Sex, Lies and Mistletoe (21 page)

“I’m not very good company right now,” she demurred, rubbing her hands over the velvet of her skirt and wishing she were wearing sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt. Something innocuous to hide behind. Although, if she was going to do some wishing, she should put all her falling stars and birthday candles toward having washed her tear-stained face instead of answering the door looking like a sad raccoon.

“I’m not looking for entertainment,” Caleb said, shrugging before leaning one broad shoulder against the door frame. Catching the arch look she shot him, he grinned. “I’m not looking for that, either.”

“Oh, really?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no if you decided to strip naked and paint my name across your body in this fudge sauce before inviting me to lick it off.” He waited for Pandora’s laugh before continuing, “But that’s not what this is about. I’m just here as…as…”

Pandora swallowed hard to get past the lump of emotions suddenly clogging her throat. “As?”

“As a friend.”

The only thing that kept the tears from leaking down her face was fear of adding another layer to the raccoon effect. Instead, Pandora sniffed surreptitiously and stepped aside to let him in.

“How’d you know I needed a friend tonight?” she asked as Caleb crossed the room. “Better yet, how’d you know my mother wasn’t still here?”

“She stopped by the party.” He gave her a quick look, something shuttered in his eyes making her wonder if he’d had his own parental confrontation. “She looked a little stressed herself, so I figured I’d check on you.”

So Cassiopeia had decided to skip the crystals and cards and had sent in a sexy ego boost instead. Too dejected to even fake being a good hostess, Pandora dumped two bowls on the table. Caleb, jacket gone and his shirtsleeves rolled up, scooped big fat mounds of vanilla-bean ice cream into them.

Her frustration and hurt feelings shifted, sliding into second place behind her sudden urge to lick hot fudge off his knuckle. Her body warmed, excitement stirring at the sight of Caleb’s hands. So strong. So big. So wonderfully good at sending her into a fog of desire where she could forget everything except him and the pleasure he brought.

“What?” he said, noting her stare.

“Just realizing something,” she said, color warming her cheeks.

“Again… What?”

“You have magic hands,” Pandora admitted despite her embarrassment. “I knew they felt incredible. I’ve had plenty of proof of their copious talents. But I didn’t realize until just now that they are magic.”

Caleb’s grin was huge as he plopped sloppy globs of whipped cream on top of the fudge-covered ice cream. “Magic, huh?”

“Yep.” Pandora pulled one of the bowls toward her, grabbing a spoon with the other hand.

She suddenly felt a million times better.

“Tell me more,” he invited, stashing what was left of dessert in the freezer. He joined her at the table, but didn’t sit.

“More, hmm?” she said, giving him a slow, teasing smile as she licked hot fudge off her spoon. The rich, bittersweet flavor slid down her throat. “How about we make it a show-and-tell kind of thing?”

His wicked smile didn’t change, but his eyes did. They sharpened and heated at the same time. He reached out a hand, pulling her to her feet. Then he scooped up his bowl, handing her the other one, and led the way out of the kitchen.

“We’re eating in bed?” she teased as excitement spun and swirled like a snowflake inside her, buffeting through her system and making her breathless with need.

“Too messy,” he deemed, continuing through the living room, one hand wrapped around hers to keep her close. He stopped at the bathroom and glanced in, gave a decisive nod, then turned to her with an arched brow. “Do you have a blanket you don’t mind getting sticky?”

“Sticky?”

“Babe, even if I paint as carefully as I can, my magic hands might drip a little bit before I can lick this hot fudge off your naked body.”

“That’s going to make a mess,” she said, not really caring.

“That’s what bubble bath is for,” he assured her. “I assume you have bubbles.”

Bubbles?

Ten minutes ago she’d been wallowing in misery, sure her life sucked hard. And now? Now she had Caleb, with his tub of vanilla ice cream, his gorgeous smile and an intuitive understanding of her that nobody, not even her best friend, had ever had.

