by Toni Blake
And he said, “Okay, sure. I’ll go to the snowcat contest with you.” Then bent toward the window, cupping her cheek in one palm, and gave her a small but intensely lingering kiss on the mouth. The sensation rippled straight down into her panties.
Then he stood back up and said, “Maybe you’ll keep my hands warm again.” And tossed her a wink before turning to walk away.
A couple of days later, Candice found herself in Under the Covers, pulling off one of the same mittens in which she’d held Shane’s hands to dangle it in front of the stray kitty, Holly, where she sat on a shelf in the romance section. The small grayish cat—sort of a teenager in the cat world, she thought—batted gently at it as Candice smiled down at her. Then she heard Amy, around the corner at the register, offering Jenny and Mick’s son, Dustin, a candy cane.
And she sighed, visions of Shane Dalton dancing in her head.
What had she been thinking the other night? Inviting him to the snowcat contest? Was she insane? She’d been smart enough to stop the madness out on the sleigh ride, smart enough not to let passion get the best of her—but that quickly she’d found a way to see him again?
Are you asking me on a date, Candy? She could still hear his deep voice wrapping around the words. And she still wasn’t certain. But it sure seemed like a date. Just one she was both worried and a little excited to go on.
Around the corner, Amy said to Jenny, “See you guys tonight! I can’t wait! From what I hear, the whole town is coming!”
And that was when it hit Candice. Not only had she asked her scary, sexy stranger on a date—she’d asked him on a date the entire town of Destiny would be attending. Oh God. Letting her eyes go wide, she whispered to the cat, “What have I done?”
The cat didn’t answer, just swiped her paw at the mitten again.
When Candice emerged from the shelves a few minutes later, having selected a couple of books to give as gifts, Jenny was gone, but now Amy stood with Tessa and Rachel. “Hey,” Tessa said to her, “want to hang with Rachel and me tonight at the park?”
Candice tilted her head. “Did Mike and Lucky talk their way out of going?”
“The opposite,” Rachel said. “The brothers Romo insisted that if they had to go—and they do—that they were teaming up to build what Mike claims will be the snowcat to end all snowcats. So Tessa and I decided to go together.”
It was funny to picture one of Destiny’s finest and one of Destiny’s toughest building a snowcat, and Candice squinted slightly. “I assumed this was mostly a kid’s contest. No?” She looked back and forth between the other women.
And Amy shook her head. “We have a kid’s division, a youth division, and an adult division.”
“This sounds complex,” Candice mused. She’d had no idea.
Amy just shrugged. “If I’m gonna organize a snowcat contest, I’m gonna do it up right.”
“So are you in?” Tessa asked.
And Candice blinked. Twice. “Thanks, but I . . . made plans with someone else.”
The others just looked at her, waiting for her to go on. Because they pretty much comprised her entire social circle and they knew it. “Are you bringing Aunt Alice?” Tessa asked.
“No—Mom’s going with some of the ladies from the church.”
They all widened their gazes on her expectantly then, still awaiting more—so she finally faced the music. “I’m coming with Shane Dalton.”
“Really?” Amy asked, eyes sparkling. She had a long history of matchmaking in Destiny and was always delighted by the notion of romance. “Wow!”
And Tessa said, “Hallelujah!” just as Rachel chimed in with, “Well, that’s a switch from your attitude the other day. The party setup must have gone really well.”
She tried to play it off cool, like it was normal, no big thing—like she went on dates with strangers all the time. “Yeah, I guess he isn’t so bad when you get to know him.” If you don’t count him even admitting that he’s someone to be wary of.
“I’m thrilled you decided to take my advice,” Tessa said, looking smugly pleased.
And Amy put her hands on her hips. “Hey, who’s the matchmaker around here anyway?”
Tessa just shrugged, still wearing the same proud, aloof look.
But Rachel moved straight onto, “Well, I’m just glad someone around here is taking advantage of this opportunity, because he’s totally hot. He looks like a guy who could be a lot of fun to cozy up to on a winter’s night. Like, say, naked.”
