LITMIR.BIZ

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grasp.

      “Sorry.” With cheeks blazing, Ginger wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she searched the ground.

      He’d forgotten about his thermos but found the silver tube resting against his tire and went for it. She did, too, and they bumped heads.

      Rubbing her forehead, she giggled. The nervous, girlish sound slapped his ears, reminding him that she was too young. “I’m so sorry.”

      “No problem.” He stood, empty-handed. This immediate attraction that flared in him might be a problem. Big problem.

      “I hope it’s not glass inside.”

      “What?” He couldn’t form another word. Ms. Carleton had a way of tying up his tongue.

      “Your thermos. If the center is glass, it’s likely broken.”

      He bent and retrieved his mother’s container and shook it. It rattled like a rice-filled salt shaker. There went his morning coffee. He looked around. “Is there any place I can get a cup of coffee this early?”

      “Not this time of year.” She looked thoughtful a moment and then smiled. She had a beautiful smile. Warm and sunny. “I make a mean cup of spiced chai if you like tea.”

      “I don’t.”

      She shrugged. “The least I can do is fix you a cup of coffee then. I have a single-serving machine inside and there might be some coffee packs left over from my Christmas help if you’re interested.”

      “Yeah, sure.” He followed her and tossed the broken thermos in the outside trash bin.

      She pulled a small bundle of keys from the zippered pocket of her fleece jacket and unlocked the back door. There was one entrance into a small foyer with two doors leading to their respective shops and a flight of stairs up to their apartments above. She flicked on the lights and stepped into the back room of her shop. “In here.”

      The first thing that hit Zach was the pleasant scent of cinnamon and something more subtle but sweet. He scanned the relatively bare shelves with rolls of Christmas-colored wrapping paper and bows and wicker baskets. There was a small table with a couple of chairs shoved against a wall opposite a microwave, half fridge and counter with sink. Magazines littered that table.

      “Your break room?” he asked.

      “And lunch room and basket-making room and office. You name it, this is it. I have a college girl who works for me during the summer months and over Christmas break. She drinks coffee, so there might still be some in here.” She dug into a wire basket of little plastic containers and lined up three, side by side. “Take your pick, mocha or hazelnut flavored and plain.”

      “Plain.”

      He watched while Ginger inserted the container of coffee into the machine. Then she slipped a mug under the spout. She didn’t wear a trace of makeup that he could tell. And she looked about college aged, even though he knew she couldn’t be that young. Maybe midtwenties.

      Still, a baby compared with his thirty-eight years.

      “It’ll take a few minutes to warm up.” She leaned against the counter. “Cream or sugar?”

      “Just black.”

      They fell silent while the coffee machine revved and beeped.

      He nodded toward her store. “Mind if I take a look?”

      “Go ahead. The light’s on the right-side wall.”

      He was already in motion and gave a cursory glance at the racks of spices and huge glass jars of what looked like dried-up twigs and leaves. Decorative tins and teapots lined one wall. The Spice of Life was a nice play on words. Cute. Like the owner.

      “Many of those teapots were made by Sally, the woman who used to own this building.” Ginger stood next to him and offered a cup of steaming, strong-smelling coffee.

      He accepted the mug with a nod and took a deep sip. “I never met Sally. I dealt with her Realtor for the most part.”

      “She’s a super nice old lady. Our shops connect through that sliding glass door.” She pointed at their shared wall that was mostly glass. “Sally and I left it open during business hours. Comes in handy watching each other’s store, and we shared many of the same customers.”

      “Hmm.” Probably a good idea to continue. Especially since he was going it alone until he knew what kind of income he might expect.

      “Well, sorry to push you out, but I really need to get my run in before a chamber staff meeting later this morning. You can return the mug later.”

      He held up his coffee. “Thanks.”

      “Sure. We have an open chamber meeting later this week. You should attend, meet the other merchants and see how we can help support your business in this community.”

      “I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t much for local politics, nor was he good at mingling.

      She gave him a smile that nearly knocked him over. “There’s really good food. The fancy dinner club around the corner is sponsoring it this month. You won’t be sorry.”

      Did she realize the power she wielded with a simple look? “Maybe.”

      “I’ll hold you to that.”

      “Uh, yeah.” He made his escape before he said something stupid.

      Ginger Carleton was cheerful with tart-sweetness rolled into one attractive package. Not that he’d ask her out. Dating his tenant would be completely inappropriate, like dating a woman under his command. And he was tired of seeing people under his command damaged—or worse. Not to mention that she was too young for him and better kept off-limits. Way off-limits.

      * * *

      “Well, Ginger, what do you think? Can you get the merchants on board?” Brady Wilson, the chamber president, waited for her response.

      Ginger leaned back in her chair. The scowling face of Captain Zach came to mind, but she pushed that image aside. As liaison between the merchants and the chamber, it was her job to rally the troops, so to speak. “I don’t know. I mean, other than the slight chance of our town being highlighted in the statewide tourism campaign, what’s in it for them?”

      Or her, for that matter.

      Decorating specifically for Valentine’s Day was an expense she hadn’t planned for. She had a few things, everyone did, but a big storefront display contest meant going all out. Something everyone did at Christmas. She couldn’t afford to buy new stuff to do that. She could barely afford to restock her inventory.

      “We could award prizes,” the chamber secretary offered.

      They’d done that for their Christmas Shopper’s Walk. Ginger had heard several complaints that the judging was biased. The same couple of businesses won every year regardless of the decorations used.

      Ginger bounced the eraser top of her pencil against her notepad. “One prize, a really good one, and the judging should come from the community. Something they can be part of, like maybe anonymous online voting on the chamber website.”

      Brady narrowed his eyes. “We’ve already paid for our statewide advertising. That could be the grand prize. A year’s worth of advertising across the state, as long as the Maple Springs Chamber of Commerce is somehow listed, too.”

      Ginger’s mouth watered. She could barely afford to advertise, and then only with a few local print runs. Statewide exposure was definitely a grand prize. At least, it was for her. It might make a difference in her online sales, maybe even her summertime foot traffic.

      “I like it!” Ginger finally said.

      Brady clapped his hands together once. “Then let’s get moving.”

      The sound startled the treasurer, who’d nodded off during the meeting.

      “I’ll

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