He made her feel so many things. Sexual and passionate. Exciting and fun. Brave and strong and interesting.

But most of all, he made her feel safe. Like it was okay to stand in the middle of the room and make a fool of herself. Like he accepted and appreciated her. All of her.

And now he wanted to feed her dessert, then take a bubble bath with her. Yes, it was sexual. But she knew it was more than that. She could see it in his body language. In the set of his shoulders and the concern on his face.

He was doing it to make her feel better.

“I do have bubbles,” she said, trying not to giggle at the image of the ultramasculine Caleb Black surrounded by frothy floral-scented bubbles.

And from the terrified nerves jumping through her system at her realization. She was in love with him.

That wasn’t the plan. It was crazy. It was a huge mistake. And she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let herself. Not right now. It might not be her path, but it was a wonderful place to be. And just for now, she was going to give herself the gift of enjoying it.

“And I’ll be happy to share my bubbles with you,” she assured him as she grabbed a blanket off the couch and laid it in front of the Christmas tree. “Right after we find out who can get whom stickier.”

“YOU SMELL LIKE FLOWERS,” Fifi observed as Pandora swept into the store the next day. “Is that a new perfume?”

“Bubble bath,” she told the blonde, winking. “I’m going to get started on the cookies and desserts for today’s lunch crowd, okay? Can you handle the store yourself?”

“Russ is in soon, I’ll be fine,” Fifi assured her.

Pandora winced. She’d forgotten Russ was starting today. Adding that to her to-do list, she headed back to the café and its tiny kitchen. As she went, though, she heard the whispers start.

Like a wave, the words flowed toward her, softly at first, then crashing in a big splash.
Caleb Black. Dumped the poor sweet sheriff. What could she be thinking? Poor mother, had to come home to fix it.

Pandora’s feet froze on the threshold of the café. A part of her wanted to turn around and face the gossips. To insist they say it to her face so she could refute their words. The rest of her wanted to run into the back room as fast as she could, tugging her hair as she went to relieve the pressure on her brain.

She wasn’t going to think about it, she decided as she forced her feet to move. She couldn’t. Her mother had told her to choose a path and this was the one she was on. She was in love with Caleb Black. And if that meant dealing with gossip, then she’d deal.

Washing her hands, she let the water trickle over her skin, warming her and easing the tension. Eyes closed, she took some deep breaths and tried to center herself.

Out the kitchen window, a movement caught her eye. Three scruffy-looking guys were arguing in the alley. She frowned, realizing one of them was Russ. What was he doing back there?

Then one of them took a swing at another. She gasped, stepping back and cringing. Before she could go get the phone to call Tobias for help, a fourth guy waded in.

Pandora’s heart calmed. Sheriff Kendall. He’d deal with it. Remembering her mother’s warning about chasing miseries, she turned away. She didn’t want to see, hear or experience anything else that stirred up tension, so she ignored the rest of the drama and got to work. She had cookies to bake, sandwiches to prep and éclairs to pipe.

An hour later, she was still in her Zen mood as she arranged half the cookies on a large silver platter and the others in to-go boxes.

“Darling, this is wonderful,” her mother drawled as she swept into the tiny kitchen, mingling the scent of peanut butter and chocolate with the aroma of Chanel and the nag champa incense she always burned at home. “I love the ambience. And these tables are so adorable. It’s so clever, the way you’ve used the red soy candles in the dish of rose quartz. Love and lust, with just enough liking to keep things from getting sticky, hmm?”

Her Zen shot all to hell, Pandora just shrugged. She knew she was pouting like a brat, but she didn’t want to face her mother yet. She’d been happily distracted by Caleb. Incredible sex and the realization that she was falling in love was enough for any girl to handle for one morning, wasn’t it?

“Darling, don’t be in a snit. You came home for a reason, didn’t you?” As soon as Pandora opened her mouth to say that yes, she’d come home because she needed a job, Cassiopeia waved her hand. “And it had nothing to do with that drama you’d fallen into. That was just an excuse. A crossroads, if you’d like. It was time for you to face your destiny, and fate obviously felt you needed a nudge to get you to do so.”

