But we’re in my office alone for only a couple of minutes before the door bursts open and Victoria walks inside, settling herself against the edge of my desk and facing Candice.
“I think I know how we can help you,” she says, shooting me a quick look over her shoulder before she returns her attention to Candice.
“What do you mean?” There’s a sheen to Candice’s eyes I don’t like. It means she’s this close to losing it, and she’d only just started telling me how no one she knows can find a place to have this party before Victoria busted in.
“I know where you can have your party this Saturday night.” Victoria hesitates for only a moment before she announces, “Here!”
“What? Really?” Candice screams at the same time I say, “Absolutely not.”
They’re both glaring at me now.
“What? It’s a terrible idea,” I say, trying my best to ignore the hurt look on Candice’s face, but come on. “We’re running a business here, Vic. Saturday is going to be one of our busiest days.”
“You always say it’s one of the busiest days,” Candice points out.
“Yeah, you do,” Victoria agrees.
Great. Now they’re both going to gang up on me.
“Listen, let’s be reasonable. It won’t work,” I say, trying to remain calm. I don’t need to go into grouch mode. I’m trying to watch myself around Candice, and while I want to help her, this sounds like a nightmare. “When will we have the time to set up? And setting up will only interfere with our customers out here looking for their tree, their wreath, buying crap in the store. We only have a couple of Saturdays left until Christmas Day. We can’t afford to lose even an hour.”
“You won’t be the one setting up, Charles. I have a crew that could come in and do that. And really, we’ll hardly need to do anything, considering it’s already so festive here. The lights, the trees, the music.” Candice smiles, and I can tell she’s trying to contain her excitement by the way her butt is wiggling in the chair. “It’s the perfect solution, Victoria! I totally agree.”
The expectant looks on their faces makes me feel bad for what I’m about to say, but I have to say it anyway. “It doesn’t make sense for us to do it, Candice. I’m sorry, I want to help you and the arts council out, but we can’t have the party here.” I keep my voice even, add a grim smile to the end of my statement, but it doesn’t really matter.
There’s fire in Candice’s eyes. More than that, there’s disappointment. So much that I have to look away from her. Victoria is wise enough to slip out of my office without another word, leaving Candice and me alone.
“You don’t want to help me.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, I can’t. This is my business. The Christmas season accounts for almost eighty percent of our gross profit for the entire year. If we don’t earn it now, we’re screwed.”
“So your business always comes first.” She sniffs, that sheen reappearing in her eyes.
“It has to. It’s not just my business, it’s my family’s too. We have to take care of each other and put this business first. Above all else.”
“Even a charitable cause? Without this event, the arts council will lose a sizable chunk of their fundraising money. Losing it will do serious damage to the future of the charity,” she explains.
I know what she says makes sense, but having the event here flat out doesn’t make sense. Not to me.
“This is exactly the opportunity your mother was looking for—getting the Sullivan name out there and letting the community know that you want to offer your support. What better way than hosting the event at your place of business?”
She’s good, I’ll give her that. No wonder so many charities like that she volunteers for them. She’s got me half convinced it’s a good idea to have the party here after all.
“Can I think about it?” I lean back in my chair, contemplating her.
“Of course.” She smiles, triumph filling her gaze.
Little sneak, thinking she’s already pulled one over on me.
“What time was the party supposed to start?”
“It starts at seven and ends at eleven.” She rests her hands in her lap, her expression calm. Like she’s ready to go into deep negotiations with me.
“How many people?”
“Last year we had around four hundred in attendance. This year we’re hoping for five hundred.”
Jesus. That’s a lot of freaking people.
“The store will have to be closed.” I stroke my chin, tug on my lower lip. I do that a lot when I’m thinking. “Can’t have them milling about in the merchandise.”
“Of course not.” She’s still calm. No bouncing in her seat like she usually does.
“Where would you set everything up?”
“Can we go outside and I’ll show you?”
I frown. “You want to have it outside?”
“Where else would we have it, Charles? Outside makes the most sense. But I have a plan.” She rises to her feet. “Come on. Let’s go outside and I’ll show you.”
Twenty-One
Candice
I refuse to get excited. I need to remain calm. Logical. If I say too much or make over-the-top suggestions, Charlie will shut my plans down. I haven’t known him long, but I think I’ve started to somewhat figure him out.
We’re outside, and I’m pointing where I think everything needs to go for the party. He nods at everything I say, even makes a few comments and offers bits of advice. My biggest concern is the food. We don’t serve a full-course meal at the event; we never have. We have a large variety of appetizers both hot and cold, a full cash bar, and there’s always a special dessert presented during the last hour to close out the evening—it’s a tradition that I don’t want to stop, because traditions are important.
Especially during the holiday season.
It might be difficult to pull this off without a kitchen or at the very least, some sort of catering station where the staff can prepare the food.
But I think we can make it work.
