Christmas Clash (10 page)

She pushed her status with Luke aside and approached the modest counter.

“Hey, Mabel.”

“Hi, dear. The usual?”

Candace nodded and stepped away from the counter as Mabel disappeared behind swinging doors. The coffee shop didn't have an abundance of space, just enough to hold five tables and house a cute leather couch and chair set in one corner. A couple sat by the window and a man read a newspaper on the couch. The man shuffled and she recognized him. James Brand. What was he doing here?
Probably scoping out the land.
Irritating. He should go scope somewhere else. He wasn't getting his hands or plans anywhere near this area. She bit into her lower lip.

I can be friendly.

“James?”

The newspaper crinkled in his hands and she saw his approving smile. “Candace.”

She smiled in return. “Nice to see you again. You picked a great place.” She nodded to his plate with a couple of crumbs and the coffee cup sitting nearby. “Mabel makes the best homemade food.”

“Do you work around here?”

“I own Kiss from a Rose. Next to Luke's pub.”

“I see. He really lucked out in the neighbor department. I take it that's how you met?”

“No, we knew each other from school. Do you live in Casper?”

“No. I'm from Colorado. I met Luke at the University of Wyoming.”

He sure brings up Luke a lot.
“It doesn't seem like you two are on good terms any longer. Or were you ever?”

“We were dorm roommates.”

“And you were the worst roommate in the world? Those socks won't put themselves in the hamper, you know.”

She tsked and he chuckled. James had looks, height, style, and now a great, deep laugh going for him. For a couple of seconds, she couldn't remember why she didn't like him. Oh right, the convention center project. And Luke.

“Luke is a good guy. And we both managed to put our clothes in their rightful places. Our relationship deteriorated after college.” He checked his watch. “Do you have time for a drink?”

The moment of truth. She wanted to know what James knew and if there were any weak points in the council's plan or about the area she could use to her advantage. She glanced in the direction of her shop. “Sure. A quick one, then the flowers beckon. The Pub?” Sophie could hold down the fort.

An invitation for drinks from a handsome man should make her a lot happier. The long workday she'd already put in and the stress of the council vote had taken a toll. She had wanted to start dating again.

What about Luke?

Would getting a drink for professional reasons be cheating on Luke? Nonsense. Her thoughts had turned crazy. Besides, they were going to Luke's pub. She wasn't trying to hide anything from him.

• • •

Luke blinked, but the image of Candace sitting with James at the bar didn't disappear.
What in the hell is she doing?
There was no need to wonder why James was having a drink with Candace, though—he'd always wanted what Luke had.

Luke hadn't stopped thinking about Candace's lips. The memory of her creamy skin under his fingertips was still heating his blood. Except now, he could add gut-punched to the list of things Candace made him feel. He should've expected this low to be coming, but he thought they'd turned a corner. Apparently he was wrong.

Is she seriously out on a date with him?

He filled a glass with the beer he knew his former best friend drank and made a Moscow Mule for Candace, light on the vodka. Very light. There was no way in hell he was going to get her liquored up around James.

“I'm always right,” Luke said as he set their drinks down in front of them.

Candace opened her mouth, her eyebrows came together, then she snapped her lips shut.

“About?” James asked.

“Nothing.” Luke shook his head, not bothering to look at James. Every time he saw James's face, he flashed back to finding him in bed with his ex-girlfriend. Not a pleasant visual.

“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. There 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.