Our Now and Forever (Ardent Springs #2) (13 page)

And how she should do that was to buy a bigger ad. “Are you doing the Buy Local promotion again? That did well last Christmas.”

The paper had created a full-page ad the previous year dedicated to encouraging readers to invest their hard-earned money into local businesses, instead of driving down to Nashville to hit the big stores, or making the majority of their purchases on the Internet. Each local business had the opportunity to contribute a relatively small amount to be included in the promotion.

Piper finished off a chocolate chip cookie before responding. “We’re definitely doing that again, but it’s going to take more than your name included in a mass ad to let our readers know of the treasures you have here.” The empty plate returned to the shelf as Piper added, “You’ve got one-of-a-kind stuff in this place, Snow. And a much bigger inventory than you had this time last year. People need to know that.”

Snow supposed she was right. Though the shop benefited from its central location on the corner of a major downtown intersection not far from the town square, which, ironically, was round, there was less foot traffic in the winter. Buyers needed a reason to visit the store.

On a sigh, Snow said, “Why don’t you draw me up some sort of Christmas marketing plan and we can talk about it.”

Pausing in brushing crumbs from her cleavage, Piper looked up. “Are you serious?”

With a nod, Snow said, “I am. I’m not promising I’ll spend a lot, but you’re right. I need to advertise more, especially this time of year.”

“Brilliant!” Piper exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. “I’ll have a full plan drawn up for our meeting next week.”

Snow had half expected the saleswoman to demand they sit down and work something up right then. “Oh,” she said. “Okay. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

“You’re going to love it. Now I have to get back to the office.” The flamboyant woman shifted her abundant hips through a narrow opening between two large displays. “A new guy started at the paper this morning, and he is delicious.” She glanced at her phone. “He’s following Gerald around, and that means they’ll do a midday check-in within fifteen minutes. Bless that old man’s heart, you could set your watch by his schedule.”

This sounded like good news to Snow. Another new arrival might take the gossip heat off of her and Caleb.

“A new guy as in a new hire, or new to town?” she asked, hoping it was the latter.

Piper tapped her chin. “I’ve never seen him before, so I’m thinking new to town, but I didn’t get as much time with him as I wanted. He’s young, tall, and hot as all get-out,” she said. Piper wiggled her brows. “And no wedding ring. That means he’s fair game.”

A trickle of concern danced along Snow’s spine. That description matched her husband to a tee, but then young, tall, and hot weren’t exactly specifics.

“How was he dressed?” Snow asked, hoping against hope the answer would not be jeans and a red button-up shirt.

Warming to her topic, Piper said, “Oh, honey, let me tell you. The boy fills out a pair of jeans like he was born to wear them. I made sure I got a good look, and I’d bet my best push-up bra that you could bounce a quarter off those cheeks, and I don’t mean the ones above his neck. The red button-down was simple enough, but accentuated those broad shoulders to the point that I nearly wept.” With a wink, she added, “If I have my way, that boy will be the present under my tree, and wearing nothing but a red bow I plan to untie
real slow
.”

Snow was too stunned to say any of the million things running through her mind. A wave of jealousy smacked her like a bucket of ice water, while anger bubbled up over Caleb not telling her he was taking a job with the local paper. He hadn’t even mentioned the newspaper.

Was he planning to surprise her?
“Hi, honey, I’m home. Guess what I did today? I got a job!”

And was Snow supposed to be happy? Relieved? Proud of her ultra-rich husband sinking low enough to take a salesman position with a paper that would be a joke in his father’s media conglomerate world?

She was torn between ripping Piper’s eyes out for fantasizing about her man, and the urge to follow Piper back to the paper and order her husband to go home.

As Snow stewed, Piper stepped through the front door into the November sunshine, yelling, “See you next week!” She was off to see her client’s tall and hunky husband, who had apparently failed to mention he had a wife. Or a fiancée, rather, since they were keeping the wife thing a secret. For now.

In that moment, Snow wanted nothing more than to claim Caleb as her own. To make sure every woman within a hundred miles knew the gorgeous man with the tight jeans and blazing blue eyes was very much
off
-limits.

Instead, she went back to straightening her suitcases and simmered, grinding her jaw tight enough to rub her teeth to dust. Mr. McGraw would have some serious explaining to do to Mrs. McGraw this evening.

Chapter 13

By three in the afternoon, Caleb was in dire need of a shower, and he never wanted to see a cup of coffee again in his life. He’d witnessed Gerald Nichols drink from some of the nastiest cups on the planet. At one tire joint in town, the sales manager pulled a used paper cup from the bottom drawer of an old metal desk and proceeded to fill it with what could best be described as black sludge. Then he drank the concoction without so much as an eye twitch.

Of course, a man who smoked as much as Gerald probably didn’t have any taste buds left. Hence, Caleb’s need for a shower. He smelled as if he’d been stuck in a chimney for a week.

