Page 56 of What Happens This Christmas
She shimmered beside me like a million tiny stars in the night sky. She was wearing a red sequin dress that I’d swear was designed in the bowels of hell to torture me and make me want to get down on my knees.
I considered reaching out to try to touch her hand that was positioned neatly in her lap atop her purse, but thought better of it.
I even considered trying to talk to her, but her red-painted lips had the appearance of thin slits, so again, I thought better of it.
If dinner with my mother hadn’t gone like it had, I wondered how different this car ride would have been. Certainly she would have heard me try my hand at the piano. We could have talked about that. I could have touched her with fingers that tickled the ivory keys.
Oh, screw it.I reached out without another thought and rested a hand on her thigh. The slit in her dress giving me the perfect opportunity to touch her. My eyes met hers, searching for approval, which I didn’t get. Instead, she looked down, her hazel eyes melting, but only for a brief second before hardening again.Jesus, woman.
She swept her hand to her side and pulled her coat closer around her body, essentially brushing my hand off her and denying me any further opportunity to touch her. Her actions caused my heart to constrict in my chest.
Forget wishing I had a glass of whiskey. If I was wishing for things, then I wished for an ice pick so I could chisel away some of what was keeping Candy locked away from me.
Thankfully, my misery was coming to a halt. The driver finally pulled up to the music hall, thereby ending the car ride from hell, no matter how brief it had been.
Walking in, I allowed my interest to be piqued by the most pedestrian shit just to give me an excuse to stop staring at Candy. Thinking about Candy. Wanting Candy.
“I wonder if the dancers will wear those lovely dresses that resemble presents this year as one of their costumes,” she said randomly as a flock of people ran around us.
Part of me wondered if she was just talking for the sake of talking, impaling the silence with useless words. She should’ve known that not only did I not give a shit, but I had no fucking clue how to respond to that. “Are we early?” I decided to ask in response. Just as random, but also something I genuinely wondered.
She fussed with the long gloves on her hands, the fabric catching my eyes as she focused on them with such intensity. “No, I don’t believe so. Although, you’re the one with a watch,” she reminded me, looking up and going to point at my wrist. Instead, she pointed over my shoulder. “Look.”
Following her finger with my eyes, I turned around but didn’t see anything worthy of seeing. I swung my gaze back to Candy. “Wha—”
Just then, a life-sized gingerbread figurine got up close and personal with me, and I saw tiny, colorful gumdrops dancing over my head right before I fell to the ground. Even a loud scream from Candy was unable to tether me to the here and now as my eyes flickered closed.
* * *
Coming to, I looked around at all the faces shoved up in mine. It was quite the sight—scary actually, minus Candy’s stunning one.
Candy cleared her throat and ceased waving her delicate hand over my face. “It’s okay,” she announced, her expression relaxing. “He’s okay.”
Slowly, one by one, the ugly mugs started retreating, and I was able to zero in on the pain I felt in the back of my head. It matched the pain I felt on my forehead. Probably from being clocked in the head by a…gingerbread man. Goddamn holiday cookie I officially loathed with every fiber of my being.
I meant it, I hated gingerbread. The entire cookie was being written off. The decoration. Anything that involved gingerbread could kiss my ass.
Bent over me, Candy’s lips curled up in a sweet smile. It was touching, really. It would have been more touching if I didn’t want to find the jackass responsible for clocking me with a figurine and hithimover the head with it. “People wereworried,” she said, her voice soothing and breaking into my thoughts.
“People are nosy.” It was ironic none of those people worked for the production company or the venue, otherwise I was sure we’d be peppered with questions all getting to the fact that they wanted to avoid a lawsuit. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. That was the very last idiotic thing I needed. Employees sweating, lips flapping, jaws twitching, it would have all made sense and been to be expected, but that didn’t mean I wanted to deal with it.
“They were probably just mesmerized.”
“Yes. I hear a man lying on the floor is the next best thing to sex in the back of a cab,” I replied dryly. “Really entertaining and a reason for mouths to hang open.”
She swatted my chest, looking heavenward before staring back at me. “Mesmerized by the fact that you are by far the most handsome unconscious man.”
I brought a hand to the back of my head as I started to sit up on the cold marble floor. “You can keep the compliments coming,” I said, my nerves suddenly feeling like they’d been touched at the ends by a flame.
Candy shrugged and brushed my hair back, kneeling on the floor now in her fancy dress and coat. “It wasn’t intended to be a compliment.”Lie.She helped me up, leaning me against her slender torso. “Are you okay?”
Slowly, I let my gaze swing around the now empty entry hall, quite unlike the way it’d been when we’d walked in. Finally, I nodded and made a move to stand up, Candy’s hand never leaving my arm.
“Good,” she finally commented, clearly taking this as a sign that I was indeed okay. Then, as if she was being controlled by a switch, she flipped on me—from caring and compassionate to cold and annoyed again. Her grip on my arm dropped, and she turned on her heel, walking to the door.
“Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?” I asked, not hiding my confusion. As she stepped outside into the snowy evening, I quickly followed her. “Candy, don’t walk away from me.”
Outside, I turned around, looking for her, and found her standing on the sidewalk, bending down and picking up a ball of snow. Compacting it in her glove-covered hands, she turned to face me.
