Andy bumped her shoulder with his. “Sorry about Dad. He’s been on this kick lately.”
Reese shrugged. “He’s nothing compared to Grandma.”
“Ruth wants great-grandkids?” Andy asked as they climbed back over the snow.
Reese was concentrating on her feet and not on her mouth when she blurted, “Nope. She thinks you’re a hottie.”
Landing on both feet, she realized what she’d said and whipped around in horror. It was bad enough that Grandma didn’t have a filter and said things like that; Reese didn’t have to repeat them.
She opened her big mouth to apologize when Andy slipped and landed on his backside. Reese rushed to his aid. “Are you okay?”
Andy grimaced. “Just my pride.”
“Anyone can slip.” Reese grabbed his elbow and helped pull him up.
Once standing, Andy brushed off his pants. “I meant my male ego. Grandma Ruth’s the only woman who’s ever called me a hottie— and she’s, like, a hundred years old.”
Reese narrowed her eyes. “Are you fishing for a compliment? Seriously?”
Andy laughed and held up both gloved hands like he was surrendering. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Reese nodded once. “Good.”
Dropping his arms, Andy shuffled his feet. “But if I were …”
Rolling her eyes, Reese chuckled. “Don’t worry, lover boy, you’ve still got it.”
“Yeah?” Andy puffed up his chest.
“Sure— you should hear how the ladies from Whispering Pines Rest Home talk about your stubble-covered jaw when they come in to buy their monthly supply of butterscotch candies.”
“Why you—” Andy lunged, picking her up by the middle and throwing her over his shoulder. He spun in quick circles, making her laugh and screech. When she could barely breathe for laughing so hard, he stopped. “Do you give?”
“I give. I give,” Reese said between gulps of air interspersed with giggles.
Andy set her on her feet and straightened up. They’d spun out into the street, and Reese tottered, still dizzy.
“Whoa there.” Andy placed his hands on her hips to steady her. However, his nearness had the opposite effect, and Reese’s head spun in a whole different direction.
Andy tugged lightly on her braid, smiling lazily as if he had all the time in the world to stand in the middle of Main Street holding her in his arms.
Reese searched his eyes for any indication that he felt the electricity pulsing between them. Every cell within her body wanted to feel Andy’s lips on hers. She ached with the hope, silently willing him to feel the attraction and act on it.
Andy touched their foreheads together, their breath puffing together in the cold, before brushing his stubble-covered cheek across hers. Reese felt her knees go soft, like she’d been melted over a double broiler.
A blue sedan honked and Reese jerked. Andy glanced over his shoulder, dropped his arms, and pulled her to the side of the road. The sedan rolled by with the driver’s side window down. The guy inside yelled, “Get a room!”
Reese’s eyes went wide with shock. She and Andy burst out laughing. The moment, whatever it had been, was over, replaced with this heightened awareness of Andy’s facial hair and a slow, burning desire to find out how it would feel to have his lips brush hers. She wasn’t selfish. She didn’t need a whole makeout session. A simple peck would have been enough.
Feeling as though she was standing on a bunch of loose marbles, Reese placed her hand on the car for support.
“What are your plans for the weekend?” asked Andy.
“I’m not sure …” Reese frantically tried to put her brain back together, but she felt like she was trying to fold one of Pop’s boxes without the instructions. This weekend. This weekend. “Oh, we’re decorating the window for Kenworth’s.”
Andy shook his head. “Right. I forgot you guys did that.”
“Yeah.” Reese dug her keys out of her coat pocket. Her gloved hand got stuck in the small space, and she felt like a dork trying to free herself. Smooth. “It’s like a big family tradition. My dad stops for turkey dinners from Fay’s and we play Elvis’s Christmas album.”
“Right,” said Andy.
Reese yanked her hand out of the glove. “I know it sounds cheesy, but it wouldn’t be Christmas without it.” She freed her glove and then shoved her fingers back inside. Much better. Triumphant, she grinned at Andy. “A week later we have to take it all down and do the whole thing in reverse— including the hot chocolate.”
