Page 11 of Take Me Home for Christmas
“Mmm,” the woman moaned. “Tatum, these are so good, girl. But you know I’m jonesing for your eggnog loaf. You’re killing me, making me wait a whole year for a slice.”
“Not until after Thanksgiving,” Tatum Fisk, the owner and chef of the Queen of Hearts Bakery said. “They wouldn’t be special if you could buy one every day.”
“As a fan of Thanksgiving, I thank you for not rushing the season,” Hayden said.
“I swear this guy is worried everyone will forget the Turkey Trot or something.” Simone mocked him with a bow. “No one will take away your champion’s crown, Lovell. Don’t worry. It will be safe for yet another year.”
Tatum chuckled. “Speaking of championships, he’s gunning for the gingerbread house-making medal, as well. Rumor has it, you and Elle McAlister used to dominate that one, too.”
Simone’s eyebrows shot to the top of her forehead. “You are making gingerbread houses this year? With Elle?”
“No.” Tatum answered before he could. “With the decorator, Livi Turner. She talked him into it last night when they stopped in here for dessert.”
Hayden groaned at Simone’s over-the-top reaction of feigning choking. He smacked her on the back.
“Whoa, ho.” She coughed out the words. “Dessert with the decorator. And gingerbread house making. Does Elle know about this?”
A customer at the counter flagged Tatum down. “Don’t answer that until I get back. I want to hear the answer.”
No way was that happening. This town was already up in his business way too much. He grabbed his travel coffee mug and headed through the door linking the bakery to the Java Jolt. A quick refill, and he’d be on his way back to the office. Unfortunately, Simone was right on his heels.
“I told you Livi was interested in your pieces,” she teased. “Did she get a peek at all your good stuff last night?”
Hayden handed his mug to Lois, the geriatric proprietress of the coffee shop, who filled it without question. “Seriously, Simone, can you fixate on someone else’s life for once?”
The woman blinked. “Just when yours is starting to get interesting?” She shook her head. “Nah.” She winked at Lois. “Our boy here is about to get tangled up in a love triangle.”
“For crying out loud, Simone. I told you, there’s nothing going on with me and Livi.”
“Does she know that?”
Now both women were arching their damn eyebrows at him.
“And I notice you didn’t rule out something going on with Elle,” Simone continued.
I want to see you settled with someone nice.
The “just not me” was implied. He was good enough to make out with when her heart was broken, and that was all.
“I don’t have to rule anything out. Everyone knows Elle and I are just friends.”
Best friends without benefits.
Elle’s future was in New York City, “where the action is.” Hayden’s life was here, in Chances Inlet. End of story.
Lois snorted at his terse response as Simone’s walkie began to squawk.
She groaned. “It’s the day before a holiday, and people are playing bumper cars in the Walmart parking lot.” She pointed a finger at Hayden as she headed for the door. “This convo isn’t over, big guy.”
Hayden went to take his travel mug back from Lois, but the woman held it tight in her gnarled fingers. “For such a smart man, you can be so dumb.” With her words of wisdom imparted, she released his mug and went to wait on another customer.
When he turned to follow Simone out of the shop, he was surprised to find Everett West seated at one of the bistro tables, staring him down over a steaming cup of coffee.
Hayden gave the guy a nod. “Good morning, Mr. West.”
“Deputy.”
The correspondent’s snarky tone immediately had Hayden’s hackles up. Why the hell was the guy lingering over a cup of coffee at the Java Jolt when he should be finishing his damn book? From what Elle told him, her promotion depended on it.