“Right. Being under police suspicion, used by the man I was sleeping with and then fired from my job were all the work of fate,” Pandora snipped.

“Of course not. Those were all the result of your choices, dear. Not bad or good choices, mind you. Simply ones you made without stopping to listen to your intuition. Fate just used them to move you along.”

“Mom, stop,” Pandora barked, perilously close to tears again. Was anyone on earth as frustrating as her mother? “I obviously have no intuition. So will you please let it go? I’m never going to be what you’d like. I wish you’d just accept that I’m a failure as an Easton so we can both relax.”

Stepping back so fast her rust-and-hunter-green caftan caught on the corner of the counter, Cassiopeia gave a shocked gasp and slapped her hand over her heart. Even though her shoulders were tense with anger and her stomach was tight with stress, Pandora almost giggled. Nobody did the drama show quite like her momma.

“A failure? That’s ridiculous,” Cassiopeia snapped. She lifted her chin so her red curls swept over her shoulders, and crossed her arms over her chest in the same gesture Pandora herself used when she was upset. “Let’s not confuse things here, young lady. You’re not angry with me.”

“No? Care to bet on that?”

“You’re angry with yourself. And with good reason. You can’t blame me for your choices, Pandora. Or for your inability to step up and accept responsibility for making them.”

Pandora felt as if she’d just been punched in the gut and couldn’t find her own breath. Yes, she’d made a mistake. But the mistake was that she’d trusted the wrong person. That she’d fallen in love with the idea of love, and overlooked the warning signs. Blinking tears away, she wanted to yell that she wasn’t irresponsible. But her throat was too tight to get the words out.

“Until you trust yourself, you’ll never see what’s right in front of you,” Cassiopeia said with a regal toss of her curls. “You’re too busy being scared, running and doubting. And, sadly, placing blame instead of having faith in yourself.”

“You have no idea what it’s like,” Pandora snapped. Fury was red, hazing her vision and letting truths fly that she’d spent most of her life hiding from. “I grew up in the shadow of your reputation.”

“And you have a problem with my reputation?” Behind the haughtily raised brows and arch tone, Pandora heard a hint of hurt. But the words were already tumbling off her tongue and she couldn’t quite figure out how to grab them back.

“I couldn’t live up to your reputation, Mother. Nobody could. Especially not with everyone in town poking and judging me, and you always prodding me to find something that we both know damn well doesn’t exist.”

Cassiopeia sagged. As though someone had let the air out of her, her shoulders, face and chin drooped. She gave a huge sigh, then shook her head as if defeated.

“I can’t do this again, Pandora. You refuse to hear me. You snub my guidance while hiding behind your insecurities.” She swept a hand through her hair, leaving the curls a messy tangle around a face that suddenly looked older than her years. “Perhaps it’s my fault. Not, as you seem to think, for being myself. I see nothing wrong with being the best I can and embracing my strengths. But I must have gone wrong somewhere if you’re so afraid of life that you have to blame me.”

Guilt was so bitter on Pandora’s tongue she couldn’t get any words past it. Just as well, since she had no idea what the words would be.

“I’m going home,” her mother declared. “When you’re ready to talk…if you’re ready to talk, I’ll be there for you.”

Pandora didn’t know if she wanted to call her back, to try to fix the mess they’d left splattered between them. Or if she wanted a little time and distance, at least until she figured out what she wanted to say.

But, as usual, it wasn’t up to her. Her mother swept from the room, taking all the choices with her.

“SO WHAT’S THE DEAL? You’re finally willing to talk? Or are you just stopping by to check out the bikes?”

Hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans, Caleb grimaced at his father’s words. He looked around the showroom of the bike shop, noting the gleaming chrome of the custom hogs and a few Indians and shrugged. “They are pretty sweet-looking bikes.”