They’d been on the road all day, with one brief stop at the office for lunch. A meal that consisted of Gerald putting down his cigarette long enough to chow down a roast beef sandwich he’d brought from home, and Caleb attempting to keep at least three feet between himself and Piper Griffin. He’d swear the woman had four hands. When he couldn’t scoot his chair over any more without putting himself into the hallway, Caleb mentioned that he couldn’t wait to get home and tell his fiancée all about his new job.

That seemed to slow Piper’s attack, but not end it. She dropped the not-so-subtle hint that a man was free until the vows were spoken, and it had taken everything Caleb had not to confess the truth right then and there.

“That was our last call of the day,” Gerald said, as the pair climbed into his white 2000 Buick. Caleb wondered if the interior had been black upon purchase, or if all the smoke accumulated over fifteen years had turned it that way.

The last call had been with an insurance agent more interested in talking about sports than advertising. Caleb’s new mentor had convinced his client to double his holiday ad spending from the previous year. Insurance wasn’t exactly the type of business that experienced a boom from Christmas shopping, but that hadn’t stopped Gerald.

The man might be as old as dirt, smoke two packs a day, and drink the most disgusting coffee ever brewed, but he knew how to sell advertising.

“Do you typically visit five clients a day?” Caleb asked, adding to the mental notes he’d been taking. “How far in advance do you set up these appointments?”

Gerald shook his head after lighting another cigarette. “I see the same clients on the same days at the same time every week. There is no appointment setting.”

He’d heard of a stringent schedule, but this seemed extreme. “What about new clients?”

The driver turned to blow smoke out the window before answering. “In case you haven’t noticed, Ardent Springs isn’t very big. The concept of new clients doesn’t come into play much.” Asking his first somewhat personal question of the day, Gerald said, “How long have you been here?”

“Since Saturday afternoon,” Caleb answered. “I came to live with my fiancée.” When he’d mentioned the word during lunch, Gerald didn’t seem to notice.

“I thought you were making that up to get Piper off your tail,” he said, revealing the older man paid more attention than he let on.

Caleb shook his head as he leaned toward his open window, desperate for clean air. “No, I was serious. We haven’t made it official, with rings and all, but Snow and I are together.”

Gray brows shot up a long forehead. “Snow of Snow’s Curiosity Shop?”

With such an unusual name, Caleb would have thought the answer was obvious. “One and the same.”

A low chuckle filled the car. “That should make your life interesting.”

“How so?” Caleb asked, curious what Gerald Nichols might know about his wife.

Tipping his ashes out the window, Gerald gave Caleb a bright, denture-perfect smile. “Snow is Piper’s client. I believe they have a standing Monday visit.”

Caleb hadn’t told Piper who his fiancée was, and he hadn’t told Snow he was taking a job at the paper. Mostly because he wasn’t aware of the fact himself when he’d left the house this morning.

“Do you think . . . ?”

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Gerald said, looking more entertained than he had all day. “If I know Piper, and I should since I’ve worked with her for fifteen years, you might want to pick up flowers on your way home.”

“Right,” Caleb said. “I might do that.”

Snow’s afternoon had bounced between fleeting images of Piper Griffin bouncing spare change off her husband’s bottom, and a nearly uncontrollable urge to call said husband and tell him exactly what she thought of his new situation. The biggest thing keeping her from making the phone call was the fact that Snow had no idea how she felt about anything at the moment.

The day had started well enough. She had a plan. Her life would be back to normal before Christmas. But then Snow had learned that Caleb spent the day putting lusty fantasies into the minds of who knew how many Ardent Springs residents of the female persuasion. A revelation that turned Snow a shade of green she neither welcomed nor liked to acknowledge.

But dammit, she was jealous.

This was her husband’s fault. Not that she ever truly forgot his physical attributes, but he’d made her like him as a person. To appreciate his strength, sense of humor, and gentle nature. If he were nothing more than a pretty face, she wouldn’t be wanting to punch Piper Griffin in the throat right now.

Oh, yes. Caleb was definitely to blame.

Arriving home at the end of her day, she was prepared to let her husband have the full brunt of her disapproval, until she entered the apartment and the scent of fried chicken filled her senses. Not just any fried chicken, but Granny’s fried chicken.

This meal could not have come from Miss Hattie.

“Am I smelling what I think I’m smelling?” Snow asked, dropping her purse into a chair and then tossing her coat over the back. “There’s no way you’ve made Granny’s fried chicken.” Even as she said the words, Snow’s mouth watered.

“Hey there,” Caleb said, turning from the stove and dropping a kiss on Snow’s cheek. He was wearing the frilly yellow apron that had been hanging on the pantry door when Snow moved in. The man was wearing a freaking apron. “I doubt it’s as good as the real thing,” he said, “but I followed the recipe exactly. So you think it smells like your granny’s version?”

Smelled like it. Looked like it. If it tasted like it, Snow would happily renew their vows tomorrow.

“But how . . .”

Caleb placed a juicy-looking drumstick on a plate next to a mound of green beans and a large helping of mashed potatoes. “I called your mom.”

