by Dana Volney
“James and I are talking about the convention center,” Candace said.
“Among other things.” James took a drink.
“I’m sure.” Luke wanted a better explanation—hell, he wanted her not to be hanging out socially with James in the middle of her workday. When he’d first spotted her, he thought she’d come in to see him.
Candace probably was telling the truth about her motives. They were more than likely talking about the convention center. But that was part of the problem with her. It always had been. She stopped at nothing to get what she wanted and put business first. The same problem he’d had with her growing up surfaced, and this time it came with a sting.
He’d let himself think that maybe they had something. That, after years of bickering, they’d moved past that into something nicer, friendlier, and a whole lot more intimate. This disappointment was on him—his fault completely for thinking Candace could put business aside and let her personal life take precedence.
Luke wanted to walk away. He should’ve turned and never looked back. Yet he couldn’t. He hadn’t fought for Cheryl when he’d found her in bed with James, and Luke had dated her for two years. But he sure as hell wanted to fight for Candace.
Something good had started between them—something that had the potential for greatness—and he wasn’t ready to let go.
“James was just telling me his company plans to have all the buildings torn down by spring to break ground,” she said.
He nodded. Candace gave off a serious vibe that told him to walk away. Probably so she could get more information out of James. How far is she willing to go?
“I can let you come back in and take mementos before we demo,” James said.
“How very generous of you.” Now he’d had enough. The universe was playing a sick, thought-out joke on him between the city council threat, his feelings for Candace, and James reappearing. He didn’t know which to fight first so he walked away.
But he did glance back in time to see James get up, throw down a twenty, and leave.
“Are you happy?” Candace called out to Luke.
“No. As a matter of fact I’m not.” He met her halfway down the bar.
“I was just trying to gather knowledge, Luke. Knowledge is power, ya know.”
“Sure.”
“Whatever. I have to get back to the shop anyway.”
“That’s it? A whatever is all I get?” Oh my God, I sound like a jealous teen girl. He had to get himself under control. He was headed down a bad road fast. One he didn’t want to meet Candace at the end of—their relationship, whatever it was, would never survive.
“What do you want? I told you why I was with him.”
“The fact that you were with him at all is the problem.”
“I can’t change that now, can I?”
“I’d thought you’d changed. My bad.”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong.” She spun on her heels and walked out his door.
Candace was right. She’d technically done nothing wrong. She and James could have been kissing and he’d have had no real right to get mad about it. He and Candace weren’t exactly boyfriend and girlfriend. And if she wanted to find out about the project, then more power to her. But still, he didn’t like what he’d witnessed—James near Candace and her deciding to be around someone she knew Luke totally disliked in every way. His mind spun of one sweet, confusing, irritating mess called Candace.
• • •
Luke rubbed the scruff on his chin all the way down to his neck. What am I doing here? He resisted the urge to turn and walk out. He stood in the local television station’s main room, which consisted of one giant camera facing three unique settings: weather, reporting the news, and interviewing guests.
“This,” Misty, the reporter, pointed to two oversized navy chairs with a square coffee table in between, “is where we’ll talk on camera.”
“Are you going to ask me specific questions or I just start talking about what we’re doing?”
“No, silly.” She gently batted his forearm. “We’ll discuss main points, why you’re hosting a block party, where it is, the times, and what you’re offering. I’ll lead.” She winked and walked toward the seating area.
Perfect, except I’ll be focusing mostly on why we’re doing all this crap. On paper the ideas he and Candace had hashed out seemed easy. In reality, the group had invested a lot of time and phone calls making sure the event would be large and successful.
“Haven’t you been on the morning show before? Or any TV program?” She glanced down at her notes before looking at him for an answer.
“Nope.”
“It’s simple. Just speak to me like we’re having a conversation. Don’t worry about the camera.”
Misty, the tall, skinny blonde, took her seat and reached for a black coffee mug on the table separating them. He sat on the plush chair that was angled toward Misty, uncomfortable in his jeans and button-up black shirt. When he’d dressed in the early hour he figured the camera would only shoot chest up; now he wasn’t so sure. Khakis would’ve been a better choice. The limelight had never called to him before, and rest assured it wouldn’t again. He wanted to secure his pub and to go back to his life of running the place. His fate would be sealed by the city council, one way or another, in a couple of days.
