it.” Heaving out a breath, she nods once. “What can I get for you?”

I smile at her composure, but Michael answers before I can.

“One of your cranberry Danishes, two ham and cheese hand pies, a chocolate croissant, a peppermint mocha, a black coffee, and two bottles of water.” He tips his head down to me. “Anything else?”

I resist rolling my eyes as I shake my head. “That should be enough.”