Christmas Clash (11 page)

“Me? No. He's too sweet for me.” Sophie's red hair bounced in her high-bound ponytail.

“Sweet? Ha. No.”
Sweet and Luke should not be in the same sentence together.

“Are we talking about the same person? 'Cause he's a doll.”

“We are and he isn't.”

“You two looked like you were having a grand time. What's the problem?”

“He's not my type,” Candace said.

“How so? He seems pretty perfect for you to me. He's funny and so delicious, and he doesn't let you get away with anything. You need that.”

“I do not. I need someone who is nice and caring and not angry all the time.”

“Nice? Ha.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “A little fire in your life would be good for you. Let loose a little. As your friend, I see things you don't.”

As her friend, Sophie should butt out and not play matchmaker. Still, knowing Sophie hadn't asked Luke to her band's performance for her own sake was oddly calming. Realizing Sophie had tried to set her up with Luke made her want to smile. The night had been fun and the kiss had been the best of her life.

Oh man, that was a thought.
Best of my life?

Candace's world had become much too strange. She no longer had a center she trusted. Luke had become a staple in her life—one she currently hadn't seen for a day and a half.

“Find me someone else to date. It's a
pass
on Luke,” Candace said.

“We'll see.” Sophie grabbed their order list for the day off of the front counter and started piling up white roses to tip with sliver glitter and pinecones dusted with gold for a regular client who liked fresh bouquets in their reception area every Monday. “We should Christmas carol this year.” She looked up from the list with excited eyes.

“Caroling? I don't remember the last time I went caroling.”

“Didn't you ever go caroling as a kid? Let's do it this year.”

“Well …”

“I'll get the girls together and we'll have a great time. Friday?” Sophie asked.

“We have the event that day.”

“Saturday?”

“Great,” Candace said.

There was one long weekend ahead of her.

Luke wiped down the counter. Today was the big day. Time to see if all of their hard work would pay off. He'd had the pub professionally cleaned and he stood ready to rock his duties. The media reps would be here in a couple of hours and the festivities started in thirty minutes.

He strolled outside to bright colors, a relatively warm day for December in Wyoming, and his fellow business owners bustling around. He spotted Candace standing between The Pub and Kiss from a Rose. She looked cute in her dark blue jeans and light green pullover with a collar flipped up.
She must be cold.
She had her hair pinned to her neck. He hadn't seen her with her hair pulled up since she purchased the building next door. The curves of her neck called to a space deep down in his soul. He'd gone from tolerating to liking. The hairs on his neck stood up.

Candace Ellison was sexy. Not just pretty and smart and maddening. Sexy. She pulled at more than his gut as she stood with her hands on her hips and one leg bent. Then she rubbed her lips together, calling his attention to her full pink lips. They shimmered in the morning sun and he imagined the berry taste of their first kiss. He automatically headed in her direction. He wanted to taste more berries.

“We all set?” Oh geez, now he used terms like “we” and meant them. The entire pot of coffee in his pub called his name.
It's going to be a long day
. He would need to be on his toes, with Candace and the media.

Misty had cornered him after their interview and he'd apologized for not calling her after their night. Not remembering who he'd kissed was unacceptable. Misty had accepted his apology by asking him out. Not wanting to be an even bigger jerk, he'd agreed to buy her a drink last night. He'd been a gentleman and left their night at one beer. Believing he'd kept their night platonic because he was trying to be a nice person had been easier than admitting it was due to Candace. A notion he now couldn't get away from.

“I think we are good to go …” Candace captured her bottom lip in her teeth.

The subtle action got to him every time. He wanted to feel her lips on his.

“What isn't done?”

She searched his eyes.
What is she looking for?
Whatever she sought, he wanted her to find the answers. He hadn't forgotten about James—maybe she wanted to see if he was still mad. No, mad wasn't the right word—he kept his frustration and hurt hidden.

“It's set up. We have the sleigh rides ready to go, food, coffee, and hot chocolate. The pictures of Casper are displayed in the bookstore for people to see, and Kaye is ready to do free yoga sessions every thirty minutes. The hair salon is offering henna tattoos and an old-fashioned shave for the men. You have the beer, obviously, and the live band is setting up under the tent. And I am giving away free bouquets.”

“You're not doing anything fun. I thought we were all supposed to have stations.”

“That is my station. Sophie is in there. This way I can float and talk to people. Tell them what our cause is all about.” She looked at him and crossed her arms. “Don't you like flowers?”

“I like flowers just fine. Thought you were getting off easy is all.”

“Easy? You think this will be easy?” She grunted. “By the time the sun sets today all I'm going to want is a hot bath and my soft bed. And silence. I like people, but this is going to put me on overload.”

Bath. Naked.
He'd have to get through the day with that picture in mind as he figured out what to do about acknowledging Candace and her sexiness.

“Settle down.” He moved his hands to set on her shoulders. “Everything looks great and everyone knows what to do. I'm sure you'll get all the silence you'll need later.” He returned his hands to his pockets but kept the same close proximity.

“Ah, shoot. I promised Sophie I'd Christmas carol with her tomorrow night. Just acknowledge me with a nod from this point forward.”

“Done. Although, I agreed to caroling tomorrow night, too. So, after that, nod. Check.” He walked away from her quizzical look—he had no answer as to why Sophie had asked and he'd said yes.

The pub was in order. Drinks, mostly beer or soda, were being served and the block was starting to fill. He'd been a little nervous no one would show up and the event would be a total flop, but if this was any indication of how the day would go, then his nerves were unfounded. Soon David would help him fire up the grill outside and they'd serve hamburgers and hot dogs. On warm winter days, Wyomingites took advantage of the outdoors.

