Christmas Candy(7)

“Thanks.”

I open my door and relish the warmth as I step across the threshold. Turning back to him, I take the boxes and place them on the small side table in the foyer.

He stands in the cold and gives me a rueful look as the snow falls behind him. “Thanks for letting me walk you.”

The urge to invite him in shoots through me, but I refuse to give in to it. Just because I’m in a years-long dry spell doesn’t mean I need to make a fool of myself with Hank. Besides, our little chat may have changed the way I think about him, but it doesn’t change the fact that his business doesn’t belong across the street from mine, right?

From the safety of my house, I stare into his eyes, looking for some sign of duplicity, but all I see there is interest and the flicker of something else, something hot. Jesus. The way he’s looking at me—as if he’s hungry—makes me press my thighs together.

I have to stop this train before it goes off the rails. “Thanks again for the food. The senior center will be grateful.” I grab the door, signaling that it’s time for him to go.

“No need to thank me.” He gives me the smile that always electrified me in high school. “I’d do anything for you.” He turns on his heel and heads back down the front walk.

My jaw goes slack, and I can’t think of a reply. I’d do anything for you. His words echo in my mind as I close the door and stare out the side window until he disappears down the street.





Olive





Grampa Barnes pats my ass as I try to hurry past him and set up the rest of the food on the banquet table. A smattering of elderly senior center residents mill around and drink eggnog or juice while reminiscing about Christmases past.

“Looking good, young lady.” Grampa Barnes grins at me and rolls his wheelchair toward the bingo area.

“He already got you, huh?” Candace arranges a tray of cheese straws as Mrs. Black futzes with a green and red ribbon at the end of the table.

“Twice.” I roll my eyes and take out the last of Hank’s shortbread cookies from the box.

“Missed you this morning.” Candace pops a candied pecan into her mouth.

“Sorry.” I’d avoided our morning coffee date, claiming I needed more time to get ready for the senior center event. Really, I had to make a few phone calls about a certain unsafe condition at the candy shop. A twinge of guilt shoots through me, but I push it away. Hank had been nice—and if I’m being honest with myself, I’d enjoyed our talk—but business is business.

“I wanted to discuss a certain someone with you. A certain fellow with tight buns and killer good looks.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst.” I finish with the table and straighten up before smoothing my holiday green sweater-dress over my hips.

“You are smokin’ today, by the way.” Candace looks down at her flowy white shirt and dark leggings. “I went for more of a frump vibe.”

“Shut up. You look fine. And I can tell you’re losing weight. Planking does a body good.”

She smirks, her bright pink lips twisting up on one side. “Yeah, well I can tell you my ass is sore from all the—”

“Ladies, who’s in charge of the bingo?”

“Olive.” Candace spits out the answer before I can peg her with the honor. Shit.

Mrs. Black bustles past, the smell of baby powder and some sort of cloying perfume warring with the senior center’s lingering disinfectant scent. “Let’s get to it. Mrs. Hawthorne is already snoring on her playing card.”

I scan the four rows of tables full of silver-haired people talking, sleeping, or staring into space. Christmas bingo, fun times.

“Get to it.” Candace grins and motions toward the table at the front of the room.

“Jerk.”

“Oh, you love it.” She leans into me and grabs a cookie.

“Sorry I’m late.” A man’s voice.

I turn to find Hank strolling toward me. He’s dressed in a blue and green plaid shirt and a pair of worn, nicely fitting, blue jeans. His smile makes something pop inside me, like a dam breaking.

“Hank.” It sounds dumb, but I’ve got nothing else. I can’t look away from him. It certainly doesn’t help that I had trouble sleeping last night, mainly because I spent at least an hour fantasizing about what would have happened if I’d invited him in.

I want to treat Hank like a piece of black licorice, but instead, he appeals to me the same as one of those candy apples on his counter.

“Hank!” Candace opens her arms and gives him a hug that lasts for far too long.

He pats her on the back and gives me a quizzical look until she pulls away.