by Wendy Knight
“Gotta relive my glory days,” he said with a grin.
She leaned a hip against the counter. “Okay, Mr. Popularity. Show me what’cha got.”
He paid the teenage boy behind the counter and took the offered football. “You get three chances,” the boy said monotonously. He seemed less than thrilled, judging by his tone, probably because of his horrible attempt at a Swiss costume—something no Swiss had ever come close to wearing, Kayne was sure—and his fake accent. He barely glanced at Kayne, but his eyes widened when he caught sight of Cleo.
Kayne understood exactly how he felt.
He stepped back several paces and aimed, throwing the football easily at the tire. It hit the rubber and bounced wildly away, flinging end over end back at Cleo, who caught it with a surprised squeak. “He was a tight end,” she told the boy, winking at Kayne as she tossed him back the football. “And it was a really long time ago.”
“It was not so long ago,” Kayne grumbled. It was probably nerves more than anything. Cleo watching him with those bright eyes, her full lips quirked up in a smile, made it ridiculously hard to focus on the tire.
He threw it again, and the football just glanced off the inside of the tire and flung itself backward. The boy caught it and handed it back to Cleo with a smug grin. Cleo brought it to Kayne, leaning close. “These are rigged, you know. You can’t win.”
“But—but it’s football,” Kayne said lamely.
She patted his arm. “Give it another try. You’ve got this.”
He thought about pointing out that she’d just told him he couldn’t win, but that seemed counterproductive when she had so much faith in him.
Kayne aimed, narrowing his eyes in concentration, but all he could see was the way her eyes had lit up when she’d seen that unicorn. He couldn’t let her down.
The ball sailed from his hand and through the tire, hit the back, and almost bounced out. By sheer force of will, Kayne commanded it to go back in.
It worked. Desperation for the win!
Cleo squealed, raising her arms up in victory. The boy grudgingly handed Kayne the giant unicorn, and Kayne presented it to Cleo like a battle trophy. “Really? You don’t want it?” she gasped, hugging it tight to her chest even though it was nearly as big as she was.
Kayne gave her a look. “I have three brothers, Cleo. I definitely cannot bring home a giant unicorn or I will never live it down.”
She threw her arms around his neck, unicorn squashed between them. “Thank you!”
Kayne had won a lot of football games. He’d scored winning touchdowns. His equation had won his school math bowl. And yet he’d never felt like such a hero as he did at that moment.
“Come on.” He released her reluctantly, motioning toward the Ferris wheel. “I owe you a ride.”
“I… I mean, the unicorn is probably afraid of heights and thinks maybe we should skip the Ferris wheel.” Her cheeks colored and she grinned sheepishly down at the ground. “Unicorns only go high if they have wings, you know.”
“Wait a second, Ms. Klausse. Are you telling me that you—who climbs trees like a monkey if a cat is in danger and even risked your life to save a bird—are afraid of heights?”
Cleo held up a hand. “Of course not. I am only thinking of the unicorn.”
Kayne nodded gravely. “Of course. What would the unicorn like to do?”
Cleo laughed brightly. “It’s a stuffed animal, Kayne. It doesn’t have preferences. I, however,” she said quickly when Kayne opened his mouth to object, “would love some hot chocolate. My fingers are freezing. And maybe not smelling like a skunk would be fabulous too.”
“The hot chocolate I can do. The skunk thing… not so much.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cleo finally made it back to the dress shop the next morning. The skunk smell had faded enough that she felt relatively comfortable going out in public and only caught an occasional whiff every now and then. She got up extra early so she could get there right as the store opened, and the roads were practically empty. It was a peaceful drive that gave her way too much time to think.
She was done with classes for the semester, so they couldn’t distract her. During the school year, she worked long hours tutoring other students, but they were done with their finals the same time she was, so she also had no job to turn her thoughts to. She did have the royalty pageant and the sanctuary, but both of those tied too closely to what she was doing her best not to obsess over.
Or who, actually. Not what.
Kayne Frost.