“Sounds like fun.” Andy shuffled his feet and looked anywhere but at Reese.
The silence between them grew heavy with expectation. Reese blinked. Was he waiting for an invitation to Kenworth’s?
He ducked his head and grinned sheepishly.
Oh. My. Gosh. He was!
For one crazy minute Reese could see Andy there. Opening boxes of decorations with her dad, talking about the Echo Ridge High basketball team with Clark, and teasing her mom about her Christmas sweater collection. Her mom! There was no way she could invite Andy to spend the evening with her family. Andy would want to talk about the new online branch of The Candy Counter, and that could not happen. She had to keep Andy at arm’s length, at least until she had a chance to tell her parents she’d expanded their business without their permission.
“Pfft. You have a seriously warped idea of fun,” she joked, hoping to ease the growing tension.
Andy shrugged; his earlier excitement had watered down to resemble hot chocolate that’s been left on the counter for too long. Probably because Reese wasn’t exactly encouraging him. Grandma would tell her to “grab onto the boy and not let go.” It just wasn’t that easy.
Reese wanted to spend time with Andy, just not with her parents and Andy. Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t care, but she had a secret to keep, and the one guy who could cause it all to blow up in her face was Andy. Was it possible to want someone and not want them around at the same time? Oh, this whole thing was a mess!
Reese glanced at Pop’s store, now dark. “I’d better get going.”
“Yeah. Me too. Night.” Andy took several steps back so Reese could open her door. He looked everywhere but at her and kept his hands behind his back.
Reese climbed in, turned on the car, and cranked up the heater. Thankfully the engine was still warm enough to give her some relief from the chill in the car. The chill in Andy’s goodbye was another thing altogether. She felt that one all the way down to her toenails. The road she walked was covered in ice. One slip and Reese would lose the online store, or she could miss a chance with Andy. For now, she’d clutch her arms close to her chest and take baby steps. It was achingly painful, but necessary if she was going to make it through Christmas with her heart intact.
THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS flew by as Reese took her turn in the chocolate kitchen, watching Grandma, and working The Candy Counter. She’d started receiving Santa orders through email. Andy had sent a message explaining that it would be easier if the orders went straight to her inbox rather than him printing them out and delivering them every other day. While she couldn’t argue with his logic, she also couldn’t help but wonder if Andy was avoiding her because of their last awkward encounter. That stung. And filled her thoughts throughout the day.
A huge snowstorm moved in on Friday afternoon, making the Ice Money who came to ski Ruby Mountain extremely happy and covering Echo Ridge with Christmas cheer. Kids pulled out plastic sleds of all shapes and sizes and headed to the sledding hill. They built snow forts in their front yards and launched snowballs at each other amidst laughter and shouting and the occasional set of tears.
Drivers all over town slowed down, and the plow operators increased their rotations to stay on top of the situation. The streets were sprayed with de-icer, and Reese had to spend fifteen minutes clearing her windows before she could drive to Kenworth’s Saturday night to help her parents with the window display.
Pulling around to the back of the store, Reese fou
nd her parents’ van with the door wide open, revealing stacks and stacks of boxes. She let out a deep breath. This is going to be a project.
Reese got out of the car at the same time her parents came through the large metal door pulling the cart they used to move stock. The wheels got wet, so they’d have to mop up before they left. Emma Schiffman, the cleaning lady who worked nights, worked hard to support her family, and they wouldn’t add to her load. Reese had run into Emma’s husband once after hours and was totally creeped out. The guy had steroid muscles and tats and had shaved his head. Reese wouldn’t have judged him for his appearance if it hadn’t been for the look in his eye. There was a streak of cold there that had her pulling her coat tight.
“Hi, honey.” Dad pulled her in for a one-armed hug.
Reese smiled. “Hi, Dad.”
