The first snow of the season blanketed Evergreen like a scene out of a Christmas postcard. White powder covered the rooftops, dusted the evergreens lining the cobblestone streets, and transformed the town square into a winter wonderland. Twinkling fairy lights wrapped around lampposts, and the scent of cinnamon and pine filled the crisp air. For the townsfolk, it was the most magical time of the year. For Lucas Hale, it was just another business trip.
Lucas gripped the steering wheel of his sleek black SUV, his jaw tightening as his tires crunched over the snow-packed road. He checked the GPS on his dashboard for the fifth time in as many minutes.
"Turn right onto Holly Lane," the robotic voice instructed.
He sighed. "Holly Lane. Of course it is," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
The town seemed determined to suffocate him in holiday cheer. Every corner he turned, another reminder of Christmas mocked his presence—a family hauling a fresh-cut tree, a group of carolers harmonizing near a church, a cheerful snowman with a bright red scarf grinning at him from the town square.
Lucas wasn't here for nostalgia or holiday spirit. He was here to close a deal, and time was running out. His company had big plans to modernize Evergreen's historic district, turning it into a sleek shopping plaza that would attract tourists and drive up profits. But one stubborn business owner was standing in his way.
Emma Frost.
Her name was as festive as the town itself. She owned *Frosted Dreams Bakery*, the quaint little shop smack in the middle of the proposed development site. According to his reports, Emma had declined every offer his team had made. She refused to sell, claiming the bakery was "irreplaceable."
Lucas scoffed. Everyone had a price.
As he pulled into the town square, the SUV's tires skidded slightly on the icy road, and he cursed under his breath. He parked near a candy-cane-striped bench and stepped out into the cold. The moment his Italian leather shoes touched the snow, he regretted not opting for something more practical.
"Excuse me, sir!"
Lucas turned to see a young boy in a puffy coat holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa.
"Would you like to buy a cup? It's for the town's Christmas charity!"
Lucas offered a tight smile. "No, thank you."
The boy frowned but quickly recovered. "Merry Christmas!" he chirped before running off to his next target.
Lucas rolled his eyes and adjusted his wool coat. He scanned the square until he spotted the bakery, its frosted windows glowing warmly in the fading afternoon light. The sign above the door was adorned with painted snowflakes, and the words *Frosted Dreams Bakery* were written in elegant script.
Taking a deep breath, Lucas pushed open the door.
The scent of sugar, cinnamon, and freshly baked bread enveloped him immediately. The interior was cozy, with rustic wooden tables, twinkling string lights, and garlands draped across the ceiling beams. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, its ornaments glinting in the soft glow of the bakery's lights.
Behind the counter stood a woman with auburn hair pulled into a messy bun, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the ovens. She wore a red apron dusted with flour and a warm, welcoming smile—until she saw him.
"Lucas Hale, I presume," she said, her smile fading into a guarded expression.
Lucas straightened, extending a hand. "Emma Frost. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Emma didn't take his hand. Instead, she wiped her own on a towel and crossed her arms. "I'd say the same, but I'd be lying."
Lucas's mouth twitched. He wasn't used to people being so direct. "I'll cut to the chase," he said, lowering his hand. "I'm here to discuss the sale of your bakery. I believe my team has already presented you with a very generous offer."
Emma raised an eyebrow. "You mean the offer to bulldoze my bakery and replace it with a chain coffee shop? Yeah, I've seen it. And my answer is still no."
Lucas exhaled slowly, fighting to keep his composure. "Ms. Frost, I understand this bakery has sentimental value, but this project will bring significant economic growth to Evergreen. Imagine the jobs it will create, the tourists it will attract—"
"I'm not interested in your sales pitch," Emma interrupted. "This bakery isn't just a business. It's my home. It's my mother's legacy. And it's not for sale."
Her voice was firm, but there was a flicker of emotion in her eyes. Lucas caught it and filed it away. Everyone had a weakness, and he intended to find hers.
Before he could respond, the bell above the door jingled, and a flurry of snow swept into the bakery along with a gaggle of laughing children. Emma's demeanor instantly softened as she greeted her new customers.
Lucas stepped aside, watching as she handed out cookies and cocoa with the ease of someone who truly loved what she did. The children's laughter filled the small space, and for a moment, Lucas felt like an outsider in a scene that didn't belong to him.
When the rush subsided, Emma turned back to him. "Look, Mr. Hale," she said, her tone less sharp but no less resolute. "You can stay and enjoy a gingerbread cookie if you'd like, but if you're here to talk business, you're wasting your time."
Lucas's lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't give up that easily, Ms. Frost."
Emma smiled sweetly, though her eyes were full of defiance. "Neither do I."
---
The snowstorm started just as Lucas stepped outside the bakery. Thick flakes fell from the sky, quickly covering the ground in a fresh layer of white. He glanced up at the darkening sky and muttered a curse.
By the time he reached his SUV, it was clear the storm wasn't letting up. The roads were already becoming treacherous, and his GPS warned of closures ahead.
"Perfect," he grumbled.
He checked his phone for accommodations, but the town's only inn was fully booked for the holidays. Frustrated, Lucas leaned against his car, watching as the snow continued to fall. The warm glow of the bakery caught his eye, and before he could overthink it, he found himself walking back to the door.
Emma looked up from the counter as the bell jingled again. Her eyes narrowed. "Forget something?"
Lucas hesitated, his pride warring with practicality. "It seems I'm stranded. The roads are closed, and there's no room at the inn."
Emma tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "And you think I'm going to offer you a place to stay?"
"Do you know anyone else in this town who might?" he asked, his tone sharp with irritation.
Emma studied him for a long moment before letting out a sigh. "You're lucky it's Christmas."
Lucas frowned. "Does that mean—"
"It means you can stay in my guest room. But don't expect me to roll out the red carpet," she said, already grabbing her coat from the hook by the door. "And you'd better not touch my recipes."
Lucas allowed himself a small smile as he followed her out into the snow. This was far from the outcome he'd planned, but it might just give him the opportunity he needed to change her mind.
And maybe, just maybe, this quaint little town wasn't as unbearable as it seemed.