Christmas Comes to Main Street (8 page)

Kara blinked. “What do you mean by a business plan?”

Nate stifled a groan. Of course. She hadn't taken out a loan, hadn't needed one. No one was backing this place. She'd sunk her own money into it. She hadn't needed to pitch her idea to anyone, hadn't needed to prove that she could make it a success.

He gritted his teeth. Reminded himself for the umpteenth time,
Say nothing
.

“I can tell you want to say something,” Kara cut in. She lifted her chin, her gaze steady. “Go on.”

Nate pulled in a breath. Since she'd asked for it… “I think… I think you might serve yourself better by hiring some part-time help.”

She snorted. “That's all you've got?” She shook her head, laughing to herself as she walked over to the back of the room, where the rows of gingerbread houses were kept. “Of course I need part-time help. The only problem is that help doesn't come free.”

“Yes, but…” He frowned, suddenly wondering if he'd misread the situation. But no. His aunt had specifically said that Kara had used her inheritance to start this business, and she'd as good as admitted it herself when she admitted to not having a business plan.

Kara turned. “Believe me, I'd love nothing more than to hire someone to help me out. Especially around the holidays. But for now, that's not in the cards.”

He wanted to tell her it would never be in the cards if she drove away business by trying to juggle too many parts of the business. She should focus on what she did best: baking. She was one hell of a baker.

He couldn't resist. He reached for another cookie, cocking his eyebrow when she caught him. “May I? I'll pay.”

Her expression softened. “You may. And it's on the house. Now, speaking of houses…”

She carried the gingerbread house from last night's bazaar to the center island and carefully set it down. It was even more charming than he remembered it, made even better by the thoughtful additions she'd made to the decorations. She'd even placed a pear tree in the front yard, complete with a little partridge.

“How did you make this?” he marveled, bending for a closer look. He was astounded to realize that if you looked through the windows, she'd actually decorated the inside of the house as well. The walls were painted, some to even look like wallpaper, and there was a hearth and Christmas tree in the main room. Even a staircase draped in garland.

This thing could sell for three times what she was asking, if not more. And Kara was basically giving it away for free. He couldn't imagine how much time this took. Had she calculated her hourly breakdown after the cost of supplies?

He scowled to himself. He doubted it.

“Everything is edible, well, technically. I use different ingredients: icing, sugar, marshmallow, marzipan paste, gummy candies, pretty much anything I can think of. I have an entire candy closet back there.” She laughed and came to stand next to him, bending so she could point out the details. “Here are the two turtle doves,” she said, gesturing to the little birds that sat atop the chimney. “And here are the twelve drummers drumming.”

Nate followed her hand to the perfectly formed and painted miniature drums, complete with gold batons, that were tucked around the back of the house, near the pond where seven swans were swimming, but he struggled to concentrate on the gingerbread house, no matter how exquisite. Her hair brushed his arm, and her face, this close up, was smooth and creamy, her nose slightly upturned, her lips full and pink. He stiffened at the surge of heat that fired in his blood.

“Oh, and here are the lords a-leaping. I have to admit, I struggled with this one.” She laughed as she reached out her arm to point out her handiwork, her body grazing his in the process. Nate felt something in his groin tighten as the soft material of her sweater skimmed his hand. She seemed smaller this close to him, and more animated, too. Her blue eyes danced as she walked him through the changes, and her smile never left her face. He liked being close to her like this. Liked the femininity of her energy, the little gestures she made with her fingers, the sweet smell of vanilla that seemed to float off her body.

“So, what do you think?” she asked as she righted herself to a standing position. She was staring at him expectantly, her eyes somewhat hopeful, and there was no way he couldn't be dead honest with her.

“I think you are doing yourself a major disservice,” he said.

Her smile dropped at once. “Excuse me?”

“This gingerbread house. How long did it take you from start to finish, including the custom changes I asked for?”

Kara shrugged and looked at the house in dismay. “I don't know. I didn't really calculate it. I time how long I bake everything, but the rest… I just work until it's finished.”