Mom grinned. “Good timing, we just got here.” Joy glanced at Reese’s hair. “Do you need an elastic? I think there’s one in my purse.”
“I’m good. Thanks.” Reese couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mom with her hair down. She often said that she didn’t feel ready to work unless she was all pinned up.
Tonight, Joy was a woman on a mission. A vision of the window display for Kenworth’s front window had come to her sometime between pouring hot sugar into sucker molds and wrapping taffy. She had a map in her pocket, sketched on a brown paper towel, but Reese had yet to study it. This was her mom’s project, and Reese was only there to accomplish the manual labor, not to actually contribute to the design.
In truth, Reese hadn’t been that interested in the window display since her mom shot down her idea of creating a chocolate sculpture. Reese’s idea was safely tucked away in her sketchpad, not on a napkin.
“Where’s Clark?” she asked. Her little brother usually did the brunt of the heavy lifting, and with all those boxes to unload, they could sure use him.
“He’s at the basketball game.”
Reese accepted the box Joy handed her and waited for a couple more to be stacked on top. “What? He’s missing decorating night?”
“I know. He’s been working so hard on his applications, his entry for the art show, school, and still taking his shift at the counter. I thought he could use a night to just hang out with his friends.” Dad grabbed a stack of boxes and transferred them to the cart.
Reese had forgotten how busy life was for a senior in high school. “He does deserve it. He’s a good kid.”
“We got two of the best.” Mom winked.
Reese’s arms were as full as her heart.
To get to the front window from the back room, they had to cut between the children’s department and the toy section; slide past the Hope Tree and The Candy Counter; traverse the delicate vials, flasks, and jars in the fragrance area; and skirt the holiday display. “Only forty more trips to go,” joked Reese.
“If you two don’t mind, I think I’ll get started on the snow.” Joy dropped the two bags of stuffing next to the front door.
“Bring your vision to life, honey.” Dad began unloading the cart.
“Grandpa was seriously obsessed with these things.” Reese squatted down to gently place her pile on the floor.
“They’re collectors’ items. Some of these are worth hundreds of dollars,” said Dad.
Reese counted twenty-five boxes and there were more in the car. At a hundred bucks a piece … “Yeah, but …”
“Everyone has to find their passion. This was your grandpa’s,” said Mom.
Reese thought about that as she watched her dad. They headed back outside for another load. “What’s your passion?” she asked.
Ike paused mid-lift. “I guess I would say it’s my family. I’ve never had to look outside the walls of my home to find fulfillment.”
“Awww, Dad!” Reese planted a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t get all mushy on me,” Dad chided her. “What’s your passion, Reese?”
Reese sighed. She loved The Candy Counter. She loved dipping chocolates with her mom and grandma, talking to the customers, taking pride in her work, knowing her family owned it and could make it whatever they wanted. Andy had understood. He’d been the only one to understand. And she’d pushed him away to protect her own interests. “Chocolate,” she said, her mouth twisting downward.
“You don’t sound very happy about it.”
Reese stuffed her hands in her coat pocket and stared at the huge flakes falling down around them. “I love what we do. I really do. The Candy Counter is all I’ve ever known and I want to be a part of it. I just …” Reese shrugged. “I feel like there could be more to it.”
“Your time will come,” said Dad. “Then you’ll wonder why you ever wanted all this in the first place.” He gestured to the Christmas house collection.
Reese shook her head. “You can keep that. Better yet, give it to Clark. He’ll love it.”
Dad laughed. “Too bad. It’s all part of The Candy Counter, and that will be yours.”
They finished loading the cart and headed back to the window.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask—” He cut a quick glance to Reese.
She was immediately put on edge. Had the bank statement arrived early this month? Did he see all the out-of-town credits?
“Your mom said you were out with Andy Edwards the other night. Is there anything I should be worried about?”