Yet he didn’t feel that spark of happiness like he used to. Something had changed. Two days ago he was good, yesterday he was too busy to think about anything but year-end duties, and today he felt a tiny void.
Why now and why an emptiness?
Probably his existential crisis came about due to lack of sleep the night before. Candace had invaded his dreams, which led to his constantly waking and then having a hard time going back to sleep. In the dream, in every variation, she stood in front of him laughing and talking, but he couldn’t hear her words. He could always see her bright smile and sparkling blue eyes very clearly. When she reached for him he woke, every time. The dream, or maybe more accurately the nightmare, daunted him. Dammit, it also turned him on. He was a sucker for her eyes and lips—and, man, her lips did not disappoint either. They were soft and he wanted more.
A sinking feeling gnawed at his gut.
“I’ve been to The Pub before,” Misty said.
Her cat-like eyes pierced him. “Good. I hope you liked your experience.”
“My girlfriends and I loved it. We went on a night you had a live band and dancing. It was a very fun night.”
This reporter was all around unsettling. Her words seemed nice, but he got the feeling they meant something different. He studied the harsh edges of her cheeks. Do I know her?
The news director, a svelte man in his early fifties, greeted him and ran down the questions for the short segment. Luke had to be professional and well-spoken for four minutes.
The camera light flashed green and he turned to Misty, whose demeanor morphed into friendly and innocent. Suddenly, she seemed more familiar to him. Had he met her at his pub? He pushed the thought out of his mind as she introduced him to the viewing public at six a.m.
“Luke, you and six other businesses are hosting a fun event this weekend—why don’t you tell us a little more?”
“We’re going to have food and hot chocolate downtown this Friday. There will be sleigh rides and fun for the kids with live music under a heated tent. There’ll be something for everyone.”
“And the weather looks like it’ll hold up for a warmer day. Sounds like a lot of fun,” she said. “You can’t beat a free event.”
She smiled warmly at him and the memory hit him in his ribs. They’d shared a night together. He managed a nod to her compliment and waited for a question.
“What brought about this terrific community block party?” she asked.
“There is a measure before city council to build a convention center in Casper. The problem is they want to build where seven businesses are. We don’t want to lose our livelihood and feel we bring a lot to the community. Th
ere are other areas the convention center can be built, and we’d like people to urge their city council representative to vote for other locations and leave our businesses alone.”
His muscles tightened. This is so stupid. If people really didn’t understand how bad of an idea it was to tear down businesses to build another, there was no helping anyone in this town. Not to mention he now had a full memory of Misty and their lip dance a couple of years ago. She clearly remembered. Case in point for why I quit drinking so much. He smiled at her, wanting to exude a laid-back demeanor for the public, even if he felt anything but.
• • •
Candace watched the television in the back room of Kiss from a Rose with a dry mouth. Is she flirting with him? She rewound to the last minute of the morning show segment and scrutinized every detail. Misty, the morning show host, leaned into Luke and crossed her leg toward him. The desire between them blatantly played on her TV screen. And there Luke sat, nonchalant in his chair, charming as ever. Flashes of their kiss warmed her cheeks.
“Whatcha watching?” Sophie asked as she waltzed into the back room.
“Nothing.” Candace grabbed the remote and clicked off the TV.
“Uh-huh. Sure. Did you have a good time at the show with Luke?”
“About that.” Candace squared with her friend, who sat across from her. “What’s the deal?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Sophie batted her eyelashes and looked way too innocent.
“Not good enough. Why did you invite Luke? You like him?” Candace tried to keep the edge out of her voice. There was no need to be jealous of a reporter and her friend in the same hour. And, really, jealous over what? Luke wasn’t hers.
Maybe this feeling was what had come over Luke yesterday when he’d seen her with James. That drink had deteriorated quickly, so she’d agreed to meet James for dinner another day. Luke had been so maddening—like he had a right to be ticked. Pfft. He didn’t. Did he? No. She was going to do what she had to for her business and the others. Luke was going to have to deal with that fact.
“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.
CHAPTER SEVEN
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 s
ame 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.
