Chapter Five

Wynter

The Cozy Oven is packed with the usual late afternoon crowd, and the scent of cinnamon and fresh bread swirls in the air. I take a deep breath, letting the warmth of the bakery soak into mychilly bones.

I sit at my favorite table, catching a glimpse of Drake passing by the library's glass doors across the street. My heart gallops at the sight of Drake the Cake. I can’t believe that not only do I find the grumpiest man in Pinegrove devastatingly attractive, butI actually like the man. There’s a playful side to him. And a sexy side, too.

“Wynter!” Rachel bounds towards me, all smiles and energy. She slides into the seat across from mine, dropping an overflowing shopping bag on the chair beside her. “You look… flushed.”

“I’m fine,” I wave a napkin in front of my face. “It’s warm in here.”

She narrows her eyes, leaning forward. “That flush to your cheeks isn’t from the heat, honey. That’s from a man. Oh my God!” She flips her hand up. “It’s Drake! Isn’t it? I knew it!”

I groan, covering my face in my hands for a moment before dropping them back to the table. “Okay, yes. Maybe.”

Rachel lets out a gleeful squeal, practically bouncing in her seat. “I knew my flirting tips would work! See? I told you! A little bit of playful banter, and you’d have him wrapped around your finger.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “Well, I don’t know about ‘wrapped around my finger,’ but he’s definitely... paying attention.”

Rachel leans back, crossing her arms smugly. “And? It’s not just about wrapping him around your finger to get your way, is it? You like him, don’t you?”

I hesitate, biting my lip. “It’s worse.” I shiver. “I think I’m attracted to him.”

She gasps, covering her mouth. “Wynter! The man you were convinced was a total Grinch with a heart of black coal?”

“Yes.” I huff out a breath. “There’s something about him, Rach. He’s not all moody with me anymore. In fact, he’s playful.”

Rachel’s smile softens, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “Of course he is. You have that effect on people, Wynter. Your sunshine would melt the hardest of hearts. Drake Hudson is in troubleandprobably doesn’t even know it. Not only will you turn his library into a winter castle, but you’ll also make him addicted to all things Christmas in no time. No one loves Christmas like you do, honey. Absolutely no one.”

Instantly, my chest aches. My grandmother infected me with her love for the holidays. And no one decorated like her, baked like her, or shared the joy of giving like she did. “This is my first Christmas without Gran.”

Rachel reaches for my hand. “Oh, honey…”

I swallow hard, blinking back tears. “She always made everything so magical, you know? She was the reason Christmas felt like… more than just a holiday. She made it feel like pure magic.”

Rachel nods. “Your Gran was incredible. I can’t even imagine how hard this must be for you.”

“It is. It’s hard not to be sad knowing I’ll never see her again or spend another Christmas at her house.” I admit. “But if she were here, she wouldn’t let me dwell. Not Gran. She’d pinch my cheeks, give me a hug that stays with me for hours, and tell me to take the pain that I’m feeling and turn it into ajoy to give to someone else. By doing this winter festival, I want to honor her. I want to share the magic she brought to every Christmas with the entire town…and Drake.” I shake my head. “It’s silly, but I want to melt his Grinch-like heart and show him what Christmas can really be. It’s like…if I can do that…if I can make other people smile…I’ll be able to keep Gran’s spirit alive somehow.”

Rachel gives me a tender smile. “It’s not silly at all. You have the biggest heart, honey. And I think Drake needs someone like you in his life, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

I feel a pang in my chest at the thought of Drake. “He tries to act indifferent about the decorations like he doesn’t care,” I sip my coffee, “but deep down, I think he’s happy with what I’ve done so far.”

Rachel grins. “Girl, you keep wearing cute little outfits like you’ve got on, and that man isn’t going to know what him.”

“This?” I glance down at my sweater and jeans. “There’s nothing special about it.”

She rolls her eyes, leaning in. “Umm, trust me. It’s special. You just don’t know how a man’s mind works is all. I’ve been married for fifteen years. I speak man, neanderthal, and toddler language. As a matter of fact, let’s test my knowledge. Walk over to the counter and get me an apricot pastry.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.” She waves her hand.

Deciding that arguing with Rachel isn’t going to get me anywhere, I buy two apricot pastries and sit back down. “Happy?” I slide one over to her.

“Indeed.” She turns a napkin around. “Ten out of twelve men in here watched you walk to the counter, honey. Jeans and a sweater on you? Lethal.”

“You’re lying.”

“I wouldn’t dare. A true friend never lies to her Biffle. Trust me, keep dressing like that, and you’ll have Drake the Cake hanging mistletoe over every doorway in no time.”

I giggle. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Rachel says, grabbing her latte. “Now, tell me—how bad do you have it for him?”

I groan, hiding behind my cup. “Bad. Like… really bad.”

Rachel’s eyes widen with excitement. “This is getting good. Wynter Brody, falling for the Grinch. It’s like a Hallmark movie but spicier. And girlfriend,” she rips off a piece of pastry and pops it in her mouth, “you need spicy in your life.”

Suddenly, an image of Drake naked, wearing nothing but a red bow tie and a Santa hat, makes my insides melt.

Rachel’s right. I could definitely use some spice in my life.

“I wager you’ll be sitting on your librarian Santa’s lap pretty soon.” She wiggles her brows.

“You’re awful!” I giggle.

“You love me.”

“I do.” I smile.

As Rachel shares a story about her latest shopping nightmare, I nod along, but my mind is across the street, in that library, where a certain grumpy, brooding man occupies far too much space in my thoughts.

There’s more to Drake than just the gruff exterior he shows the world. I’ve seen glimpses of something deeper—something that makes my pulse race and my body tingle.

Rachel’s right. I could use some spice in my life. And maybe, just maybe, Drake Hudson is precisely the kind of heat I’ve been missing.

I take another sip of my coffee, an image of Drake leaning down, lips hovering near mine, flashing through my mind. Maybe I’ll be the one to get caught under the mistletoe with him. Or perhaps I’ll be bold enough to pull him there myself.

A small, mischievous smile tugs at my lips as I catch sight of the library doors again.

Christmas miracles happen all the time.