Christmas Clash (9 page)

“Ya think so, huh? I doubt it.”

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. “Whatever. You know you like it and they
love
you.” She batted her eyes for effect.

She thought she saw a blush start on his cheeks.
I'm getting to him.
She laughed.
Why would he be embarrassed?

“You're blushing,” she stated the obvious.

“I am not.” His smile was wide after he took his drink of coffee.

“Somebody knows he's a ladies' man.” She used a taunting, seventh-grade voice to make her point.

“And you don't know you're in demand, too?” He put his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers, hiding his amusement behind his strong hands.

Candace rolled her eyes. In demand? Heh. Right. Her social calendar overflowed. Not.

“Are you dating anyone?” he asked.

She suddenly felt self-conscious about her social life, or lack thereof. Should she lie? She could make up someone. But what would that accomplish? It would just make her look stupid in the end. People always found out that kind of stuff was a fib. Then she'd have no ground to stand on.

“Nope,”' she finally said.

“Really?” Luke seemed genuinely surprised
.

“Why, did you think I was dating someone? Wouldn't I be out with him?”

“I don't know. Maybe it wasn't that serious yet. I don't know your life,” he said.

“That's right. You don't.” She pointed her fork at him before stabbing a strawberry.

“Then tell me something.” He sat back in his chair.

“Tell you something?”
A challenge, huh? Uh-oh.

“Yeah. Share something with me.”

“Why do you want to know?” This was awkward. Was this how conversations usually went? She hadn't dated in a while. This wasn't a date, but maybe outright questions were how things were done these days. What in the world should she tell him? “I don't know what you don't know about me. I kind of feel like we've known each other forever. You're kind of technically my oldest friend.”

Silence.
Why did I say that?
She should've kept her mouth shut. She didn't like all this attention.

“Then I guess that makes you mine,” he said.

“Really?” Her voice squeaked at the double meaning cloaked in his low tone.

“Why so surprised?”

She could see the amusement in his eyes.
He's enjoying this.

“Don't men keep in contact better than females? Surely you have a friend you've had longer than me.”

He thought for a moment. “Nope. I don't keep in touch with anyone from elementary. Some from junior high and a couple from high school. Your brother is one of those people.”

“I thought you might. He laughed his ass off when he found out I anchored my flower shop right next to The Pub.”

“I bet he did. What did
you
think?” Luke asked.

“I actually didn't realize it was your place when I bought my store.”

“How could you not? You knew my family owned it, right?”

“Of course. I was so blindsided by loving the building and the location, I didn't think to wonder who was in charge of the pub. I didn't know you'd taken over full time.” She shot him a playful look. “Not until Blake laughed so hard he cried. Then the next day I saw you in my doorway and figured out why Blake nearly passed out from laughing. It's really not as funny as he thinks.”

“What do you think about it?”

“It is what it is,” she said.

“I hate that phrase.”

“It is sort of trite, isn't it?”

“Yeah. It's what people say when they're defeated or don't want to share their true feelings. Which is it for you?”

She squirmed in her chair. “I wasn't
thrilled
to know that my place was going to be right next to you. We didn't exactly get along, but now you don't seem as bad as I thought you were in high school.” She tried to chuckle, but it just came out as a huff of air. “I mean, ya know, marginally so.” She winked.

“Oh come on. I wasn't
that
bad.”

“Oh sure, not to others. You and I had our tiffs. You know that.”

“I guess so. It's too bad, really. We could've been good friends, I think.”

“You do?” She didn't stop her puzzlement from showing. Where had his statement come from? Their discussion had become more and more friendly by the moment.
Do I like where this is going?
The flutters in her belly said yes; the cynicism in her head said no.

“Sure. We had the same interests. We still might. Today we both own businesses and we have the same goal now. We can't be too far off,” he said.

“You were always smart in school.”

“Nice to see you noticed.”

“I think you noticed more than I thought. And still do,” she said.

“You might be correct.” He smiled and she diverted her attention. “Ya know, I'm not completely sure what started the arguing.”

“Me either. There weren't that many of us in our graduating class, a couple hundred maybe, and you were the only one I completely clashed with.”

“Too bad we can't change the past.”

Luke's tone sounded all too nice—it wasn't right. They were supposed to be catty and irritating to each other. Now all of a sudden they were nice and flirty? No. This bizarre world she sat in across from him was a lust-filled landmine. She needed to get away.

“When I first saw you next door, do you know what I thought about?” he asked.

“Burning the place down?” She giggled a little too hard at her own joke.

“Not quite.” He stayed still. “When you painted the homecoming float.”

“Oh.” Her smile faded.

“I don't think I ever said I was sorry.”

“Luke Carrigan didn't have to apologize. Other people did it for him.”

She watched her words jab him square in the jaw. He deserved that hit. She'd been head cheerleader and in charge of getting the float ready for the parade their senior year, and boy had she. That sucker sparkled with Casper High colors from the bright red trim to dark purple lettering. She'd had a special interest in the float's glitz since she was set to stand on it all morning and wave as homecoming queen. After the football game, which Luke had a major hand in winning, he and some buddies were screwing around with their vehicles in the school parking lot and her beautiful float had mostly ended up in the passenger seat of Luke's truck after the impact. Everyone had been so relieved all he'd suffered was a concussion, they hadn't cared about the destruction he'd caused. None of it. And, sure, she was happy he wasn't mortally injured, but would it have been too much to ask for him to be held accountable for his hot dogging? All of her hard work had been wasted. Her dad procured fast, shiny cars for her and the rest of the court, including Luke, to sit in and wave during the parade. But for the next month, during their lab time in chemistry, she'd whispered exactly how irresponsible he'd been.

She hadn't thought about the float incident in years, yet tears threatened like they had back then. And just like years ago, she forced herself to remain neutral.

