Page 13 of Sugar Squared

I smiled at Camille, and she took that as agreement. When I was alone again at the window, I let my gaze drift over the tableau outside. Groups of kids circled the square, wielding their trash picker-uppers just as they had the last couple of months. But no sign of their ringleader.

I turned away from the window, tucked my phone in my back pocket, and headed to the tiny office. With my arms loaded up with my purse and an empty cake carrier, I headed out the back door to where my car was parked. But a few minutes and several tries later, my car wouldn’t turn over. The alley where I parked was shared by all the businesses and several cars lingered. Lights from the backdoors and street lamps amply lit the strip, so I hopped out and stood beside myreliableHonda.

Suddenly, a little body appeared at the end of the alleyway. “Ms. Rae!”

I smiled as Timmy galloped toward me. “Hey, Timmy. Finishing up for the night?”

“Yes, ma’am. Mom’s here to pick me up, but she wanted me to return your hat and say thank you for letting me wear it all day.”

He reached me, swiping the blue and gray beanie from his blond head and passing it over. His gaze darted behind me to my car. “You having trouble?”

I looked over my shoulder to where my car sat, looking completely normal. How could he tell? “Yeah,” I said, surprise in my voice.

“You should get Hoss. He can fix it.”

My cheeks heated, but I nodded. “I might have to do that. You go on, now. I’ll figure my car out, don’t worry.”

The boy grinned, then whirled on a sneakered foot to tear back to his mother’s idling car at the end of the alley.

Enough people and cars circled the square and shops that I didn’t feel uneasy, but something about Timmy’s appearance and instruction to find Hoss sparked a hint of disquiet in my belly. But the boy was right. Hoss was a good guy and I had faith he wouldn’t leave me stranded. Worse came to worst, I’d call a car service.

Grabbing my keys from my bag, I cut back through the bakery and out the front door again. I headed toward the picnic tables that seemed to be his HQ in the square. There I found Shepherd Landon cleaning and packing up. When I asked about Hoss, he pointed to the caboose. “He’s changing back into civilian clothes.”

“You guys left him working as Santa all night?”

The handsome hockey player laughed. “Sure did. Guy deserved a break.”

I laughed that this guy considered playing Santa to a million kids a “break”, but waved as I moved on toward the caboose. Where earlier tonight I’d had some of the hottest kisses in the history of ever. The man sure knew how to get a rise out of me in more ways than one.

Butterflies fluttered in my belly, putting a tremble in my hand as I grasped the rail to pull myself up the steps and to the door. Someone had decorated the caboose with festive lights. They circled the top, the windows, even the door. Bright and cheerful and chasing away my unwelcome apprehension.

I knocked, which felt weird, but I didn’t want to barge in on a giant of man in the middle of changing clothes and catch him off-guard.

“It’s open.”

Of course it was. Broken lock.

I pulled the door open and stepped inside. Darkness shrouded the interior, the only illumination coming from the Christmas lights shining in the tiny square windows dotting the sides of the caboose. Hoss stood in the center, down to a plain white undershirt and jeans, the Santa uniform piled on an old desk.

Within the confines of the caboose, Kyle’s size seemed amplified. He towered over me, and I’d never been a tiny woman, especially not when I wore my heels. But standing before him now, I felt dainty and protected in a way I’ve never experienced with another man.

J.T.’s words and the unease they’d stirred in me faded away.

“I was just getting ready to text you. You had dinner?”

I shook my head, sucking my lower lip between my teeth. Dinner, even my malfunctioning car, did not rate high on my list right now. He’d teased me with that kiss earlier tonight, taunted me with possibilities, and suddenly I wanted more kisses, more touches. Even in the shadows, his broad chest called to me, his tee pulled taut over the thick muscles of his pecs.

“I know players have to be in good shape to play hockey,” I said. “But, really, your muscles have muscle. I think you might make me a fan.”

He laughed and his abs danced under his shirt and, as though he exuded a gravitational pull, I moved closer. I stopped a breath away, settled my fingers atop his chest. He sucked in a deep breath, but didn’t move to stop me. Instead, he grasped my hand, lifting it until my palm rested against his lips. He pressed a warm kiss to the center and I swear I felt that simple touch ricochet through my body.

“I’m all about building the sport, Rae. But the only one you’re allowed to fangirl over is me.”

Chapter Six

Kyle

RaelynnKennedycouldwreckme. The realization hit hard and fast and I didn’t have time to process it before she leaned up to replace her palm with her lips, warm against mine. I’ve never been possessive, but just the idea of her admiring another man stirred a dangerous emotion in me. I’d rather keep her so happy and so busy and so wrapped up in me, she never noticed another man for the remainder of her days.

---