The other women just laughed—while Candice proceeded to blink a few more times. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said. “This is just a friendly date, nothing more.”
“Just sayin’,” Rachel added with a wink, “if I were you, I’d make it something more.”
“Well . . .” Blinking yet again, Candice tried to think of how to respond. And tried to stop blinking, too. “He’s only here temporarily, you know.”
Yet Rachel only shrugged. “No muss, no fuss. No messy breakup or complicated emotions.”
Okay, Candice was trying to play it cool—well, as cool as a woman who hadn’t been on a date in five years could, which wasn’t very—but at this she had to be honest. “If I made it something more, I’d have complicated emotions. That’s just how I’m wired.”
“Oh, don’t mind Rachel,” Amy said, swiping a hand down through the air. “We all have complicated emotions. Even her. When she met Mike—oh my gosh, the drama.”
“But that’s once in a lifetime,” Rachel insisted, fluffing it off. “If you go into it knowing the deal, knowing that it can’t really go anywhere serious, then it can just be . . . a little holiday cheer. Nothing more, nothing less.” She ended with a grin.
A little holiday cheer.
The words stayed in Candice’s head the whole drive home. They stayed in her head as she wrapped the books she’d bought and added them to the gifts already under the tree. They stayed in her head as she worked on the vacuum cleaner manual next to the fire with a white cat draped across her ankles like a blanket.
Some women could look at sex like that—and maybe at this moment in time, Candice wished she were one of them. But she just wasn’t. And so if she let this thing with Shane go any further than it already had, she would go into it knowing. That she’d end up attached. And hurt.
“So I can’t,” she told Frosty.
He let out a small mew. If she was reading that correctly, he was saying: Who cares? Pet me.
She supposed it didn’t matter much what she wore to the snowcat contest given that they’d have coats on the whole time, but when she was getting ready, she still chose a pretty pink sweater with shimmery white embroidered snowflakes. And though she commonly pulled her hair back into a ponytail, tonight she left it down. With the thought of being girlish and maybe a little bit pretty. If she was going to go on a date—even if she didn’t plan on letting it lead to any holiday cheer—she may as well try to look pretty.
She had Shane’s number and they’d arranged by text for her to pick him up at the General Mercantile at five while the snowcat building portion of the event was still taking place—with judging at seven. And as she drove toward town, she gave herself a pep talk.
It’s just a friendly date, like you told the girls. People will be happy to see you out and about, but no one will make a big thing of it. It’s two people walking around a snowcat contest together, nothing more.
Maybe you’ll keep his hands warm again, but that’s all.
Or . . . maybe you’ll even let him kiss you goodnight. But that’s certainly where things will stop.
Because you know yourself too well. And you don’t want to get hurt. She would certainly never let herself spend another five years pining over a guy, but . . . why even take the chance? And if you ever get close to someone again, it should be someone who makes sense. Not a guy who seems to have a sketchy past and, in fact, a sketchy future. Not a guy who’s only going to be in your life for a couple of weeks, tops. Nope, it’s
just a friendly date.
She felt good about that—solid about it—as she pulled into the drive next to the Mercantile. It would be an easy, pleasant evening, with maybe a little hand-warming—if even that. He had pockets, after all—maybe he should just use them.
That was when Shane appeared from the back of the Mercantile and her heart made a leap that caught her off guard. When he opened the car door and got inside, he smelled of soap and masculinity, and he still hadn’t shaven, the dark stubble on his jaw starting to transition into a light beard. “Hi, Candy Cane,” he said in that deep voice of his.
And she felt it in her panties.
And despite herself, thought of holiday cheer.
Twelve
“Why, she lights up like a firefly whenever you’re around.”
Mrs. Bailey, It’s a Wonderful Life
Damn—just getting in the car with Candy set off some kind of electric reaction inside Shane. And just seeing her took him back to the other night, to kissing her in the sleigh. It had built up all day between them, so when he’d finally been alone with her, kissing had come naturally, like the obvious thing to do. And it had felt even better than he’d imagined.
