I brush the unruly lock of hair that managed to escape the constraints of my hair tie away from my flour-sprinkled face. Thanksgiving has passed, and Christmas is upon me. My bakery is always bustling over the holidays, but the back-to-back holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas test my holiday cheer like no other.

The months of November and December are the equivalent of running a full marathon in my baking world. November is full of turkey and colorful leaf-themed cupcakes, cookies, my best-selling pumpkin, pecan, and apple pies, as well as an assortment of bread and pastries.

December is much of the same, except that Santas, reindeer, angels, bells, sleigh cookies, and holiday wreath cupcakes replace the turkey and fall motif. It doesn't help that the number of December holiday parties is triple the number of get togethers in November.

In addition to purchasing baked goods, my customers can also enjoy delicious treats from my display case with a steaming cup of coffee or hot chocolate while taking a break from their holiday shopping.

It's Christmas Eve, and the final customers depart from my bakery with full bellies and contented smiles upon their faces. I take a moment to clean up their table before walking over to close and lock up. As I reach for the door, I get plowed over by a man rushing into my shop.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss! Am I too late? Please tell me that you're still open." He reaches down to help me up off of the floor.

I look up into his fierce ice blue eyes and admire his messy blond curly hair. I feel the heat burning into my cheeks as I accept this incredibly handsome man's offer for help, forgetting that he's the reason for my predicament.

"I was getting ready to close, but I'd be happy to assist you if I can. I have to warn you; the pickings are a bit scarce." I attempt once again to sweep the wayward hair from my flour-covered face. I cringe when I realize how unkempt I must look. I chastise myself, way to make a first impression, and look away from his penetrating eyes while brushing away the flour from my cheeks.

"I would appreciate it." He smiles, and damn if it doesn't light up my entire shop. I can't help but return his smile with one of my own.

"This way." I lead him over to the display case. "This is all that I have left. What exactly were you looking for?"

"I have no idea." He laughs. "I'm embarrassed to admit that I was a last-minute invite to a Christmas party. My friend is trying to set me up," he adds while rolling his gorgeous blue eyes.

For some reason, the thought of this man meeting up with someone else makes my heart constrict, which confuses the hell out of me. I'm not even close to wanting to be anywhere near a relationship.

"I'm nervous as hell." He continues, "and to be honest, I don't even want to go." He looks down into the case.

"Why are you going?" Shit! Did I say that out loud?

He glances up at me. Yep, I said it out loud.

"You know what? I have no clue. My friend caught me off guard. He asked if I was busy tonight. I said no. Now here I am. Do you have any suggestions for something to take to a party that I have no interest in attending or getting set up for?" He grins at me, and the ice around my lonely cold heart melts.

I pull my eyes away from his and look back down into my case. "You can't go wrong with an assortment of cookies. Would you like to try some?"

"I would love to, but I always drink coffee with my cookies." His crystal blue eyes twinkle with amusement.

"I... I have coffee." I stumble on my words and feel the all too familiar heat blaze its way up my neck and settle into my cheeks. I now wish that I had left the flour scattered across my face to camouflage my blush.

"Will you join me?" He doesn't give me any indication that he noticed my embarrassment.

"Yeah, sure. Do you mind if I lock my door?"

He raises his eyebrows, "I don't mind at all." His teasing smirk causes my heart to skip a beat.

I go lock the door, turn over my sign to close, return to the counter to select an assortment of cookies, and pour us both a cup of steaming hot coffee. The good-looking stranger follows me to a clean table. I set down the plate of cookies and coffee then grab some cream and sweeteners to place onto the table. He pulls out my chair, waits for me to sit, then takes his seat.

For a moment, we say nothing. It's not an awkward silence, which surprises me. I offer the captivating man the plate of cookies. His furrowed brows fascinate me as he contemplates his options. After several minutes, he finally selects a reindeer.

"Do you always weigh your cookie choices before making a decision?" I laugh.

