He walked toward her, his large frame making the bakery kitchen feel tiny. When he reached her, he didn't pick up a spatula. Instead, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her jaw.
The flour on Noelle’s nose was the only thing standing between her and a complete holiday meltdown. As the owner of The Sugared Spatula , she had three hundred gingerbread men to decorate before the town’s Christmas Eve gala, and her piping bag had just exploded. "Need a hand, Little Cookie?"
Noelle’s heart did a somersault. "You’re very bossy for a man who doesn't know how to use a rolling pin."
Silas leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, tasting like sugar and pure intent. "I know exactly what I want for Christmas. And she’s standing right in front of me."
"Silas! You can't be back here," Noelle squeaked, wiping her hands on her apron. "Health codes. And... and I’m a mess."
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Alexa Riley - His Christmas Cookie.pdf Here
He walked toward her, his large frame making the bakery kitchen feel tiny. When he reached her, he didn't pick up a spatula. Instead, he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her jaw.
The flour on Noelle’s nose was the only thing standing between her and a complete holiday meltdown. As the owner of The Sugared Spatula , she had three hundred gingerbread men to decorate before the town’s Christmas Eve gala, and her piping bag had just exploded. "Need a hand, Little Cookie?" Alexa Riley - His Christmas Cookie.pdf
Silas leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, tasting like sugar and pure intent. "I know exactly what I want for Christmas. And she’s standing right in front of me." The flour on Noelle’s nose was the only
"Silas! You can't be back here," Noelle squeaked, wiping her hands on her apron. "Health codes. And... and I’m a mess."
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