He’d been in her life since they were just out of diapers, with barely concealed vehemence a constant companion between the two of them. In high school they’d been more like hostile acquaintances. But somewhere between there and here, they’d become friends.
And she valued his friendship. When she’d panicked about the parade, he’d been the first person she’d gone to. When Malen had tried to attack her with the skunk comments, Kayne had stood up for her.
And then the kiss.
The kiss had changed everything.
She hadn’t been able to think of anything else but him ever since. She’d slept with the unicorn even though it had taken up what little space on the bed Mozzie had left her. He’d been the first thing on her mind when she’d opened her eyes and the whole time she’d walked Mozzie and run him through his exercises, he’d been right there. And now, she could only wonder if Kayne would like the dress she’d picked out. It wasn’t her dream dress, but it was still beautiful. Hopefully he would like it.
Cleo closed her eyes briefly. Since when did she care what Kayne Frost?
Actually, she remembered once in high school, at either Homecoming or Prom, she couldn’t remember which, that Kayne had said he liked her dress and she’d lit up like a Christmas tree for the rest of the night because of the compliment. So apparently she’d cared what Kayne Frost thought for a lot longer than she’d realized.
“Can I help you?” a woman asked and Cleo’s eyes flew open, realizing belatedly that she was standing in the door of the dress shop with her eyes closed like an idiot.
“Yes,” Cleo said too brightly, trying to make up for her awkwardness. “I was in here the other day and had picked out a dress but got called away. I’m just here to pick it up.”
“Ah, okay then. Which dress did you have in mind?” It wasn’t the same woman as before but seemed just as capable of ringing up a dress. Cleo left her standing behind the counter and hurried to where she’d hidden the dress between the two red ones.
It wasn’t there.
Cleo’s heart sank as she dug through dress after dress, searching for the ice blue one Kate had found her. But no matter how hard she looked, it wasn’t there.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice smaller and sadder than she’d intended. “Have you maybe sold a light, light blue dress in the past day? It’s so light blue it’s almost white and it’s fitted at the waist and kind of a poufy skirt?”
“Yes,” the woman said gently. “I’m afraid we sold that. But we have several others in your size that would look just lovely on you.”
Cleo fought tears, which was stupid. What point was there to cry over a dress? “Do you happen to have anything else in that color?”
They spent the next hour looking, but nothing even came close. The other blues were too bright, and the whites were too white, and Cleo couldn’t find a single thing that made her even half as happy as the almost-dream-dress. The woman, whose name was Cassandra, was so helpful and so patient, and Cleo was about to just pick anything just to make her happy, when her phone buzzed.
It was Red. For perhaps the first time ever, Cleo groaned. She didn’t have time for an animal emergency. Usually, they had one or two rescues a month. Sometimes they went to the city to help the bigger rescue foundations. But now? In the last week they’d had a rescue every single day, sometimes more than one. It was getting ridiculous.
“Cow emergency. Are you available?”
Cleo frow
ned at her phone. “I have a cow emergency.”
The woman gaped at her. “Excuse me?”
Cleo couldn’t help but laugh, just a little, at her own statement or maybe it was just the state of her life. “That’s all I know. Can I just get…” She didn’t care. She really didn’t. Without the dream dress, it didn’t matter. She pointed at a random yellow dress that she remembered being one of the least expensive. She wasn’t even sure yellow was her color. “That one?”
She hurried all the way back to Huckleberry Falls, fighting tears the entire time. It was just a dress. Just a stupid dress for a stupid ball and it didn’t even matter because Kayne was just escorting her to be nice.
And still, she cried.
Her phone buzzed just as she pulled into the sanctuary’s parking lot. It was Kayne, and her dumb heart fluttered in her chest like he could possibly be interested in a nobody like her.
“There are eight cows, fyi.”
“Eight!” Cleo screeched, momentarily distracted from her own wallowing. “The Twelve Days of Christmas lives on!”
Mrs. Stradley tapped on her window. “Are you okay, dear?”