"Always." He looks deep into my eyes, and my laugh dies in my throat. Damn!

He quickly recovers. "So, how long have you worked here?"

"I opened my shop up about five years ago..." I stop there, not wanting to go further with my explanation.

His face gets serious. "It sounds like there's more to that story."

I don't elaborate.

He bites off the reindeer's antlers. "Mmmm... do I taste a hint of nutmeg?"

"Yes, you do. I'm impressed." I am.

He chases it down with a sip of coffee. "So good. How does this coffee taste so fresh at closing time?"

"My final customers were doing some last-minute Christmas shopping and stopped in for pastries and coffee. The coffee was too low, so I made a fresh pot."

"Lucky me. Very, very lucky me." His sincere smile induces a feeling of warmth that surrounds me as if he pulled me into a comfortable embrace.

Damn woman, he's talking about the coffee. Get a hold of yourself.

"So, you've been here for five years? How have I missed this place before tonight?" He asks as he looks around my bakery. "It's very nice. I like how you incorporated the antique metal tin signs of throwback bakery items into your decor. The use of red and white gingham is extremely bright and cheery, and these old ice cream shop tables and chairs add the perfect touch."

I smile at his description of my shop. "Wow. You're quite observant."

"I am," he admits proudly as he jokingly puffs out his chest.

I can't hold back the chuckle that escapes my throat.

Ignoring my antics and looking genuinely curious, he continues. "So, what made you buy a bakery?"

His phone rings, giving me a moment to regain control. He takes it out, and looks at it briefly before I notice him turning it off.

"Do you have to go?" I ask, berating myself for hoping that he doesn't want to leave. "I can box up some cookies for you."

"No. I mean unless you have to be somewhere." He shyly looks down at the table while fiddling around with his watch.

I snicker. "Me? I have nowhere to be, absolutely nowhere."

He raises his brow with surprise and lifts his eyes. "Family?"

I pull my eyes away from his intense gaze. "Only child, parents passed away ten years ago in a car accident."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you, but I'm good." I give him a reassuring smile.

"Boyfriend?"

I can't place the look on his face. Hope?

"No. No boyfriend." I grin when he smiles brightly at my answer.

His smiling face twists into a cute quizzical expression, "Friends?"

Rolling my eyes, "Yes, I have friends," I deadpan. "They're all coupled up and spending their holiday with family; it's no big deal. I take Christmas day to recover from the insane busyness of the last two months. My Christmas is forgotten; it's just another day," I shrug. "How about you? I know that you have plans tonight. Are you spending tomorrow with your family?"

He ignores my question about his family, bites the head off of his reindeer, and once again chases it with his black coffee. "The only place that I plan to be is right here with you till you want me to leave."

"What about your friend's party?" I ask instead of begging him to stay like I want to do.

"The party? I never had any interest in going. I'm right where I want to be. By the way, thank you for saving me from that whole thing." He laughs and finishes off his reindeer, then chooses a Santa. Off goes his hat.

I smile. "Are you sure that you don't feel sorry for the poor baker?" I joke.

He places his hand on his chest. "Me, feel sorry for you?" He looks around my bakery. "You are surrounded by delicious treats all day. You got it good, girl."

His comment makes my heart sing. He's right; I do have it good.

"Tell me about your family," I'm seriously interested.

"Not much to tell. I have an older brother who serves in the military. He's currently serving overseas. My younger sister is a spoiled little princess, and I'm the proverbial invisible middle child. If I don't show up tomorrow for the festivities, they won't even notice that I'm missing." He laughs, but I can see the pain in his eyes.

He turns the conversation back to me. "So, you were just about to tell me how you ended up owning a bakery."

"Was I?"

"Yes, you were." He assures me.

I get up and refill both of our coffees. He picks up a sleigh when I return. I place his coffee on the table and retake my seat across from him.

"It's kind of a long story. Are you sure that you want to sit through it?" I give him an out.

He doesn't take it. "I thought we've been through that. You're now my plans for this evening."