Meaning she started early and finished late. If she ever finished at all.

“This gingerbread house is worth four times what you're charging.”

“Four times!” Kara scoffed and looked at him like he was half crazy. He refused to feed into it. “Please. Maybe in the big city, but not in Briar Creek.”

“The supplies alone cost money. Then you have to factor in your time. This is a work of art, Kara. You have a real gift,” he added softly.

She stared at him for a moment, then dismissed his words again with a wave of her hand. “I don't want to take advantage of anyone. I think this is a fair price and clearly my customers do, too. I've limited myself to three completed houses a day, and I always sell out.”

No surprise there. Deciding to let the matter rest, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He had twice what she'd asked for on him in cash. He handed it all to her.

Kara glanced at the money and back to him, her cheeks reddening. “I can't accept that.”

“Take it.” He thrust his hand forward. “You did extra work on it. You've earned it.”

A small smile teased the corners of her mouth. “Wow. Well, thank you. It wasn't necessary, but thank you.” She took the money and slipped it into her apron pocket. Composing herself, she joked, “Just think, at this rate, I might be able to get some part-time help after all.”

She'd be able to get some part-time help by tomorrow if she'd listen to some of his suggestions. Then she'd be able to spend more time making the gingerbread houses and cookies she sold, too.

He'd let his advice sink in, like his suggestion for coffee. And he hoped she'd listen to him, too. Something told him she didn't just want to make this business a success. Something told him she needed to.

Four hours after Nate left with the gingerbread house and the cookies for tea, Kara was still struggling to wipe the grin off her face. He'd liked her cookies. A lot. And he'd loved her gingerbread house.

Oh, she knew that folks in town thought they were cute. And she really did love coming up with new ideas for each one. But a compliment from Nate meant a little more, given the fact that he assessed businesses for a living. And whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, he did seem to know what he was saying.

“Well, aren't you chipper this afternoon,” Molly said when she came into the shop.

It was true that her good mood had carried her all through the afternoon, and she'd accomplished a record amount in the short period of time. “Ready to meet Ivy?” she asked as she untied her apron strings from her waist.

Before Kara started the bakery, she used to see her friend Ivy almost every day. These days she was lucky to see Ivy once a week, even though they both worked on Main Street. Come the start of the year, she vowed once again, she'd get a better balance on things. She'd take advantage of the holiday demand, get through this crazy time, and then hopefully grow her business in a new and better way in the new year. And after Nate's words, she felt downright optimistic that this could happen.

“Sure.” Molly didn't seem quite as enthusiastic as Kara would expect a bride to be. After all, didn't most girls dream of the day they would pick out the flowers for their bouquet? Kara knew she had, and she remembered Molly doing the same. Molly loved weddings, always had—ever since she'd been chosen to be a flower girl in a distant cousin's wedding at the tender age of four—and it was one of the reasons she'd been so determined to get a job at the bridal magazine.

Her sister seemed quiet as they walked toward Petals on Main, and Kara filled the gaps with stories from the bazaar, where she had sold all but five cookies by the end of the night. It had been a success, even if they still didn't have a Christmas present for their mother…

Ivy was finishing up a beautiful holiday arrangement when the sisters entered the shop, full of red and creamy ivory blooms. Molly perused the shop while Kara chatted with her friend, eager to catch up on the latest details of her upcoming wedding.

“When I see flowers like this, I start to wish I'd gone with a Christmas wedding.” Ivy sighed and blew an auburn strand of hair from her forehead. “But I always knew when I got married I'd have peonies, and so… spring it is!”

“Peonies are very popular with our readers,” Molly agreed sagely.

“It will be worth waiting for,” Kara said, even though she couldn't exactly relate. Still, it was what she told herself when she started to get a little lonely or wonder when her turn would come, as her sister said. She liked to think that by the time the right guy came along, she'd look back on her life and know that he was worth it. Still, despite how much she tried to convince herself she was fine just having her bakery, it would be nice if he'd come along soon…

And she wouldn't mind if he looked sort of like Nate.