This right here was why he was okay staying in Wyoming. Casper was one of the largest cities in the state, but compared to the rest of the country it was small. Hell, the whole population of Wyoming wouldn't make up half of Denver. But today, with people from the community milling around, he really felt the camaraderie. Yeah, they had gathered people here—bribed them really—to get a message out, but it was still nice folks came and wanted to participate in local events.

Candace had made an event, something he thought would take weeks to plan, come together in a matter of days and it was going flawlessly. Luke hadn't really helped at all. And he knew the other business owners did as they were told, too. They didn't push back, which he was thankful for; they all needed her plan to work. Still, since the city council hearing he knew his neighbors were all a little put off by Candace's speech and banter with Jeffrey Dean. If this party didn't work and they didn't get the votes, they would forever blame her. The attack mode she'd been in the night of the council meeting was one he didn't agree with himself. She had more experience with politics and business than he did, but he still couldn't shake a feeling that her words would end up hurting seven businesses. As he started to operate the barbeque station, the reporter from Channel Five approached. Today Misty's blond hair flowed behind her as she walked. The shade of her blue suit accentuated her high cheekbones and arched eyebrows. The cameraman followed behind.

“Good morning, Misty,” he said, thankful she showed up to do the interview after he'd cut their date short. Misty's appearance had been an uncomfortable question mark in his mind.

She extended her hand and he shook it.
Professional. Good.
Her hands were hard, bony, and cold. “We'd like to talk with you on camera.” She positioned herself with the music stage and bouncy castle behind her. “Burt will grab some B-roll, too. Is there anyone else you'd like to have in the interview?”

“Nope. It'll be just me again. I'm the official spokesperson.”

Burt set up a stand for his camera and twisted cords in place. Misty kept her semi-professional streak intact by finding reasons to put her hands on him only twice as she asked him questions about what people could expect when they arrived, how long it would last, and what he wanted to say about their cause. His answers remained the same as when he went on the morning show. She jotted notes in a small black notepad that matched her gloves.

“Want to grab another drink tonight? My place?”

He swallowed and search for the right words.
The woman doesn't give up. I'll give her credit for that.

“I'm sorry, Misty. I can't.”

He looked over her shoulder and spotted Candace painting a little girl's cheek in front of Kaye's yoga studio. Candace nodded at the happy youngster and her new artwork. Suddenly, he was calm and content. He forced himself to pay attention to the pretty woman in front of him.

“I ...”
What are the right words?
“I'm sort of seeing someone else.”
Liar.
He thought he might want to date someone else who was a specific woman.

“Okay.”

She shrugged and he tried not to be hurt that she dismissed him so easily. Then she stepped closer and whispered into his ear, “Call me when
sort of
doesn't work out.” She pivoted and walked toward Burt, who had parts and pieces of equipment scattered in a circle around him.

I'll never understand women.
Then a harrowing thought struck him—he didn't want to understand
all
women. Only one.

• • •

Candace was drawing a butterfly in glittery crayon on a little girl's face when she saw the reporter step up and kiss Luke on the cheek. Startled, she drew an unwanted line on the child's cheek.
Shoot.
She used her thumb to smug the mishap away.

A twinge of jealousy that she was getting way too used to feeling surfaced before she could gather her wits and shoo the green away.
You're being silly.
They'd shared one itty-bitty kiss and it hadn't meant anything—to either of them. She didn't care who Luke dated. He was a big boy. He could do whatever he wanted, and so could she.
I need to call James for that dinner.
Her stomach calmed down.
Get a grip on your life, girl.

“You should go over there,” Mabel prodded, waving toward the interview cameras. “Make sure the right message is getting told.”

“He knows what to say.” Candace didn't make eye contact with Mabel. Even though she controlled her facial expressions, her eyes might betray her.

“Are you sure? You've done such a good job of organizing all of this. I'd hate to see it go down the drain because he can't form a sentence around that tart.”

“Mabel!” Candace giggled before she could stop herself.

“I'm just saying. She's a looker and we don't want him getting tongue tied.”

Tongue tied? Is she
that
pretty?

“All right, Mabel. If you insist.”

Candace finished the butterfly with silver highlights, then hurried over to where the blonde and her cameraman were now set up. They had positioned Luke so the shot would look out over the bustling street of people.
Good choice.
She kept her pace casual and wrapped her arms around herself as she sidled up to Luke.

“Hi.” She outstretched her hand to the reporter.
Be professional. Your family is sort of her employer s
he reminded herself over and over. “I'm Candace. Nice to meet you.”

“Misty. Pleasure, I'm sure.” Misty shook her hand and returned to her cameraman, barely giving Candace the time of day.

Huh. Ain't that somethin'.
Candace turned her attention back to Luke. He looked a little nervous standing there all cute. His hands were in his pockets and his feet shoulder width apart.

“How ya feeling?”

“I got it. You didn't need to check up on me.”

“I'm not checking up on you. I just had a break and saw them setting up and thought I'd pop over,” she lied. “That's all.”

“I don't know why you can't just call in favors since you own the thing.”

“I don't own it,” Candace hushed her voice. Geez, all she needed was the wrong person to overhear this conversation.

“You own what?” Misty's attention focused solely on Candace.

Too late.

“Noth—” Candace started to say before Luke cut her off.

“This is Candace Ellison.”

Misty raised her eyebrows in shock and morphed her surprise face into a welcoming one.
Phony.

“Ms. Ellison. Hello.” Misty gave Candace a proper welcoming—finally.

She hated when people were nice just because of her last name. There was something almost offensive about the change in attitude. She wasn't good enough for the high and mighty reporter before.

The reporter's glance flickered over to Luke. Of course it did. He was damn good looking. What wasn't to like?

“Are you involved in all this?” Misty asked as she waved her gloved hand in a circle pointing behind her to the street and people milling around.