“Hi,” she said, sounding a little more timid than you’d expect from a woman who’d asked him out.
She’d kissed a little timidly, too—but maybe it turned out that he’d liked that. The last time he’d connected with a timid woman was . . . never. And maybe that bit of hesitation in the kiss had turned him on. Because she’d kissed him anyway, hesitant or not. And then she’d let go of the shyness altogether—at least for a few hot, sweet minutes. And it had felt like a . . . reward. A prize. Like something she didn’t do with just anybody.
“How are the repairs going?”
“Okay as far as I can tell,” he told her. “Mick seems to think we’re on target to get done by the wedding that’s supposed to happen on Christmas Eve.”
She nodded, smiled. “That’s great. From what I hear, Anita is counting on it—doesn’t want to make alternate plans.” She was turning the car around, pulling back out onto the street, but glanced over at him to ask, “Have you met Anita or Chief Tolliver?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
And just the quick flash of eye contact, even in the low, late-day light of winter, rekindled some of that electricity. Made him remember thinking her gasp when he’d suggested Grampy arrive at the party in his sleigh was the prettiest he’d ever heard. But when he’d first kissed her—no, turned out that was the prettiest gasp he’d ever heard.
“You should come to the wedding,” she suggested. “Since you’re helping to get the church ready and all.”
But he shook his head. “I don’t even know them. And it’s not like I expect an invitation.”
“Weddings are pretty all-inclusive around here and you’d be welcome. They’re both very grateful to everyone who’s pitching in to make this happen.”
But besides the fact that it sounded strange to him to go to a wedding of someone he didn’t know, he had a bigger reason to decline. “Can’t anyway. I need to be headed south by Christmas Eve or I won’t have a job.”
As they approached town square, the brightly lit tree coming into view, she asked, “What kind of job is it?” But she sounded tentative, like maybe she somehow knew, sensed, that it might not be your normal, everyday kind of employment.
“I do parts and body work on cars,” he said. “It’s a parts job.” And he left it at that. Since he didn’t know much more. Since he was still hoping the situation would turn out okay. Even if the truth was . . . well, the job had sounded good when he was back in Montana making plans, but that last phone call with Donnie V. had left him with some niggling doubts. And he didn’t really want to encourage more questions about it.
A few days ago, he wouldn’t have given a shit if she or anyone else here thought poorly of him, but now, he realized, he didn’t want that. For some reason he couldn’t quite grasp, people here seemed to like him. And he guessed he couldn’t see any reason to spoil their delusions.
She stayed quiet as they drove on, maybe not quite buying his answer. Maybe he hadn’t sounded very convincing.
Which took him back to those kisses—how she’d suddenly gotten nervous and pulled back, big-time. And when he’d taken a shot and invited her in, he’d understood—yeah, she really didn’t do this, kiss or anything else, with just anybody.
And that was a letdown—he thought it could be really good between them if she’d just relax and let it happen. But it had also reminded him who he was dealing with: the woman who’d acted like he was an ax murderer for most of the time they’d known each other.
So it had shocked the hell out of him when she’d called over to him, invited him to this snow thing—or cat thing; whatever the hell it was. And it made him wonder . . . if maybe deep down inside, she wanted to relax, wanted him to help her relax. And that idea turned him on, too.
He didn’t normally get turned on by mere ideas. Or prim women. But there was something about Candy that made him keep noticing her. Maybe it was her perky little ponytails—though he liked that tonight she’d let her hair down. Or maybe it was the way she blushed and blinked when she was nervous. Or . . . maybe it was the way he’d caught her looking at him on more than one occasion when she thought he didn’t see. And those sleigh ride kisses had confirmed that she was just as into him as he was into her.
Even if they might not seem to fit together.
Hell, maybe that was the fun part, the part that had him getting a little hard right now even just riding next to her in the car.
