Chapter 7

7

FELICITY

W alking away from Jace had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Being with him, talking with him had just felt so right. She reminded herself that of course it would feel right; she had created his character to be her perfect dream lover. But it didn’t feel like a dream or even some kind of alternate reality. It felt real. What if it was? What if this was her new reality? What if what she’d thought was her life had only been some kind of bad dream?

Thinking about any of it was giving her a headache. Besides, she had cookies and other baked goods to place. Apparently Cozy Cravings was a happening kind of spot. She had a steady stream of customers—not at all what she had envisioned in her book. She’d seen it as a small-town bakery that was being replaced by one of the larger franchise or grocery chain bakeries. Why had she set her heroine up as a failure? Was she projecting her own fears about her writing onto the Felicity in the book?

Banishing the thoughts of the nature of her dual existence, Felicity concentrated on the tasks at hand, her skilled fingers plunging into the soft, pliable mound of dough in front of her with a sense of purpose and urgency. The flour-covered surface of the bakery counter turned her knuckles white as she kneaded rhythmically, her whole body moving in sync with the task at hand. A fine dusting of flour painted her arms like a baker's tattoo. In this familiar space, her sanctuary at Cozy Cravings, the chaos and confusion of recent events seemed to fade away like wisps of flour dust in the warm, fragrant air.

But even amidst the comforting sounds of whirring mixers, clinking measuring cups, and softly thudding dough, Felicity couldn't shake the memory of her encounter with Jace Winterborne. His sudden appearance had upended her carefully constructed reality, leaving her feeling unmoored and unsettled. For a brief moment, she let herself think about his tousled dark hair and piercing eyes, like those of the towering pine trees that surrounded Christmas Valley.

As much as she immersed herself in the work, Felicity's mind betrayed her, unbidden images of Jace Winterborne filtering through the sieve of her concentration. She recalled his gaze, heavy with an intensity that seemed to see through her defenses—could he see the real her? Did he know he was a figment of her imagination? It left her feeling both exposed and intrigued. His hair had peeked out from under his knit hat, slightly curling at the edges, teasing her with the urge to reach out and touch.

The memory of his grin tugged at the corners of her own lips—a playful, mischievous expression that had sparked something within her, an attraction that was as unexpected as it was powerful. It was the kind of smile that came with its own gravity, pulling her in without permission, leaving her orbiting around the possibility of him.

Felicity tried to focus on the repetitive motion of kneading, the push and pull that usually grounded her—or rather, the fictional her—but it was no use. The solid feel of Jace's presence lingered in her senses, stubbornly vivid, as if he'd somehow imprinted himself onto her reality. His bright eyes held a tease, a promise of laughter and the secrets that could be shared between two souls, and it unsettled her. Warmth curled low in her belly when she thought of his smile, a heat that spread slowly and insidiously, reminding her that he had stirred something in her from the moment she had first conceived of him, and that had only intensified and expanded when they locked eyes.

This pull toward him was a complication she hadn't anticipated, an inconvenient truth that disoriented her well-ordered world. She had to keep reminding herself this wasn’t real—or was it? Nevertheless, what she was feeling was undeniable, and it frightened her with its intensity. How could someone who had stepped straight out of her imagination wield such power over her? Each time she closed her eyes, she saw his face, and the flutter in her heart whispered of things she wasn't sure she was ready to explore.

With a shake of her head, Felicity pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the physicality of her baking tasks. The resistance of the dough beneath her hands provided a welcome distraction from the swirling emotions within her.

As she measured out precise portions of dough for various pastries and breads, her mind kept flickering back to Jace's unexpected touch. It had been electric, igniting a warmth in her that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. She forced herself to stay grounded in the present moment, pouring all of her confusion and desire into each culinary creation before her.

The repetitive motions were almost meditative, soothing in their simplicity. She was increasingly aware that her dream or alternate reality was far more relaxing and fulfilling than what she remembered her reality as being. Before moving to New York, Felicity had loved to bake, but her small apartment in the midst of the city didn’t allow for that. She realized with a small pang that she missed the task and wondered why she had given it up so willingly.

The scents of vanilla and cinnamon enveloped Felicity like a comforting embrace, anchoring her in this little corner of the world where she could escape from unexpected complications—particularly those involving tall, ruggedly handsome men. With each pat and mold of the dough, she reaffirmed her resolve to focus solely on her baking, at least for now. As she looked down at the shape she had created in dough, she realized that perhaps allowing her mind to wander was not the best idea. The shape of the dough before her was definitely phallic.

Snorting at her own whimsy, Felicity rolled the shape up, folded it back in on itself and decided to focus on making the shape something a little less risqué. For a little while longer, she could hide away from the outside world and all of its complexities in the heart of her novel and her beloved bakery.

The freshly baked golden brown cookies emerged from the ovens, their edges glistening and perfectly crisped as Felicity carefully slid them onto the cooling racks. The sweet scent of chocolate chips mingled with the rich aroma of buttery dough, enveloping the bakery in a warm, comforting cloud. Felicity closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to be lost in the familiar and soothing smells that surrounded her.