“Ouch. I deserved that. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ruined your float.”

“So maybe I do remember a little more of why we weren't exactly besties.” She bit into her lower lip.

“Yeah.” His chuckle held no humor. “Because at least one of us was an ass.”

She looked to her plate and sighed. Now she really needed to make a break for solitude. “Breakfast was delicious. Thank you. Definitely deserving of the
best
title.”

“You're welcome.”

“What does your day look like tomorrow?”

“Same ol'.”

“I was just thinking of all the orders I was going to get an early jump on …” She let her voice trail so she didn't actually have to ask him to take her home.

“No problem. Let me put these plates in the sink. Then we'll go.”

A strange, thought-maybe-he'd-protest-losing-my-company pang stabbed her chest.
Seems like we're on the same page. Again. For once I wish that weren't a bad thing.

She watched the dark night swallow the buildings in the distance as Luke drove her home. Holiday music played in the late hour on the radio. She swayed in her seat to the beat of Lynyrd Skynyrd's version of “Christmas Time Again” as he pulled up to her house.

“I enjoyed breakfast.” Candace found her clutch and shrugged out of his jacket he'd let her borrow again.

“Good to know.” His arm lay over the steering wheel. “I'm two for two, then.” He winked, and in the dimness of the night his eyes twinkled.

In a flash he was out of the SUV and opening her door.
Gentleman.
She'd have to get her car in the morning. Sophie could pick her up on the way to work—Candace made a mental note to text her before she hopped in the shower in a few hours.

Luke held out his hand and a smile brushed his lips. He'd left his vehicle running, which she didn't think much of, until he spoke.

“Dance with me?” he asked.

It took her a moment to process his barely whispered question. Her arm felt weightless as she slipped her palm in his. Snow started to fall in big flakes as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her light gray house with white shutters.

He took a couple of steps backward, still holding her hand. He didn't bother to close the door and neither did she. Luke studied her like he had during their breakfast, except this time desire reflected at her. She knew her face showed her thoughts. Luke was a sexy grown man and damn if he wasn't charming. Sometimes. Sometimes she still wanted to put him in a chokehold when he challenged her—although those occasions were lessening. But at the moment, she had different moves in mind.

He stopped and pulled her to him as the radio played lyrics about kissing under mistletoe, snow angels, and glowing hearts. He clasped her hand tighter, held it up to his heart, and slid his other arm around her. Instinctively she wrapped her free arm around his waist and slowly swayed to the sweet tune. She'd always loved the song—now she knew she'd never be able to hear it without thinking of the moment Luke danced with her at Christmas time while snow fell lightly around them. Nothing could be more perfect.

Candace leaned her head on his chest and closed her eyes. His scent relaxed her entire body, and the part of her that wondered what the heck she was doing hanging out with Luke friggin' Carrigan had its answer. She liked him. A lot.

Luke jostled slightly and she felt the pressure of his cheek on the top of her head. An onlooker would probably think they danced together in the wee hours of the night all the time. They fit together so nicely and comfortably. She didn't feel awkward or as if he'd invaded her space like she did with other guys she'd actually dated. He evoked a serene feeling, yet at the same time a complicated chaos urged her to grab his face, kiss him, and run for the hills.

As the song closed with words professing Christmas as the favorite time of year, Luke moved back and released her hand. She stifled a groan at the coldness that filled the space between them and straightened. The night was over—time to go back to reality.

Their eyes connected and she felt a heat and link she'd never felt before. She licked her lips.
Kiss me.

He read her mind and closed the small distance between them. Strong hands clasped her face and his lips swept over hers. The light touch of his kiss shut down her mind and every inch of her prickled for his next move. Her breath slowed as his lips met hers again; this time she parted them and his tongue embraced hers.

She moved her hands to his hips, pulling him closer. His lips moved away from hers, brushing one more soft kiss before he took his hands away. She opened her eyes to search his, but he wasn't looking at her. His focus seemed to be on something over her shoulder.
What should I say?
There were always confessions of mistakes or proclamations of love in movies and books after kisses like that. She honestly didn't know which she'd prefer.

Then a grin tugged at his lips. “Good night.” He gently kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulders as he pulled her close, then released her.

“See you tomorrow,” she whispered.

Passion again flickered in his eyes and she knew his thoughts.
It's a shame the night is ending. But it's probably for the best.

“Tomorrow.” He nodded and headed to his SUV that now blared the Chipmunks' rendition of “Jingle Bells.”

Well, hell. She'd said she needed a night out. If she'd known how that would end—she might have gone out years ago.

• • •

Candace hurried across the street the next evening to pick up her sandwich and coffee at Mabel's. Sophie had taken the morning off, but had come in to help with afternoon orders ranging from repotting poinsettias, making wreaths, and filling gold vases.

The clouds were grayish-white and promised snow. She closed her red coat around her chest and made haste to the door.

She couldn't shake her memories of last night. Every look and word she and Luke shared were taking turns parading through her day. The way he'd looked at the club. The way he'd sounded when his lips were by her ear. And the way he moved in the kitchen. All turn-ons. She didn't cook, so watching him put together a tasty breakfast almost counted as foreplay. And then there was the kiss—a perfect mix of respect and need.

She wanted him and lost herself in the moment.
The man has lot going for him.
She couldn't deny Luke was handsome, successful, funny, and handled people well. But good for her didn't make the list. No. She needed someone in her life who exuded a dependable nature and had a structured lifestyle. Luke seemed to have outgrown his wild-child past, but she wasn't completely sold. The truth hit her all at once: She wasn't ready to accept her new friendship with Luke had really taken a turn into the dating world. Not that they were dating. They weren't. They'd kissed. So what? Their lips had collided for one moment in time, not a promise of forever.