Okay, so it wasn’t the Santas Dad wanted to discuss, but it was dangerously close. “Andy was just nice enough to help me out with some Christmas stuff.” Like he was nice enough to do the website. Or show her how to ship the Santas. Or almost kiss her in the middle of Main Street. Reese closed her eyes, once again feeling the brush of Andy’s cheek against hers.
“Don’t tell me you like him.” Dad groaned, and it wasn’t because his boxes were heavy.
Reese’s eyes popped open. “I am not having this conversation with you, Dad.” She stepped inside and stuck her foot against the door to hold it open for the cart.
Dad stopped shifting uncomfortably. “I know you’re all grown up and pay taxes and everything.”
Reese hid her smile. Spoken like an accountant.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you to file jointly—”
Reese huffed out a laugh. The next thing she knew, Dad would be comparing marriage to combining income statements. “Dad, enough with the tax analogy. Get in here before we both freeze.”
Dad stepped into the store and Reese moved her foot so the door would shut behind them. She started walking, but stopped when her dad said, “It’s just … you haven’t brought anyone around for a while.”
“Walk and talk, Dad.” Reese encouraged him to keep moving. They had a long night ahead of them. She hurried her feet. “I haven’t brought anyone around, Dad. Andy’s just nice like that.” Nice and adorable in a hat, with his curls flipping up from underneath.
Dad jutted out his chin. “Men are never helpful unless they’re interested in a woman.”
“You help Mom all the time.”
“Right— I’m interested.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Ew, Dad!”
“Okay, fine. But if you’re going to let him down, do it easily. You Gates girls are hard to get over.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Reese wondered if she’d already let Andy down. Remembering his disappointment the other night brought a fresh wave of guilt. With all that Andy had done to help her, she hadn’t repaid him well. Maybe she could tell her mom about the website. She’d already sold out one set of Santas. At this rate, she’d sell a third as many online as they sold in the store. That kind of increase was worth talking about and taking seriously.
Reese bit her lip. She’d have to find the right moment. Maybe after the window was done and they were basking in their hot chocolate with homemade mint marshmallows. Then, once it was all out in the open, Reese wouldn’t have to worry about having Andy around her family, and she could drop those hints she’d been working on.
They made it
to the front of the store, where Joy was in the window box, laying out the fake snow and glitter. Mom said her goal this year was to create something that would make the children of Echo Ridge happy.
Behind the front window was a raised platform three feet deep that was level with the bottom of the window. It was just tall enough to be at eye level for children, which was perfect for displaying toys and the child-sized mannequins during the rest of the year. Behind the platform was a light gray backdrop. In years past they’d covered the backdrop with wrapping paper or a sheet of fabric. Kenworth’s owned beautiful artwork, which they’d switch out for different seasons or sales. There was always one department or another that had a sale going, and the window box was the perfect place to advertise. The window measured six feet wide, so there was plenty of room to play with. Reese was suddenly glad Grandpa Paul had an addiction to Christmas houses, because it would take quite a few to fill the window display.
Joy’s phone rang, and she pulled it from her back pocket to answer it. “Hello?” She listened for a few seconds, worry lines forming on the sides of her mouth. “We’re on our way.” She ended the call with a thank-you and turned to Ike. “That was Emma Schiffman. She said Mom wandered outside in her pajamas and slippers. She found her standing in the driveway with her purse and a set of keys, yelling that someone had stolen her car.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Emma took her inside, but she can’t stay long. She’s got to get here to clean or Cecilia will have her head.”
They all grimaced at the thought of Cecilia laying into the young mom.
Dad didn’t waste a second. “I’m on it. You’ve got this, right?” he asked Joy, nodding his head toward the window.
“Yeah. Reese and I can do the window display. But I should go.”
“You can’t. You’re the only one who knows what the display should look like.”
Joy’s head bobbed. “Okay. Hurry.” Dad hugged Mom close. “I thought she’d sleep. I didn’t think she’d …” Joy continued to mumble into Dad’s shoulder.
Christmas Kisses: An Echo Ridge Anthology (Echo Ridge Romance Book 1) Page 5