But even in this peaceful haven, she couldn't completely escape the tumultuous emotions that had been swirling inside her since Jace, the hero from her unfinished novel, had just become a part of this reality. The heat from the ovens flushed her cheeks, but it paled in comparison to the intense heat she had felt when Jace was near—a tingling sensation on her skin under his piercing gaze, an involuntary shiver down her spine at the sound of his voice, the simmer in her nether regions. Nether regions? Good god. I am really starting to lose it. In this quiet corner of her bakery, with flour dusting her apron and her hands busy shaping, or in some cases re-shaping, dough, Felicity found temporary respite from the predicament into which she seemed to have fallen and the overwhelming attraction to a man who didn’t really exist that threatened to consume her.

The door from the outside burst open, and a woman who could only be Ivy Sinclair, book Felicity’s best friend. Ivy had spent the summers in the village with her grandmother who owned the local bookstore, Timeless Tales. Ivy stomped the snow from her feet as she entered. She shook herself before removing her heavy winter coat and thrusting it up onto one of the coat hooks Felicity provided for her customers.

"Girl, you wouldn't believe who I just saw at the market!" Ivy always entered a room with a flurry of energy. This time it wasn’t just energy but a gust of cold air and snowflakes that quickly melted on the warm tiles. Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement beneath a tangle of short, dark curls.

Felicity turned to face the best friend she had created for her heroine and who had become a part of this warped reality in which she found herself. Still dusted with flour, she braced herself for whatever Ivy was about to share. She knew all too well that Ivy was like a force of nature—unstoppable, unpredictable, and utterly endearing—the ideal best friend Felicity had always wanted in her real life.

"Who?" Felicity asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the sudden fluttering in her stomach. A part of her hoped it would be something related to Jace, while another part feared it would be.

Ivy leaned against the counter with a conspiratorial grin. "Only the most eligible bachelors in town. And let me tell you, the selection is looking mighty fine this season."

As Ivy launched into a rapid-fire account of newcomers, tourists and old flames, Felicity did her best to keep up, nodding and smiling where appropriate. Where was Ivy getting all of this? I didn’t write this much backstory for her. But beneath the lighthearted banter, there was an underlying edge—a sharpness to Ivy's words that hinted at their shared yearnings for love and connection. As each mention of romance and courtship passed by, Felicity's thoughts drifted back to Jace—to the thrill of possibility mingled with the fear of getting hurt or waking up to find the whole thing had been just a dream—a dream from which she was starting to not want to wake. The sugary scent of baked goods suddenly seemed cloying as she tried to push away her conflicting emotions and focus on Ivy's gossipy tales.

In the bustling bakery, amidst the cacophony of clanging pans, the thump of dough against marble, and the steady flow of customers, Felicity's hands moved with a fluid grace. Each pastry was skillfully molded as if it were an extension of her own flesh and blood. The heat from the ovens enveloped her like a warm embrace, the intoxicating scents of chocolate and vanilla swirling through the air like sweet threads.

But then, Ivy's voice pierced through the cozy tapestry of aromas and sounds, sharp as a knife yet infectious in its excitement. "And guess what? There's this gorgeous, muscular hunk who's just taken over Northwind Lodge."

Felicity's fingers faltered around a ball of dough, a shiver running down her spine at the mention of his name. She could feel her heart racing, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of nerves and excitement. It wasn't just fear that caused her grip on the counter to tighten; it was the undeniable spark of recognition—the image of merry eyes and a crooked smile that she feared would haunt her every waking moment.

"Really?" Felicity tried to sound nonchalant, tucking a stray curl behind her ear but her hand trembled slightly, betraying her inner turmoil.

Ivy giggled, her crystal-clear laughter ringing through the kitchen as she leaned closer with mischief vibrant in her eyes. "Don’t give me that innocent look. Like it or not, it’s all over town. Everyone says you had quite the encounter with him. A literal run-in with the new owner of the lodge. I got to hand it to you, I never thought of colliding into a wall of muscle like that and spilling cookies all over him."

A blush crept up Felicity's cheeks at the memory of Jace's solid frame colliding with hers, igniting a fire within her that she couldn't deny. Her best friend's amusement only added fuel to the flames, the thought of their accidental meeting being common knowledge sending a flicker of panic through her mind.

"Is that so?" Felicity attempted a smirk, hoping to hide the rush of blood to her face and the curious fluttering at the base of her spine. "Well, people do love their little gossipy tales, don't they?"

"Gossip? You make that sound like a bad thing," Ivy said with a knowing glint in her eyes. "But we both know there's nothing 'little' about a collision with destiny—or a man like that."

The knowing look in Ivy's eyes was enough to send another shiver down Felicity's spine. As much as she wanted to dismiss it all as idle gossip, deep down, she knew this was more than just a chance encounter. It felt more and more like the turning of a page, the beginning of a chapter she hadn't dared to write—even in her wildest dreams. Was it fate or the wishes she’d wished coming through?

The bakery continued to hum with activity, but Felicity’s thoughts were consumed by the memory of Jace’s touch—strong yet gentle, igniting a flame within her that she couldn’t deny. She could feel his presence lingering in the room, his voice echoing in her mind. As the delicious aromas swirled around her, Felicity couldn’t help but wonder what fate had in store for her now that she had awakened in her own novel and Jace had arrived in town.