I can't deny the instant attraction I have to this man. I take a deep breath. Am I ready to talk about this? I look at the handsome man across from me and think, what the hell?

"Exactly six years ago tonight, I lost the love of my life. We had only been married for three months. My husband, Brad, was doing some last-minute shopping for my Christmas gifts. He was at his last stop of the night when an armed robber took over the store. Brad died protecting a woman and her child." I pause to gauge his reaction. The stranger that sits before me is listening intently to my story, so I continue.

"My dream was to own a bakery. I've always loved baking and worked for a baker all through culinary school. Sam taught me more working by his side than all of my schooling." I smile, remembering my time with Sam.

"Brad knew about my dream of owning a bakery. He left me money in a small life insurance policy. When his lawyer read his will to me, the only words that my husband penned to me were, 'Follow Your Dreams.' So I did." I look down as tears fill my eyes. I feel the man's hand gently lift my chin back up to look into his mesmerizing eyes. An unexpected shiver travels down my spine.

His eyes swell with tears. "I'm so sorry for your loss. I, too, experienced a great loss of love in my life."

"Tell me," I breathe.

He clears his throat nervously, "Three years ago, my girl and I were driving to the mountains to spend the holiday skiing. The snow was coming down so thick that I couldn't see two feet in front of me. I was crawling up the mountain. She had begged me to turn around, but I was determined to spend our Christmas with just the two of us."

His voice trails away as his tear-filled eyes dip down, avoiding my gaze. I give him a moment to regain his composure. When his ocean blue eyes once again find mine, I nod, encouraging him to continue.

"We made it to the cabin. Can you believe it? We made it through the scary part of the trip, and we were so excited to ski the fresh powder Christmas morning. We were up bright and early. She had made a huge breakfast before we hit the slopes. On our second pass, she lost control and hit a tree. She died on impact." Tears escape his eyes, and my own heart breaks for him and his loss. As my tears fall freely, I place my hand over his. He clutches my hand tightly as if it was his only lifeline, and we stay quiet for several moments.

"Wow, I haven't talked about this, well, since it happened three years ago," he admits breaking the silence.

"Yeah, it's not a subject that I like to talk about either." We look at each other with total understanding. I glance down and see his hand still grasping mine. I smile.

I try desperately to change the subject. "You know what I do for a living. What about you?"

He grins, knowing what my intentions are. "I work about six blocks from here at the accounting office of Jones and Jones."

My brows lower in question. "Jones and Jones?"

"Have you heard of it?" It's adorable when his forehead wrinkles in curiosity.

I chuckle at the look he's giving me. "Yes, I use that firm for my accounting."

"Cake Walk never crossed my desk."

"I guess not since you didn't even know that I existed before tonight." I smirk playfully.

"That will never happen again." He promises me as his full lips turn up into a flirty smile.

We talk effortlessly throughout the rest of the evening and into the early morning hours. We laugh when several hours later, we realize that we never shared our names.

"I'm Tess."

He grins, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Tess. I'm Gavin."

Our hands have been intertwined since we shared our stories.

"The pleasure is all mine, Gavin."

Gavin's back is towards my glass storefront. With the light of Christmas day, I notice the thick snow falling.

"It's snowing!" I exclaimed, pulling my hand from his and clapping like a small child.

He turns to look out of the window.

I'm in awe of the feather-light flakes dropping from the sky. "It's magical," I gasp.

"It is," he replies breathlessly.

I turn to grin at my newfound friend. My smile slowly drops when I see his ice-blue eyes pierce my own. It's then that I realize that he was talking about me.

He stands and reaches his hand out to me. I take it as our eyes remain transfixed on each other. He walks me to the door, I unlock it, and we step outside into the winter wonderland. He leans in, and I close my eyes, knowing what's coming. He kisses me tenderly, and as he lingers, a pleasurable flutter fills my lonely heart.

"Merry Christmas, Tess. Thank you for saving me," he whispers against my lips.

"It's you that saved me."