“This is the most insane idea ever.” Charlie is standing in the middle of the grassy area where I want everything to happen. The store is behind him, the cashier shed is to the right, close to the field of trees, and the shed is to our left, closer to the entrance.
It’s like a square, and with the way the lights crisscross over us, strung from the poles that line the entire area, and a few giant live trees standing nearby that clearly aren’t for sale considering their size, it’s the perfect spot.
“It could work, and you know it.”
He rests his hands on his hips, surveying the land like the farmer that he is. The breeze ruffles his hair, he’s got the scruff going on along his jaw, and he’s so handsome, he leaves me breathless.
“We only have five days to make this happen,” he says, and I love that he says we. “And today is pretty much over.”
“You’d be amazed what I can do in four days,” I say with way more confidence than I feel.
He smiles—actually he’s grinning. And it is the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed. “I’ve seen you in action, Gaines. I know what you can do with a few hours, and it’s pretty fucking impressive.”
I don’t even mind that he used such a strong curse word. I am beaming from ear to ear from his compliment.
“I hear there’s going to be a party here!” We both turn to see Isabel coming toward us, Victoria following behind.
Charlie groans, and I can’t help but smile.
The man is now completely outnumbered. Poor thing.
“Did Vic call you?” Charlie asks his mother as she approaches him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Of course she did,” Isabel answers. “And when she told me what Candice wants us to do, I knew this was a wonderful idea.”
“It’s a terrible idea,” he says irritably, and I almost want to laugh.
He’s so cute when he’s grouchy.
“We’ll make it work.” Is
abel turns to look at me, her gaze assessing. As if she can see right through me. Does she know I have feelings for her son? Will she think I’m crazy for falling for him so quickly?
Maybe.
But that’s the chance I’ll have to take.
“What do you think?” Isabel asks me. “Can you make this happen and stay out of Charlie’s way?”
He makes a growling noise, but I don’t turn and look at him.
“I think we can, but I don’t want to do this if Charlie isn’t on board. I don’t want to interfere with your business,” I say solemnly, clasping my hands together. “I want this to benefit both the arts council and the Sullivan Tree Farm.”
“Charlie. What do you think?” Isabel asks him.
He breathes deep, exhaling slowly, and I finally chance a look at him to find he’s already watching me. His eyes have a gleam in them, not the familiar devilish one this time. There’s something more there. An unknown emotion in their green depths.
“Let’s go ahead and do it,” he finally says.
The words are barely out of his mouth and I’m already running toward him, jumping into his arms. Of course he catches me, and I smile down at him, tingling from head to toe when I feel those big hands of his gripping my butt firmly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I whisper.
Just before I kiss him.
Two hours later and we’re sitting in Charlie’s office, music playing in the background—more Christmas songs, though all of them are modern tonight—and I’m curled up on the couch, drawing diagrams on an old sketchpad he found in the bottom of one of his desk drawers, while he works on his laptop.
It’s so peaceful in his office. Warm and cozy, both of us quietly working, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable. The farm and store closed an hour ago, and Victoria and all the rest of the employees are long gone.
It’s just me and Charlie.
Tapping my pen against the edge of the sketchpad, I think about what happened earlier, and how I basically threw myself at Charlie right in front of his sister and his mother. Isabel never really said anything about me kissing her son, thank goodness. Though I saw the knowing look on her face when Charlie finally released me, setting me on my feet carefully, his cheeks a little ruddy, as if he was embarrassed.
A sigh escapes me. Gosh, he’s so cute. I watch him now. His head bent over his laptop, the glow from the screen highlighting the sharp angles of his face. His hair flops over his forehead, and every few seconds he pushes it out of his eyes.
The man seriously needs a haircut.
I’ve already drawn up a bunch of different ideas, and every one of them could work. So I’m going to stop for the night. Joyce is meeting Isabel and me here tomorrow first thing, and we’re going to plot out where we want everything to go. Members of the arts council board are set to meet us here at ten, and once we get their approval—which I think we will—then we can launch into our full plan of attack.
It’s going to be a huge endeavor, putting this party together. Rearranging everything, trying to make it work, staying out of Charlie’s way—staying out of the way of all the employees at the tree farm. It’ll be crazy. It’ll be chaotic.
It’ll be worth it.
My mind drifts, and I think of the kiss we shared earlier. While it had been a quick one, that entire moment is burned in my brain forever. I couldn’t contain my happiness over his answer and I threw myself at him. Seeing his handsome face, his smile, how easily he caught me in his arms, I knew I had to kiss him.
Honestly? I wish I were kissing him right now.
“You’re staring, Gaines,” he murmurs, his gaze glued to the computer screen.
“I am?” I sit up straighter and stretch my arms above my head. Now look at the one who’s staring. Directly at my chest. “Sorry.”
“You don’t sound very sorry.” His gaze locks with mine as he shuts his laptop.
“That’s because I’m not.” I shrug. “Besides, you were just staring too.”
“Can’t help it. You’re pretty.” The simple compliment makes my heart swell.
