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Lucy McConnell's Snow Valley Box Set

Page 56

by Lucy McConnell


  They shook, and he held on for a heartbeat or two longer than he should, because that current that had been there last night was back again. He finally let go. On the way out the door, he put his fingers on the small of her back. Just for show. He’d seen Chet to that to Mercedes. That’s what couples do. They touch. He was just trying to look like a couple. That was all. Yeah, and he didn’t hear his heart pounding in his ears or feel his stomach drop out when they came into contact.

  The mayor stood sentry. Moisture gathered at his temples. Troy wondered if he hated the holidays or just the gingerbread contest.

  Troy leaned close and whispered loudly. “If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything.”

  The mayor touched his finger to the side of his nose and nodded once. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Good man.” He clapped him on the back.

  “Congratulations, you two,” the mayor called. “Do you have a date?”

  Troy exchanged a look with Chloe. Chet must have told him about the engagement. “Not yet.”

  “Keep us posted.”

  “Will do.” Troy opened the door and his hand found Chloe’s back again on the way to the truck. “Is it strange to you that no one suspects us?”

  She turned slightly. “Should they?”

  He fumbled for words. “Well, you know. We aren’t really engaged. It’s not like we’re making out in the parking lot.”

  “Do you want to?” she asked, her face all innocence.

  Troy’s body temperature climbed. “I—well—you—”

  She laughed easily. “I was kidding.”

  “Oh.” He forced out a chuckle.

  She climbed into the cab, and he shut the door behind her. This was all too easy. The touching, being close to her. It came to him as easily as diagnosing a loose belt. And yet, being near her did things to him, like make his heart beat at a pace he wasn’t used to—or completely comfortable with.

  He climbed in and started the engine. “I probably should have said this before, but you did great last night with my family’s questions. I hadn’t even thought about what to say.”

  She turned towards him. His awareness of her went up by three when she did that. “I told the truth. No big deal.” She lifted a hand. “Not that I think of that lunch as a date or anything. I don’t think we’re dating.”

  He laughed a little too quickly. “No. We’re not dating.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Wait—why of course?”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “Because we don’t go out.”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if that was a hint of regret in her voice or something else. “Well, you make a fantastic fake fiancée.”

  Her smile wilted. “Thanks.” She looked out the windshield. Her profile was beautiful, her long lashes curling away from her stunning eyes and her cheekbones pronounced. Tracing her features brought him to her narrow chin. There was something stony about her look, like a statue hiding a secret inside.

  His compliment about her acting abilities had obviously fallen flat, and he wondered how he’d managed to stick his foot in his mouth this time.

  Chapter 8

  Chloe

  Chloe used a pair of pliers to twist the aluminum wire that held up one end of a strand of twinkle lights. The town hall, where the reception was to take place, had hooks evenly spaced and imbedded into the stunning brick wall nine feet off the ground. “They don’t make buildings like this anymore. I take it there have been fairy lights here before.” She tapped the hook in the wall with the pliers and smiled down the ladder at Troy’s mom, who kept a steady hand on the rickety perch.

  “This is where they hold the Christmas ball. It’s the only black-tie event this town has, and they go all out.”

  “Sounds fancy.” Chloe tucked the pliers in her back pocket and climbed down.

  “It is. A couple years ago they had the Iron Stix play. Of course, that was before they went off to Nashville and became superstars.”

  “I love their Christmas album.”

  Teresa stared off into space. “They sang ‘Blue Christmas’ for the first time on that very stage.” She nodded towards the black platform where the band would set up for the wedding.

  “You wouldn’t believe the strings I had to pull to rent this place so close to the ball. I promised to leave the lights and the stage set up.” Teresa wrung her hands. “There’s still so much to do.”

  Several women from the church’s ladies’ aid were setting up fake trees in all shapes and sizes. They had eleven standing sentry like nutcrackers. Another crew worked behind them, wrapping lights around the tree trunks. Piles and piles of decorations waited to be expertly hung. Chloe wasn’t sure her tree decorating skills were up to wedding standards, so she’d opted to work with tools and wire.