“Mama gave you Granny’s recipe? That recipe has never been shared outside the family.”

Her aproned spouse looked her way. “I
am
family, remember?”

Snow cringed at having to be reminded. “Right. But still . . . You know how to cook?”

“I cooked for you when we were dating,” he replied, sliding a sizzling thigh next to the leg. “We need to work on that selective memory of yours.”

When they were dating, Caleb often made breakfast, but making scrambled eggs and toast was much different from making one of Granny’s recipes. It had taken Snow years to get her fried chicken even close to Granny’s, and hers never smelled this good.

“There’s cooking, and then there’s
cooking
,” Snow said, leaning over the plate Caleb slid down the counter to make room for the next one. She closed her eyes and was sucked back in time, standing on a chair in Granny’s kitchen, begging for an early taste. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Handing her a fork and napkin, Caleb said, “In my quest to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up, I did a semester at culinary school. I guess I retained more than I realized.”

This man was full of surprises. “You never told me that.”

“I would have,” he said, lifting both plates and motioning for Snow to sit down in the living room, “if we’d kept dating. So, now that we’re back to dating, I’m telling you.”

As she mindlessly followed Caleb’s direction, her brain struggling to process this new tidbit about her significant other, Snow spotted a beautiful arrangement of flowers on the coffee table, flanked by tall taper candles. She recognized the candleholders from Miss Hattie’s dining room.

“I’d prefer an actual table, but since there’s no room for one of those in this little space, the coffee table is the best I can do.”

Flowers. Candles. Her favorite meal.

Caleb knew she knew.

Instead of sitting down, Snow faced her doting husband with hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were taking a job at the paper? You didn’t even tell me you were applying.”

“Please,” Caleb said, “sit down and let me explain.” His calm tone put a damper on Snow’s anger. When she did as asked, he said, “Thank you,” and handed her the full plate of food. “Yesterday, Hattie asked if I knew anything about the newspaper business, and when I said I knew a bit, she told me to report to an address at nine this morning.”

“So this is Miss Hattie’s fault?” Snow asked, amazed that he would shift the blame to an innocent old woman.

“Not fault, but her doing, yes. She gave me the address but never said why I needed to be there. I figured it had to do with newspapers, but not actually working for one. I could have been hauling stacks of papers off a truck for all I knew.”

Snow felt her shoulders relax. The explanation made sense. And Miss Hattie did have a way of parsing out information. “You had no idea? None at all?”

“None.” Caleb loaded green beans and potatoes onto his fork. “I didn’t even know who to ask for. Turns out, the local paper, which Hattie owns . . . Did you know she owned the paper?”

“No,” Snow said. How had she missed that in all the town gossip?

“Well, I didn’t either,” Caleb said after he’d chewed his food. “Turns out, the chain-smoking sales manager, who as far as I can tell has been around since possibly the Civil War, is retiring at the end of the year.”

“And you’re going to take his place?”

“Not as a manager. At least not to start.” Caleb kept his eyes on his plate as he said, “It’s a trial period right now. They get to see if they like me, and I get to see if I like them.”

Snow pushed off thinking about his new roots in her town long enough to take her first bite of chicken. By all that was good and holy in this world, Caleb’s chicken was as delicious as Granny’s. Maybe even better. She’d have felt guilty for entertaining such a disloyal thought, but her taste buds were running the show, and they felt no remorse whatsoever.

“By that look on your face, I’m guessing the chicken is good?” Caleb asked.

“Words cannot describe how good this is.” Snow dragged her mind back to the subject at hand. Caleb had mentioned a trial period. Eventually becoming a manager . . . “Wait. Did you let them think that you’re staying in Ardent Springs?”

Caleb shrugged, continuing to avoid eye contact. “I didn’t make any long-term promises.”

“But you didn’t tell them that you have no intention of keeping this job.” Snow set her plate on the table. “What are they going to do when the other guy retires, you leave, and they’re stuck with no one to fill the position?”

Snow would have enough explaining to do as it was, without Caleb pretending to become a permanent part of this community.

Stabbing three green beans in a row, Caleb pointed his fork Snow’s way. “The better question is, why are you acting as if my leaving town is a foregone conclusion? What do you know that I don’t?”

Caleb wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but by the look on Snow’s face, there was definitely something he didn’t know.

“I don’t know anything,” Snow answered, regaining her dinner and sitting back on the couch. She kept her eyes on her plate as she said, “We both know this isn’t your kind of town. You said so yourself. Baton Rouge is your home.”

“I also said that wherever you are is where I will be. You’re here, so I’m here.” Caleb assured himself that Snow was the only reason he was developing a connection with the area. He didn’t want to leave
her
. The town had nothing to do with it.

In a low voice, Snow mumbled, “It isn’t as if I’m the only woman in town who’s interested.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Snow said, her voice higher than usual as she continued to avoid his gaze. “It just seems as if you’ve made a powerful impression on one of your coworkers.”