“So you're getting married in Briar Creek?” Ivy remarked. “Here I thought you'd want something big and splashy in Boston.”

“Oh.” Molly shrugged. “There's nothing unique about that. A country wedding, though… you can really build on that theme.”

“Are you still planning on Valentine's Day?” Ivy asked Molly.

Molly looked up from the red roses she was inspecting. “Yep. Valentine's Day. The most romantic day of the year!”

Kara decided to keep her feelings to herself, even if she did worry Molly was hurrying things a bit. She had a bad feeling that Molly was rushing the wedding out of fear that Todd would break things off again, and if that was the case, she probably shouldn't be marrying him at all. But was that really for her to say? She wasn't sure. She'd talk to her mother about it first.

Ivy considered this. “Red would be the obvious palette then, but pink or purple would work just as well. I've always been partial to lilac, personally.”

Molly scrunched up her nose. “I know my mother would love nothing more than for me to go with pink, but it's really not me at all. I'll let you have pink, Kara,” she teased.

“Gee, thanks.” But Kara didn't mind. Neither girl may have followed in their mother's love for ballet, but Kara had always been partial to pink—it was one of the reasons why she'd chosen to make it the color scheme of her shop. Of course, she couldn't deny that she got a little thrill from seeing her mother's expression at the first walk-through. She couldn't help it; even now, at her age, she longed for her mother's approval, no matter how difficult it was to come by.

Molly related, but it wasn't the same for her. She was the youngest and in many ways could do no wrong. And now she lived in Boston, and when she visited, her mother rolled out the red carpet.

All the more reason for Kara to make her mark in town and prove to her mother, and to all the doubters, that she could stick with something and succeed at it. She hoped to prove it to herself, too.

“What about a mixed bouquet in shades of red, white, and purple?” Ivy suggested. She pulled a binder from under her workstation and began thumbing through pages of past events, each picture almost prettier than the one before it. Stopping halfway through, she turned the binder and slid it to Molly. “I may tuck in a few pink flowers just for variety, but I promise it will be subtle.”

“I trust you,” Molly said. She reached into her tote and pulled out some examples of pages she'd ripped from past issues of the magazine she worked for. “I like this kind of vase. It really creates a sense of height. It makes a statement.” She shuffled through the cutouts. “So long as it looks just like this, it will be perfect.”

“Then you're the easiest bride I've had all year, and that's counting myself.” Ivy laughed. “I know I gave Grace a hard time when she couldn't commit to a dress, but I'm still undecided.”

“We'll go together then. I know all the latest trends, and I might even be able to get you a good deal,” Molly said, and the girls began chatting excitedly about lace and satin and taffeta and veils. Kara felt her smile slowly begin to fade as the tug in her chest grew a little tighter. She was happy for her sister and friend—how could she not be—but she couldn't help but feel a little left out.

She waited politely until the conversation had ended before changing the topic. “Mark's party is tonight. Are you both going?” She hadn't been sure she would make it, but she'd been so productive this afternoon that she could stand to take a night off to enjoy herself. And if she got twitchy, as she sometimes did, she might pop into the bakery to get a start on tomorrow afterward.

“Wouldn't miss it,” Ivy said, nodding. “Brett made sure to swap shifts for the night, so he's not on call. What about Todd, Molly? Is your fiancé going to be joining us?”

Molly reddened as she flipped through her magazine pages. “Oh. No… No, he has to work, so… He's still in Boston.” Her smile was bright, but if Kara didn't know better, she'd say it was masking something.

“Oh, too bad.” Ivy shrugged. “Well, you girls will have each other then. And you never know, Kara. A cute guy might be there.”

Kara highly doubted that. She'd long ago given up on finding a man around here. She'd dated several, and that hadn't panned out, and the other eligible bachelors weren't her type. She'd known them all her life, and they were officially friend material only.