  She glanced down the line, where seventeen more strands of lights waited to be hung. “Let’s pick up the pace a little. Now that I’ve done a few, the rest should take twenty minutes—tops.”

  Teresa wrapped her in a hug that was over as fast as it had begun. “You’re so sweet to help.”

  Chloe laughed. “What was I going to do, sit at your house and eat chocolates while you did all this work?”

  “Troy should be helping.” His mom’s scolding was light enough that Chloe doubted she was actually mad at her son. “I promise you the best hot chocolate in town after we’re done here.”

  “What’s this lunch? The groomsmen’s lunch?” Chloe moved the ladder under the next hook and scampered up, her footsteps clanking as loudly as if she had buckets on her feet. She missed Troy too. Not that she’d tell him that. He was much too cocky for his own good. Then again, he wore it well. She had a hard time resisting his alpha side. Sheesh! Was it hot in here?

  Teresa sighed. “It’s a fancy name, but it’s an excuse for the guys to go to Big C’s, eat greasy food, and talk sports instead of wedding plans.”

  “And the bridesmaids are getting pedicures?” She looped the bit of wire through the hook and reached down to get the lights Teresa held up for her. This really was moving faster, and talking with Teresa was fun. Chloe had always thought meeting a boyfriend’s parents was a huge deal, but this whole fake fiancée thing gave her freedom to be herself. She wasn’t worried about spending the rest of her life with Teresa as a mother-in-law. However, the more they worked together, the more she liked the idea.

  “Pedicures. Manicures. All the cures for what ails a bride before her wedding,” Mom quipped.

  “You should be with them.” She finished with the lights and came down to move the ladder.

  “Oh no. This time is for the young ladies.” Teresa leaned close. “I’ve scheduled my spa day for the Monday after the wedding so I can recoup.”

  “Smart woman.” Chloe headed back up the ladder. From up there, she caught sight of a stack of huge snowflakes. “Are all the decorations in silver?”

  Mom laughed. “Grady teases Ronnie that she’s chromed out the wedding.”

  Chloe laughed. “I think it’s elegant.”

  “It will be. My girl may be able to change oil faster than any guy in the shop, but she’s got class.”

  “Wish I had more of that,” Chloe mumbled, her insecurities jumped to the surface.

  “What was that?”

  How different her life would have been if her mother had lived. Mom was a real lady, the kind of woman who could bake a pie from scratch and would set the dinner table with three forks. One for salad, one for the main dish, and one for dessert. Chloe smiled fondly at the memory. She hadn’t thought about dinners with her mom in years. “I said I’m sure that’s your influence. I can’t wait to meet her.” If she was anything like Troy and Candace, she was the type of person Chloe would want in her life.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t already.”

  Chloe yanked on the wire to twist it tighter. “I’ve seen her a couple of times when she came to pick Grady up, but she didn’t come inside. They wer
e kind of—” She stopped, not wanting to say what Grady and Ronnie were doing in the parking lot to say hello. “Wrapped up in each other.” Her ears grew warm and she wondered if she would ever learn to keep her mouth shut.

  “Well, I’ve never met two women who like cars as much as you and Ronnie.” Candace handed up a strand of lights.

  Chloe secured it and they scooted down the line. “It’s not that I like them as much as I understand them. Much more so than men, I’m afraid.” She and Troy were getting along really well, and she’d felt this spark between them. Then he had to go and ruin everything by complimenting her as a “fake” fiancée. Did he think she was fully pretending? Was he? Because as much as she’d like to say she was Oscar-worthy, she was just being herself and reacting naturally to the situation. Being with Troy was effortless—probably because they spent so much time together at work. Granted, at work they hardly spoke unless it was about a new transmission or an overcharge on a load of sand. Extending their ability to communicate well to things beyond work was expected, right?

