Page 42 of A Newport Christmess

“And embarrassing.” The shade of red in her cheeks gave me far too much pleasure.

I positioned the next layer of the tree and dropped it into place. “They were you, Quinn.”

Her mouth quirked to the side. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“It is. I promise. Not that your current posts aren’t full of beautiful images and reels. They are just missing one significant element—you. The Kookie Cook. The girl who would hold tea parties and theme-night bakeoffs.”

Her gaze turned distant. “I’m not even sure I know how to be that girl anymore.”

“You don’t need to be her. You just need to be you. The wonderful, crazy, genuine girl I’m lucky enough to be fake dating.” I winked at her.

She laughed. “For the record, I don’t think we’re officially fake dating yet. You only just got my number.”

“Point duly noted.”

It wasn’t long before I had the tree built and all the branches looking mostly decent. I checked to make sure the lights worked and threw on a few of the ornaments I had. It didn’t look amazing, but it was something. When I finished, I glanced around the room, looking for something else to do. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. But Quinn had already repositioned several of the Christmas decorations to spots around the house that were no longer covered in gingerbread pieces. “I see you fixed my garland,” I said, pointing to the stair banister.

She glanced over her shoulder with a laugh. “Only because you did a terrible job putting it up.”

“Fair.” I moseyed over to the table, studying the familiar house she was currently decorating with an intricate pattern. There was no candy or colors, just the brown of the gingerbread peeking through a lovely frosted design that reminded me of white lace. “That’s the house I grew up in.”

Quinn smiled, keeping her gaze focused on her task. “I’m glad you recognized it.”

I scanned the others. “What cabin is that?”

Her gaze flicked up briefly. “The one where Nikki and Kade met.”

That made sense. I pointed to the next one. “Rosecliff, obviously, and ...” I shook my head. “I also don’t know this one with the pillars.”

“Kade’s family home.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” I knew he’d grown up in a ritzy neighborhood outside of Boston, but I’d never been to the house.

“Nikki wanted each gingerbread centerpiece to represent the places that were most special to them—individually and as a couple.”

I moved behind Quinn’s chair, resting my hands on the back of it and trying not to overthink the gesture that suddenly felt too intimate. I kept them there. Her fluid motions were mesmerizing. She traced designs that she’d baked into the cookie and free-handed swirls and small hearts on the blank surfaces of the gingerbread.

“Did your grandma teach you to make these?”

“My grandma taught me to make a gingerbread house. The recipe is hers for the dough, the sugar-glue, and the royal icing. But her houses were a lot more traditional—you know, with the candy canes and gumdrops? I guess I taught myself the rest of it. Not that it’s anything all that special.”

“Are you kidding? It’s amazing. My mom loved baking, too. She would have been in awe watching you.” Exactly like I was.

Quinn dabbed a bit of frosting to end the section she’d been working on and leaned back in her chair to examine it. “Nikki told me how much your mom loved making gingerbread houses. How much she loved Christmas. It must be hard without her here.”

I was unprepared for the emotion that caught in my throat. “It’s been difficult for all of us. My marriage had just ended, and suddenly, my mom was sick. Really sick. It felt like the world was crumbling down around me. She’d only had the diagnosis a few weeks before ...” I drew in a deep, steadying breath, refusing to get emotional in front of Quinn. “... before she was gone.”

Quinn shifted to one side in the chair so she could look up at me, and her hand settled over mine, her warmth penetrating into the darkest parts of my broken heart.

My next inhale shook, and I swiped a hand over my eyes. “It’s hard to allow myself to remember her when all I feel is grief when I do.”

She said nothing for a minute, her hand still on mine. “I don’t know what it feels like to have lost a parent. I can’t imagine how hard it must be. And I’m sorry. Hopefully, one day, that grief will turn into sweet recollection. And every memory of her will bring you joy, even if it’s still mixed with sadness.”

I gripped her hand in mine, unable to say any more.

She gave a timid smile. “Nikki mentioned you were going to visit your grandma soon?”

Grateful for the subject change to get my emotions in check, I nodded. “My whole family, actually. Julie should arrive in Newport today with her husband and kids, and my dad and Sandra are planning to come as well.”