Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Playing our parts. Right.”
Mattie sighed inwardly. So all that hot, dirty talk he’d been murmuring in her ear was just part of his act. Well, that was to be expected, she told herself. After all, up until yesterday, she and Grath had practically been mortal enemies. She couldn’t expect him to suddenly change his mind completely about how he felt about her.
Well, there was no time to fret about it now. She had just a few minutes to roll her perfect pecan balls in powdered sugar and get them to the judges table. Already the other contestants were bringing their own cookies forward. Shonda had a plate of perfectly delicious looking orange almost shortbread squares that were studded with slivered almonds and orange zest and drizzled with icing.
And Amanda had sugar cookies that had been shaped into perfect little Christmas trees and gingerbread men and decorated accordingly. They looked nice but Mattie was betting that her pecan balls would taste better. She hoped, anyway.
In short order, she and Grath had all the balls coated thoroughly in powdered sugar and she was able to put them on the special platter with its red and green Christmas wreath that her mom had provided, and bring them up to the judges.
“Very good, Ms. Porter,” Mrs. Kranst said, giving her a nod of stern approval. “I see you were able to work through your difficulties.”
“Yes, er—another contestant gave me some powdered sugar,” Mattie confessed. “I hope that’s all right.”
“As long as it was freely given, it’s not a problem,” Ms. Porter said, nodding. “And thank you for your honesty.”
Feeling like she was back in high school all over again, Mattie nodded and left the stage.
At last time was up and everyone had deposited their cookies. As the doors were opened and the family and friends who had come to see the judging filed in, Mattie took Grath’s big hand and squeezed it in anticipation.
Smiling down at her, he squeezed back.
“Nervous, little girl?” he rumbled.
“A little,” Mattie admitted. “But I know I did my best—no, we did our best,” she corrected herself. “Because I couldn’t have made these without you, Grath—thank you so much.” And, standing on her tiptoes, she managed to kiss his cheek.
Grath put an arm around her and gave her an affectionate squeeze.
“Any time, baby. I love making balls with you.”
Mattie stifled a laugh and then her mom and dad and Anna and Grandma Thelma were crowding up beside her.
“Hey, Ethan says he’s sorry but he had to go into work for a few hours,” Anna said in her ear. “How did they come out?”
“Pretty good, despite everything,” Mattie told her.
“Did you have everything you needed?” her mom asked anxiously, leaning around Anna to talk. “I tried to think of everything.”
“You did great, Mom. Though I’m afraid your food processor is missing,” Mattie said apologetically. “I’ll have to buy you a new one.”
“Buy me a new one? What in the world happened to it?” her mom demanded.
But at that moment someone on the stage tapped the microphone and the gray-haired woman who had announced the judges began to speak.
“Thank you all for coming to the judging of our annual Christmasville Christmas Cookie Bake-off,” she said, smiling at the assembled crowd. “Now, as usual, we will call each contestant by name and when they come to stand on the stage, the judges will taste their cookies and give their opinions and their scores. Then the contestants will step to the side while the judges tabulate the numbers to decide the winner.”
“Okay, here goes!” Mattie whispered to Grath. The big Hybrid gave her a wink and squeezed her hand again.
“If your cookies don’t win, it won’t be for lack of trying,” he murmured. “But I have a feeling we have the winning balls.”
Mattie stifled a nervous giggle.
“I sure hope so!”
And then the announcer started calling contestants on stage.
They were called up by number so Mattie had to wait through eight other bakers before her own name was called. The girl at table eight—Shonda—got very high marks for her almond orange shortbread. Mr. Carmichael gave it a nine and called it, “melt in your mouth delicious” and Mrs. Owens gave it an eight point five and said it was “scrumptious.” Mrs. Kranst, unsurprisingly, was the strictest judge. “I find these more than acceptable. Seven point five,” she said, nodding her head.
Shonda stepped to one side, looking extremely pleased with her scores—as well she should—they were the highest so far, Mattie thought. Even Mrs. Nelson’s Cranberry Clouds hadn’t outscored them.
And then the announcer was calling out her name and Mattie felt her stomach fill with butterflies as she approached the stage.
“Come with me,” she whispered over her shoulder to Grath. “Come on—you made these as much as I did!”
“No, you go ahead—it’s your time to shine, baby,” Grath told her. He gave her a little push at the small of her back. “So go shine.”