Ordinary Snowflakes by Jennifer Rodewald

Author:Jennifer Rodewald
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Fiction, Inspirational Fiction, Holiday Novella, Christmas Novella, Christian Romance, Inspirational Romance, Christmas Romance, sweet romance, clean holiday romance
Publisher: Jennifer Rodewald
Published: 2016-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Jane didn’t waste a second. “So...”

“What?” I shrugged out of my coat and, while feigning stupidity, walked toward the shelf holding our clean aprons. Actually, I wasn’t playing dumb. There were a lot of questions that could follow that dangling conversation starter. I wasn’t going to play pin the tail on the inquiry. Answering the wrong one could spell emotional disaster.

“Where to begin?” Jane grinned, bumping me with her shoulder. “Let’s start with the mystery box. What was in it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Seriously?” She pulled away and looked at me like I’d grown gills and a tail. “How is that even possible?”

Because I’m scared to find out. Couldn’t tell her that, so I kept it to myself. “I forgot about it.”

“Now I know you’re lying. There is no way on earth that you could have forgotten about a secret-Santa gift left on your front porch.”

Touché. “Fine. I didn’t forget, but I’m not sure I’m going to open it.”

“What?” Jane’s voice hit an octave that suited an opera singer.

I bit the fat part of my tongue. How was it that I finally had a suitor, and a good-looking, gentlemanlike one at that, and I was scared to death to know what he’d left for me in a surprise gift?

Suspicion replaced the shock on Jane’s face as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know who it’s from, don’t you?”

Turning away, I walked toward the front of the shop, my hands whipping the apron strings into a bow at my waist. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“It’s Joe, isn’t it?”

“Good grief, Jane.” I snagged the large water pot for the Bunn drip maker and then scowled at her. “No. We already talked about that.”

“Come on, really?”

“Really.” With more force than necessary—because, dang it, why’d she have to bring him up?—I flicked the water spout on. The hard stream of cold spray rather reflected my sudden gush of not-so-happy emotion. “Joe and I have been friends for five years. Five. Years. Why would he all of the sudden, out of the snow-laden clouds, decide to do something so...”

“Romantic?” Jane scooped fresh coffee grounds into a large filter.

“Out of character.”

“Not out of character at all. He’s a thoughtful guy.”

He was that. But not in a...romantic way. Not with me.

“Look at how devoted he is to Sydney. Not to mention your dad. And you? He comes into this shop every day. I don’t know anyone who really likes hot chocolate that much. Coffee? Yes. Tea? Sometimes. Hot cocoa? Not a soul.”

The water sloshed its way to the fill line, and I was obligated to shut off the stream. “Everyone’s allowed a quirk or two.”

“Okay, fine, Sherlock. Who do you think it was?”

I replaced the carafe, now drained and ready to receive black richness in its empty belly, and flicked the Bunn on. Spinning, I faced Jane, working up what I hoped was the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for this revelation.

Sad. Shouldn’t have to work up something like that. “Craig Erikson.”

“Craig Erikson? Mrs. Rustin’s nephew?”

How’d she know that? “Yes.

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