CeeCee slaps her leg, and laughs. When she’s composed she says in a more serious tone, “Sounds as though you know what’s in your heart, Lil. I’m a let you stew on it a bit more.” She pulls me up from the lounge. “Come help me in the kitchen. I promised your mamma I was going to look after you. We need to get some meat on those bones of yours.”
“I got plenty of meat on these bones, Cee.”
“You could use a little more.”
We enter the small kitchen. The table is laid with a red tablecloth, and small green candles sit in the center. Gold Christmas crackers are neatly lined up next to the cutlery. The delicious smell of turkey wafts out from the oven. I think of calling Damon. I can see him sitting here, carving up the meat, and joking with CeeCee. But I don’t, just in case he says no.
“You want me to baste it?” I ask.
“Sure thing, honey. And I’m gonna start the gravy. I’ll call the kids in to come say hello.”
I yawn as I park the car in my driveway. It’s nearly two a.m., and fatigue hits me like a brick. CeeCee and I got to talking and time raced away, as it does. One by one, the kids disappeared and the house grew quiet, until it was just the two of us sitting at the table, drinking gingerbread coffees.
The truck door creaks with protest as I push it open and hop down from the seat. I jump, startled, as I see a figure on the porch.
“Sorry, I scared you.”
“No, it’s OK.”
“I couldn’t stay away,” he says.
“Oh, yeah?”
Heat floods my body as I run to him. I lift my face to his and kiss him full on the mouth. My heartbeat quickens as he moves his hands around my hips and pulls me closer. Cupping my face, he stops to gaze at me. “Yeah. If he wants you, he’s going to have to fight me for you.”
We laugh. “I’ve seen those muscles of yours. I think we’d better appoint the winner now, and save all the bloodshed.”
He nuzzles into my neck, and I break out in goose bumps. We stand under the light of the moon, and look at each other, grinning like fools. “I missed you like crazy,” he says, and bends to kiss me.
Joel and the memory of the years we spent together drift into the night, forgotten. From now on in, I only want the real thing. I’m not settling for second best any more.
Before I forget, I go to the truck, and retrieve Damon’s present. He unwraps it delicately and I frown at the memory of myself wrenching the paper off the gift box when he gave me the turkey.
When he sees what it is, he stares at me, with that same all-knowing look, as if we’ve done this before. “She’s going to love that.”
“I hope so,” I say. “After all, she’s the most important person in your life, and I just want you to know I respect that. To me, your child, no matter what the circumstance, should be number one.”
Damon embraces me, and whispers, “How’d I get to be so lucky?”
I lead him inside, past the Christmas tree with its flashing lights, so bright and colorful as if it’s shrieking congratulations to us. I hold that thought in my heart, and vow never to forget this moment.
I pull Damon to the bedroom; all I want to do is fall asleep in the comfort of his arms. I can’t wait to tell CeeCee. By now, she’s probably planning the wedding; what with her second sight and all, she’ll already know the date, the location, and what kind of dress I’ll be wearing.
Chocolate…the most irresistible temptation?
The Gingerbread Café is all a buzz! This Easter, Lily and the rest of the town of Ashford, Connecticut are planning a truly decadent Chocolate Festival. Cooking up a storm, CeeCee and Lily are not just baking a batch of their sinfully delicious chocolate-dipped gingerbread men, but an excess of chocolate truffles, squidgy, cinnamony hot cross buns and melt in your mouth chocolate eggs. The Gingerbread Café staff have definitely enjoyed the tasting process!
Add in Damon’s cute-as-a-button seven year old daughter, Charlie, up for a visit and Lily’s perfect Easter may just be around the corner. Until her ex-husband Joel turns up demanding twenty thousand dollars… Suddenly the future of the Gingerbread Café is not so clear…and Lily finds herself eating far more of The Gingerbread Café’s treats than her skinny jeans allow.
Can Lily concoct a brilliant plan to save her beloved café, convince Damon she has no feelings for Joel and still throw a Chocolate Festival the town will be talking about for years? There’s only one way to find out…
Welcome back to the warmth, cupcakes and sweet confections of The Gingerbread Café – your home away from home!
Praise for REBECCA RAISIN’s Christmas at the Gingerbread Café
‘Christmas at the Gingerbread Café is a lovely, cheery festive read, a good old-fashioned feel-good romance to warm the cockles of your heart. This is one of my favourite Christmas reads of the year.’ Books with Bunny
‘This is a great novella that I really enjoyed reading and found that I didn’t want to put it down. It is the perfect read to get you in the mood for Christmas and my mouth was watering after reading about all of the delicious-sounding baking. If you are looking for a Christmassy romance then don’t look any further than Rebecca Raisin’s brilliant debut.’ Bookbabblers
‘Raisin not only excels in creating a festive mood — the tone of family and friends coming together is sweet — but also portrays a lovely winter wonderland setting, where things are covered in snow. This makes the book feel cosy and safe. It’s definitely an uplifting read.’ Sam Still Reading
‘This is a short and incredibly sweet novella that explores a very endearing and unexpected romance. It is definitely one that will make you laugh and warm your heart, and one that can be happily devoured in one sitting.’ Louisa’s Reviews
‘If you love Christmas, romance and HEA then you will love this sweet novella.
This one gets an A.!’ Clue Review
To Alyssa Davies, it wouldn't have happened without your spider-girl powers, so thank you.
“Good morning, pretty ladies. I come bearing gifts on this picture-perfect spring day,” Damon says mock-formally, and bows. He steps through the doorway of the Gingerbread Café, brandishing an almighty postal tube like a sword. My heartbeat quickens at the sight of him. His wavy hair is lit by the sunshine behind casting a golden glow over him, like a spotlight.
My only employee, CeeCee, fluffs her curls, before giving him a great big launch hug that nearly knocks him off his feet and makes him groan with delight. She’s a big bundle of southern exuberance, and is more like a friend and mother-figure to me.
“And pray tell, what is it?” she asks, pointing to the plain white packaging.
“Well, it’s not a shrilling turkey, let’s just say that.” He winks.
I smile and glance over at the cash register where the God-awful bright yellow shrilling turkey he gave me at Christmas sits, like a mascot.
Damon walks