“So this thing we’re going to,” he asked. “I know you explained it to me, but . . . what is it again?” He squinted slightly.
“A snowcat-building contest,” she said slowly, as if he might be a little thickheaded. “People are building snowcats right now, and then they’ll be judged, and prizes awarded.”
“Snowcats,” he repeated. “Got it.” As if that was normal.
When they arrived at Creekside Park near Edna’s orchard, though, the parking lot was packed, and Shane realized that apparently in Destiny, Ohio snowcats were normal. Or they at least drew a crowd anyway.
According to the signs, the event was sponsored by the Under the Covers bookstore. And as they got out and walked into the event on paths cleared in the snow, he took in numerous teams of two building . . . yep, cats made of snow.
There were big cats and small cats, standing cats and sleeping cats, cartoon cats, and very serious-looking cats. In addition to the cats, there was the requisite hot chocolate stand, as well as a booth to buy funnel cakes and a table filled with baked goods for sale, run by the Destiny Bulldogs cheerleaders. Small pine trees in the park had been strung with colored lights and strands of bigger white bulbs draped from temporary light poles overhead along the path.
“Shane, buddy, what’s up?” Logan Whitaker asked as they passed by him. Then he addressed Candy. “You keepin’ this guy in line or what?”
Next to him, Candy blinked. “Um—or what,” she said uncertainly, and easygoing Logan laughed.
“Heard what you did for Grampy—taking him a tree. Good man,” he said, slapping Shane on the back.
Shane bit back the urge to remind Logan it might take more than that to make a good man, and next thing he knew, he caught sight of Duke Dawson up the way, who’d spotted him, too. “Hey, there’s Shane.” He was with a beautiful, dark-haired woman with Christmas red lips, to whom he said, “Honey, have you met Shane Dalton? He’s been helping out in town.”
They exchanged pleasantries, Candy joining in on the conversation as Duke introduced his girlfriend, Anna—and then Amy Whitaker joined them, looking bright-eyed and excited. “Isn’t this great, you guys? Can you believe this turnout? And have you seen the cats people are making? They’re all adorable!”
Soon enough, though, the small crowd dispersed, and Shane and Candice headed for the hot chocolate stand—where Shane made a point
of paying—after which they started taking in the snowcat construction. And he couldn’t deny that Amy was right, some of the cats were damn impressive. Adam Becker and a young girl Shane learned was his girlfriend’s daughter were creating a cat as tall as him. Candy pointed out another being built by Adam’s twin sons. At least two dozen cats were being carved and shaped from the snow, with even Mike and Lucky Romo constructing one that looked like it would give Adam’s a run for his money.
As they walked along, more people he’d met—and some he hadn’t—greeted them, including him like he was a lifelong resident of Destiny. Sometimes this place—or the people here, more particularly—threw him. Why were they so nice? So damn trusting? For all they knew, he’d rob them blind while they slept. For all they knew, he was what Candy had worried he was that night in the blizzard—someone to be wary of. But no one treated him that way.
Once they’d thrown away their empty hot chocolate cups, he found himself jamming his cold hands in his pockets—which urged him to ask the woman next to him, “Gonna keep my hands warm again, Candy Cane?”
She cast him a sideways glance that appeared unsettled at best—then drew her gaze away and blinked. “People would talk,” she told him.
He cocked a grin her way. “What would they say?”
“They’d think . . . we’re on a date. That we’re, like, a couple.”
He shrugged. The truth was, as tight knit as this community seemed, he understood why she might not want that. So he said, “Fair enough. But who knows—maybe later I’ll get lucky with those mittens of yours. Pink tonight, I see.” He raised his eyes back to hers. “How many pairs of mittens do you own?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Pretty many. I like mittens.”
“They’re cute on you,” he told her. He thought pretty much anything was cute on his Candy Cane.
“Well, howdy there, son,” Grampy greeted him from behind then, and he turned to see the old man standing next to Edna and wearing a big smile. “If it ain’t my Christmas tree delivery crew, all in one place again.”