  Teresa fiddled with the next set of lights, picking at a piece of tape with her fingernail. “I noticed you two weren’t getting along when you got here last night.”

  Chloe’s ears burned once again. That’s twice in one conversation. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring an argument to your front door.”

  “Forget that.” Teresa flapped her hand and went back to the lights. “Every couple fights.”

  “You’ve been married a long time. What’s your secret? Men are from Mars …?”

  “Honey, men aren’t as simple as those relationship books make them out to be. They tell you to feed him, love up on him, and he’ll walk to the moon for you. Not true. They have feelings too. What they don’t have is words. Try to get a man to talk about his feelings and he’ll run away screaming like a banshee.”

  Chloe laughed at the mental image of Troy running away from her. “Troy’s not the run-away type. He’s more a ‘dig his heels in’ guy.”

  “Just like his dad. And I’ll tell you what, that’s a good quality in a man.”

  Chloe climbed the ladder again. Her feet were starting to hurt from the rungs. She should have worn better shoes. “I always thought it was a better quality in a mule.”

  Teresa snickered. “You want a man who stands and fights as long as he’s fighting for the two of you. If he’ll fight for your marriage, then he’s a keeper.”

  “Huh.” Chloe secured the light. She may not be engaged to Troy for real, but she was lapping up the advice for her real love life. “And when he’s being a mule you’d rather kick than kiss?”

  “Well, feed him and love him and protect his heart.”

  Chloe hopped off the last rung and landed square in front of Teresa.

  Teresa’s eyes were full of a fire that burned right into Chloe’s conscience. “And fight for the two of you too. Don’t give up easy—even when it gets too hard.”

  Chloe swallowed. Teresa searched her face, as if looking for the courage she wanted in a daughter-in-law. Chloe wanted to be that woman who would pass the test, who would be enough for this amazing woman’s son. And, she wanted to climb under the stage to hide from the guilt that swelled inside of her for lying to Troy’s mom.

  “I will,” Chloe promised, the words tasting like battery acid on her tongue.

  She turned to move the ladder before Teresa could find the truth in her face. She attacked the next wire with gusto, needing to get away from the intensity of the moment. She hoped Troy was having a good time, because the minute he got back, he was in so much trouble for leaving her here to lie for him.

  Chapter 9

  Troy

  Troy pulled up to the community center, the red brick stately in its old age. Candace once compared it to Harrison Ford, saying some things only got sexier with age. He didn’t know about a building being sexy—heck, he didn’t know about Harrison Ford being sexy—but he liked this building and the memories it held. Ronnie did well choosing it for the reception, especially at Christmas.

  The Christmas decorations around town were festive and fun. The plows kept the main roads clear and the ranchers did their best on the dirt roads. Just about everyone had four-wheel drive and used it a couple times each winter. So far a big storm hadn’t hit, but there would be one before Christmas—there always was, and it would bury Snow Valley in several feet of snow. The two feet they’d tangoed with since Thanksgiving was nothing compared to a Christmas storm.

  Lunch with the guys was great. They teased Grady about being whipped—which he wholeheartedly agreed with every time. As much as Troy had been opposed to his best friend marrying his little sister, the idea was growing on him. The sooner they got married, the sooner Grady would come down from the clouds. He wanted his business partner back to 100%. Although he was starting to think that things couldn’t go back to the way they were. Big change was right around the corner, and he couldn’t stop it.

  Pushing away the doomsday thoughts of his life flipping upside down because of this wedding, he whistled “Frosty the Snowman” and jogged up the concrete steps to the front door. Chloe was on the other side of that door, and he was eager to see her—to see if her face would light up when he came in the room.

  He walked the short hallway to the gathering room, the doors propped open with folding chairs. The place looked like a messy Christmas tree lot. Empty decoration boxes were scattered across the floor. Trees in varying stages of decoration crowded around like junior high students at their first dance, too shy to say hello to one another but standing close enough to touch. Strands of lights were strung from one side of the room to the other, their bulbs dim at the moment. The band’s stage was up and a guy in a black tee shirt and black pants ran wires through small holes in the floor.