Blushing furiously at being caught in her solo celebration, Cleo pushed the door open. “No. I mean yes, I’m fine,” she said at Mrs. Stradley’s alarmed look. She tromped through the snow into the offices. “I just—I’m like the red-headed step-child of Huckleberry Falls, Mrs. Stradley. And I don’t have a dress. I mean, I had a dress. It wasn’t my dream dress, but it was close, you know? It was the right color and it was pretty enough. Kayne probably would have liked it. But then I had to rescue skunks, and then I smelled like a skunk and had to be in a parade and Kayne kissed me, Mrs. Stradley. And when I got back to the dress shop, the dress was gone and there is nothing even similar and the ball is in three days and I don’t have a dress now and I have to go rescue cows and—” she stopped short, staring at her desk, which was always meticulously neat. She always put everything back in its place because her life was chaotic enough without a messy desk. “—and someone stole my stapler!” she wailed, because the stapler that always sat on the right corner of her desk was gone.
Mrs. Stradley took several seconds to form a coherent thought, her mouth working helplessly. “First, dear, why don’t you sit down?”
“I have to go rescue cows,” Cleo sobbed. “Without a stapler.” She sank into her chair, dropping her elbows to her desk and her head to her palms.
“I’ll get you some hot chocolate. That will help.” Mrs. Stradley bustled around the cramped office they all shared. Cleo was the only one who had her own desk. Red and Greyson shared the main office down the hall and the rest of the volunteers shared a couple of desks in Cleo’s office. They had a coffeemaker and a hot chocolate machine that someone from town had donated during a fundraiser for the sanctuary, and Mrs. Stradley made good use of it now. “The cows are under control and back in their pasture. Red didn’t even have to bring them back here. Funny how so many in the village think we’re here to rescue their pets. We’re not firemen, for goodness sake.”
Cleo smiled in spite of herself.
“And I took your stapler. Mine broke and I had to get some paperwork put together and ready for Red to submit. It’s right here.” She laid it gently back on Cleo’s desk.
Cleo sighed. She’d come all the way back to Huckleberry Falls and hadn’t even been needed. Absently, she pushed her stapler back to its place.
“So, Kayne was telling me you have a Twelve Days of Christmas thing going on.” Mrs. Stradley leaned a hip on the corner of Cleo’s desk.
“I don’t have it going on,” Cleo said. “It’s just happening. First it was the partridge in the pine tree, then two huskies, then three ferrets and—”
“I see,” Mrs. Stradley pursed her lips, trying to hide a smile, but Cleo saw right through it.
“I’m serious, it’s actually a thing. Today is the eighth day of Christmas and what are Kayne and Red rescuing right now? Cows, Mrs. Stradley. Eight cows.” Cleo blew on her hot chocolate, watching the steam swirl around in the cooler office air. “Tomorrow will be nine of something, just you watch. How did you know?”
“Kayne was telling us about it this morning. He said he thought it was ridiculous at first, but you’d made a believer out of him.”
“Well, I didn’t. The universe did, sending us all these animals.”
Kayne paced in front of his family, who were all perched obediently on the couch. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but forget about it. I have my own plans.”
“Yeah, and they’re going so well.” Reuben leaned back against the cushions, head behind his hands. “You’ve been working on these plans for what—fifteen years? In another five maybe something will happen.”
Kayne scowled. “It isn’t like that.”
“Kayne,” his mother said gently. “You told me that you missed her… what did he say?” she asked his father, frowning. “Oh, right. Her snark. You said you missed her snark while you were away at school. You told me that clear back in September. You told me in April that none of the girls were as feisty as her in Arizona. But you do nothing, tell her nothing. She needs to know, Kayne.”
“If she knows,” Kayne said, stopping to straighten the magazines on the coffee table, “she will bolt. Because she thinks we’re not even friends. She calls me her frenemy. Frenemies don’t stay when they find out one of them is—”
“In loooove,” Jayden crooned.
“—interested,” Kayne scowled. “—in the other one. I have to get her to like me as a friend first if I want a shot at this.”
“We will be on our best behavior,” Wayne promised. “Won’t we?”