“So are you.” I rise to my feet and make my way to the desk, rounding it so I’m standing right next to his chair. He turns so he’s facing me, his long legs kicked out, his entire demeanor relaxed, his gaze heated as he takes me in.
I must say, I really like relaxed Charlie.
“You shouldn’t call a man pretty,” he says, tilting his head. “You might give him a complex.”
“I doubt I’m wounding your fragile masculinity,” I tease. He’s not too bossy. He’s never really tried to tell me what to do, though he’s pretty good at avoiding me when he wants to.
Right now, I don’t think he wants to.
Charlie reaches out and grabs hold of my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I like having you in my office.”
I raise my brows. “You do?”
He nods. “I thought you might talk too much, but you didn’t.”
Laughing, I squeeze his hand. “That’s my worst and best trait.”
“What, how you talk a lot?”
I nod.
“It drives me a little crazy sometimes,” he admits.
“In a bad way?” Uh oh.
“Sometimes, especially when we first met. Most of the time, though, in a good way.” He tugs on my hand, pulling me closer, and he spreads his legs wider so I’m standing in between them. “You pretty much drive me crazy all the time.”
I press my lips together, wondering what he wants me to do next. I kind of want to climb onto his lap. Wrap my legs and arms around him. Kiss him for a while. Maybe do a few other things. Could that desk chair support both of us?
I’m willing to test it out if he is.
“Come here,” he murmurs, as if he can read my mind. He sits up a little straighter and I contemplate him for a moment before I decide to go for it.
I climb onto the chair with him, slinging my arms around his neck, my face just above his since I’m propped on my knees on either side of his hips. The black leather chair is big and cushy, but I’m not going to last long like this.
Charlie wraps his arms around my waist, his fingers slipping beneath my jeans, touching the bare skin of my back. I jolt at first contact. His fingers are so hot, like a brand.
“Are you trying to get into my pants, Charles?” I raise my brows in question.
One side of his mouth quirks up—he looks mighty pleased with himself as he strokes my skin, right above the waistband of my panties. “Maybe.”
“All you had to do is ask,” I whisper just before I dip my head, my mouth making brief contact with his before I pull away. “Thank you for saying yes this afternoon. To the party.”
“I had no choice. I was surrounded by three strong women determined to get what they want,” he says just as he presses his face against my neck, his mouth on my skin.
I close my eyes, shivering at the first touch of his damp lips. I love that he thinks I’m strong. No one has ever called me that before. I’m usually just helpful Candice. Silly Candice. Happy Candice.
But it’s like Charlie sees me for who I’m really am, and that I might even make him…
Proud.
His hands are wandering, and his mouth is blazing a trail of heat along my throat. I bury my fingers into his thick, soft hair, clutching him to me.
“You could’ve said no,” I tell him, a shuddery exhale escaping me when he nibbles on that spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “I thought you were going to.”
“I discovered something this afternoon.” He shifts away so that our gazes meet.
“What did you discover?”
“That I have a hard time resisting you.” He kisses me before I can answer him, and I drown in his taste. His lips move over mine, our tongues tangling, little whispers and sighs escaping both of us.
This feels so good. Almost too good to be true. What’s happening right now between us, it should scare me.
Yet it doesn’t. Not at all. I feel safe in his arms
. The way he kisses me, like he thinks I’m beautiful, as if he actually wants me…
It’s the most heady feeling in the world.
Twenty-Two
You thought I was going to give you all the deets over what happened in Charlie’s office, huh? Well, sorry to disappoint, but we only kissed. Though we did kiss for a long, long time. So long, my mouth was kind of sore.
Have you ever kissed someone so much that your lips hurt afterward? I never had before, but I have to say, it’s a delicious feeling.
Worth the pain, for sure.
We also may have felt each other up a little bit. Hands here and there. Everywhere. Though Charlie never did get into my pants, not all the way.
No naked body parts exposed. I know, I know. I can’t believe it either. I thought for sure something would happen.
But that’s okay. Once this party is over with, I plan on letting him into my pants—panties—whenever he wants.
However many times he wants it.
Twenty-Three
Charlie
It’s Saturday. The day of the fundraising party, and I swear to fucking God, I feel like I’m about to lose my mind. Nothing is normal about my day. Not one damn thing, and I’ve discovered that ever since I met Candice, I’m a person who really depends on a daily routine.
She’s come into my life and ruined my routine completely.
Yet for some reason, despite the chaos and the extra people underfoot and the annoying, repetitive sound of a hammer ringing in my ears—what the hell are they hammering, anyway?—I’m happy. Right now, I’m whistling as I work, like a damn elf from that one Disney movie.
Who am I right now?
Deciding it was best to keep myself out of the way—God knows what I might say if I was out there trying to help them—I’m working the cashier booth today. Yep, I’m taking people’s money, I’m directing them where to go, I’m listening to customer complaints and I’m calling employees on the radio to coordinate tree pickups out among the rows.
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