Worst Christmas Gift Ever.

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I flipped over the open sign to my bakery, mentally preparing myself for the morning rush. Although, it's not so bad when you know everyone and they're all polite. Definitely makes my job easier. Like clockwork, as soon as it hit 8:05, Mr. Watson walked in. I immediately grinned. At the very least, I'll always have one loyal customer.

"Good morning, dear," he said, his usual greeting.

"Good morning. Would you like your usual?"

"I think I'd like to switch it up, actually."

I raised a brow and he broke down into laughs. "Very funny old man," I teased.

"Blueberry muffin and black coffee to go."

"You got it."

We chatted a little as I got his things for him, and as he paid, then he left as the typical flood of high school juniors and seniors stopped in. The morning rush faded after a couple hours and after the cases nearly ran empty of muffins, pastries, scones, and some savory things. I noticed the fridge in the corner was also lacking in a few things. Mainly fruit and yogurt cups, and a few juices and waters. Luckily, around that time one of my best friends comes in to work the front while I start baking again.

She smiled as she tied an apron around her waist then started getting herself a latte. "God, it always smells so good in here."

"You say that every time you walk in," I laughed.

"And I will continue to. At least until you burn something."

"Which I hope never happens."

"Me too," she agreed. I moved into the industrial kitchen and she hovered in the doorway so we could still talk, and she could still look out for customers. "I'm glad you opened Beck's Bakery."

"Yeah?"

"I think it's just what this town needed. It's always been seriously lacking in the dessert area. Besides the usual Ben and Jerry's from the market."

I laughed as I measured some cocoa powder into a bowl. "Box mix cakes and brownies."

"I still love me a good Pillsbury brownie, not gonna lie."

I clicked my tongue. "Me too."

She gasped. "No way! Don't tell me it's actually what you've been serving this entire time," she teased.

"Of course not. I could so go for some Ben and Jerry's though, now that you mention it."

"Want me to pick some up for tonight?"

"Yeah, why not? Chunky Monkey for me please."

"Alright. Quinn's favorite is the half-baked right?"

"Yup."

"And Cherry Garcia for me. Any ideas for dinner?"

"Quinn said something about bringing the twins–"

She cut me off. "She's bringing her mac n' cheese, isn't she?"

"If I had to guess, yeah."

"Thank. God. I've been craving it for days. I even thought about stopping by her and Wes's."

I was about to respond, but we both heard the door open, so Tatum wordlessly went to the counter. I could still hear her voice carry through the door and it was nice. Comforting even. I'm so glad she was willing to work here. Although, willing feels like the wrong word. She was practically begging me to be part of this and I couldn't deny her. She so badly wanted to be part of it. Of course, her sweet tooth is pretty on par with mine, so it really was a no brainer.

          

I've known her practically my entire life. She's been my best friend since the third grade. Her hair is still just as wonderfully dark brown with the cutest bangs that make her green eyes pop. You'd think they'd hide her eyes, but it's actually the thing that draws you in even more. She's very obviously bright and vibrant and warm and just an absolute sunshine. She's funny and brilliant and such a solid friend. She'd do anything for the people she cares about. We've been there for each other through everything. Every mistake, every triumph, every bad breakup... everything. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

My friendship with Quinn is a bit different from mine with Tatum's. She moved here, to White Lake, New York, just two years ago with her boyfriend and twin babies. We met when she opened up a floral shop next to my bakery, and I have to say, she is incredibly talented. Not once have I gotten a bouquet I didn't love. I also have to say, she's the most amazing mom. She's kind and patient, and you can just feel how much she loves her kids. I admire her so much for everything she's doing, I know I would never be able to do what she is.

I can't wait for tonight. Our weekly Friday night dinners are so much fun and something I always look forward to. Sometimes Quinn brings the twins, sometimes she doesn't, but Tatum always brings the wine. And it's good wine. I'm so excited to spend some time with them, and I'm so relieved that the three of us formed such a close bond. I really needed it.

I dumped the now finished brownie batter into a pan and put it into one of the ovens, then moved on to making the filling for some cinnamon rolls. I was just about to roll the dough out when the door to the kitchen opened and Tatum was fanning herself, which can only mean one thing.

"Joey Delgado just walked in."

Yeah, that seems about right. "Tell him I'll be there in a second."

She nodded and eagerly went out to talk to him. I knew her, though, and I knew it wouldn't be anything other than casual conversation. She's absolutely obsessed with her hot Australian boyfriend, so she'd never do anything to jeopardize that. It's just fun to talk about how attractive he is.

I quickly finished rolling the cinnamon rolls, then cut them and put them back in the proving drawer. I washed my hands before walking out to the counter. Just like I expected, Joey and Tatum were happily chatting, and he was cut short when he noticed me. Something seemed different about him today. His facial hair looked the same, albeit maybe slightly trimmed and neater than the last time I saw him (which was yesterday), but I don't think that's it. His hair was still brown and curly and shoulder length, so that couldn't be it. Was it his smile?

Yes. That's definitely it. It's not as big and easy going as it normally is. He's tense. Something's bothering him.

"What's wrong?" I immediately asked.

"Nothing."

I arched a brow. "Nice reflex."

He relaxed and even laughed. "Seriously, nothing's wrong. How's your day been?"

"The usual. Baking, selling, baking, selling."

"Sounds like it's been alright then."

"Yeah, it has. So, what's up? What brings you in today?"

"I'm hoping you still have some of that amazing eggnog biscotti."

I grinned. "And you thought you wouldn't like it."

"Well, when you pair it with your family's eggnog recipe that isn't really eggnog, it's pretty good."

"Just pretty good?" I asked as I grabbed a bag and walked down to where the biscotti is. He followed on the other side of the counter.

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