Glacier, lying near the couch on her big fluffy pink bed Casey had bought her, because she couldn’t get up on the couch, thumped her tail in agreement. She’d put on enough weight in the few days she’d been with them that only a few of her ribs were visible, and her spine hardly at all. She wagged her tail and always tried to raise her head in greeting, but sometimes was still too weak. Stacey had said she was progressing nicely though, and her wounds were all healing well. Glacier didn’t like to walk much because of the frostbite on her paws, so Kayne’s brothers fought over who got to pull her outside in the special wagon Jayden had made for her.
Spoiled didn’t even begin to cover it.
His phone beeped and Kayne pulled it out of his pocket, already fearing what it would say.
She was canceling.
Of course, she was canceling. She didn’t really like him. She tolerated him because they shared a similar passion.
“Are you sure Mozzie is okay to come? His head is currently trapped in my garbage can lid.”
Kayne burst out laughing and showed his family, because it was obviously something that had to be shared. “Yes. Bring Mozzie. I’ll help with the lid. That’s what I do.”
“Okay but you’ve been warned. I’ll be there soon.”
“See? She’s coming to you with her dog trouble. It’s true love.” Casey snickered, dodging away from Kayne’s half-hearted attempt to hit him. Kayne settled on the couch in the space Casey had just vacated, intending to hang out on Instagram until she got there.
He made it a couple of minutes before he was up and pacing again so his mother sent him to the kitchen to help cook like she had a thousand other times while he was growing up. It had paid off—Kayne was a pretty adept and his college roommates begged him to cook every night, but he had his limits. Only his mom had the authority to send him to the kitchen on a regular basis.
The knock at the door wasn’t quite a knock. It was a half-knock, half-scrape and slide that ended in a thump. His family all looked at Kayne, alarmed, and Kayne jogged from the kitchen to the door, swinging it open just as Mozzie tried to break it down. He lunged through like the hounds of hell were at his heels, dragging Cleo behind. She squeaked, as she was yanked off her feet and literally flew through the air behind the big husky who was putting on weight a lot quicker than Glaci
er was. Chaos erupted as Mozzie dove for the kitchen table and the feast Amaya had set out.
He still had the garbage can lid on his head.
Kayne grabbed Cleo to keep her on her feet and somehow, she kept her grip on the leash, hauling Mozzie to a stop at the very last second. “Mozzie, enough,” she snarled and Mozzie sat abruptly, looking up at Cleo as his tail thumped the ground. Cleo stared at him in surprise, her mouth hanging open in shock. “He’s never listened before,” she whispered as if afraid to break the spell.
Kayne’s family stood in various frozen poses around the table. Kayne cracked a smile, and then Jayden started laughing. In seconds, the room had dissolved in laughter, with Mozzie looking on in confusion.
Glacier woofed quietly, drawing Mozzie’s attention. Keeping the leash short, Cleo led Mozzie to Glacier’s side. Jayden and Reuben knelt on each side of the still-healing pup in case Mozzie got too rough, but he was the most perfect of gentlemen, his tail wagging happily while he gently sniffed and nudged Glacier.
He’d been her protector, and they knew that. Kayne wasn’t sure why they thought he’d hurt her now. With perfect contentment, Mozzie circled around Glacier a few times and then lay next to her so Glacier could rest her head on his side.
Cleo put her hand to her mouth, tears swimming in her eyes. “Isn’t that the sweetest thing.” It wasn’t a question, so Kayne didn’t answer it.
But yes, yes it was.
“Cleo, dear, sit down, sit down,” Amaya ushered her to the table. “Sit by me so I can have some female companionship.”
Cleo smiled and took her seat as she complimented Amaya and Wayne on their beautiful home and well-mannered boys. She raved about the food and had his entire family wrapped around her finger before they’d even finished appetizers.
If she hung around much, she’d be as spoiled as Glacier.
“So, Cleo, what are your plans for Christmas,” Amaya asked as she passed the lasagna. “Are your parents coming back?”