  Natalie Lawson, who worked as a checker at Dove’s, was wrapping silver ribbon around a tree, and her daughter added silver and white sparkly sticks that poked out the side. Three boxes of silver and clear glass balls lay at their feet, waiting their turn.

  His mom was working on another tree next to the stage. This one was in an urn-type planter and had moss around the base of the trunk. She hung silver bells and glittered dove silhouettes with all the concentration of an army general about to go into battle.

  He finally found Chloe standing on the ladder off to the right of the door, hanging snowflakes with fishing line from a strand of lights. She tucked her hair behind her ear and rubbed her lips together as she concentrated. He watched her for a minute, wondering how he’d ever missed how graceful she was in her movements.

  Drawn by that attraction he’d determined to fight against, he made his way over to her. “Hey.”

  Chloe’s head jerked down and her arm flew out to the side in surprise, throwing her body off-balance. Running on pure instinct, Troy reached up and placed his hands on her hips to steady her. He took a step so he was behind the ladder and noted how perfectly her curves fit into his palms. His heart raced, and he worried that it wasn’t because she’d almost fallen.

  Chloe yipped and half fell backward into him, her feet still on the ladder. He stepped down to gain his balance.

  “What are you …?” She twisted, grabbing on to his neck and dropping her feet to the floor.

  They stood there, her hand on his neck and their bodies flush, both of them breathing fast. Troy’s arms wrapped around her back. He needed to steady himself even as she leaned into him—or maybe it was because she leaned into him that he was off-balance.

  “That was exciting.” He grinned down at her, his eyes dropping to her lips.

  “Yeah.” She ducked her head. Her fingers trailed up his neck, and then she snatched her hand away. Looking around quickly, she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room.

  Her hand felt just right in his, like a nut and a bolt perfectly paired. “Are we going somewhere?”

  “We need to have a talk.” She glanced behind him and then yanked open the door to a supply closet before shoving him
in and shutting the door.

  Troy flipped on the light and found a mop and yellow bucket with wheels, a spout to fill it, and shelves of cleaner and paper towels.

  Chloe smacked his bicep. “Your mother is the sweetest person on the planet.” She hit him again, making him flinch. “How can you lie to her about us?”

  “Whoa.” Troy grabbed her wrists so she’d stop whacking him. Not that she was hitting that hard—Ronnie had beat on his arm plenty. Chloe was taking it easy on him. “What is happening?”

  Chloe wilted. “I love your mom. She’s, she’s like the perfect mom, and you’re being a horrible son. Why would you ever feel the need to lie to her about being engaged? What is wrong with you?”

  Troy bristled. “Hold on. One afternoon with my mom does not make you an expert. When she tells you to pick your underwear up off the floor, then we can have this conversation.”

  “Ew. You leave your underwear on the floor?”

  That’s what she picked out of that comment? He growled. “Not anymore.”

  She poked his chest. “See—your mom taught you that. She deserves better than an ungrateful son like you.”

  He dropped her hands like they were covered in hot antifreeze. “Dang it, Chloe. You have no idea how many times over the last year she’s pestered me to date, to find someone, to please not let her die before I get married.”

  Chloe folded her arms and gave him the stink eye. “She did not say that.”

  “She implies it, though. See—” He pressed his fingers together as if he were holding something in his hand. “That’s what mothers do. They apply a layer of guilt to everything they say so the meaning is as clear as glass.”

  Chloe didn’t move. Didn’t speak. So he continued, “She was fine with me being single until Ronnie got engaged. It’s like, with one of us getting married, now we all have to be married. Ask Candace; she’s feeling the pressure too.”

  “But why make this up?” She threw her pointed finger back and forth between the two of them.

 

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