Christmas Clash (15 page)

The five city council members came in through a side door and took their respective seats. Jeffrey Dean didn't waste time. He banged the gavel and called the meeting to order.

“We are all here tonight for the vote on the convention center. We've heard the concerns both for and against at the last meeting and since then.” He singled Candace out with a pointed stare. “Thanks to the additional media coverage, we've all heard quite a bit on the subject.”

Candace glared back at him and clenched her hands tighter in her lap. She wanted to stand up and scream at Dean, but the time for action had passed.

“Do the council members have anything to say before we vote?”

No one spoke.

This was probably the most politically charged vote of their lives. Frank was taking note of how each member voted—not a good indication for the future of the people who voted against her.

“Very well. In the matter of the downtown convention center project being placed on the blocks of A Street from 1500 to 1508”—he looked to the recordkeeper in the back right of the room before continuing—“when I call your name say yea for the convention center being put on A Street from 1500 to 1508, or nay to not have the convention center built on that site. Edward Ford?”

“Yea.”

“Katherine Cline?”

“Nay.”

“Jeffrey Dean? Yea. Glenn Davis?”

“Nay.”

The room as silent. The vote was tied, just as Frank predicted it would be.

“Zoey Graham?”

Candace looked over her shoulder to Luke. This was the moment of truth. All she wanted to hear was a
nay.
Then she would run back to Luke and wrap her arms around him. She returned her gaze to the front of the room.

Zoey looked at Jeffrey with a stone cold face. “Yea.”

Candace couldn't breathe and her head became dizzy.
We failed. They're taking our businesses.
She couldn't process this information. She knew the vote could swing either way, but in the end she still thought she'd win. She was a winner. Losing sucked.

“Let the record show in a three-to-two vote, the convention center project has been approved to be constructed on the downtown block of A Street between 1500 and 1508.” He banged the gavel in front of him.

Candace wanted to take that gavel and beat him senseless with it.

“The businesses that are affected will hear from the city attorney in one week's time on the timeframe of the project.”

The crowd finally broke its silence. There were murmurings and loud talking, but all Candace could do was sit, nothing more, and pray this last month had been one giant hallucination. Someone touched her shoulder and her trance was broken. She looked over to see Mabel's comforting glance.
Why is she comforting me? I should be the one comforting her.
Candace couldn't though. She couldn't speak. Anything she said would sound fake; lying under emotional distress wasn't her strong suit.

She needed to get out of here. Her breath came faster and she couldn't stop it. She needed fresh air. There was nothing more she could do here now. Or ever. The decision had been made. She'd lost. They'd all lost.

She tried her best to smile sympathetically to Mabel and the others she accidentally made eye contact with while leaving.

She pushed open the doors to the building—she was free. She had a short block to her car in the cold. A light white washed the dark sky; snow would be falling any moment. But big, white flakes would not help her mood tonight. She slipped into her car, started it, and fired up the seat warmer. Just as she turned the wheel to maneuver out of her parking spot, she caught sight of Luke walking to his SUV parked a couple of spots up from her on the street. Their eyes met. For a moment she thought about pressing on her brakes, throwing her car in park, and running into his arms. Only for a moment. She continued her steering and left the spot. She didn't feel like talking about the vote. Not with Luke. Not with the one person she didn't want to let down.

• • •

Luke saw Candace drive off and he knew where she was going—her flower shop. They were going to talk tonight even if she didn't want to. He had stuff to get off his chest. He wasn't sure exactly the right words to use yet, but he'd figure it out.

The pub was being taken from him and he knew anger existed on the emotional roller coaster he was riding, but more than that a feeling of loss rode front and center—not for his pub, but for Candace. She'd take this loss hard and blame herself, pulling away. He could see the story unfold before him as he turned into the back parking lot of their businesses.

He and Candace wouldn't be next door to each other in the future. A ball of fear rolled over his body. They would become acquaintances again, and that wasn't the life he wanted. He wanted Candace
in
his life. He had to nip her pulling away from him in the bud.

Luke parked in his spot and rapped his knuckles on the back door marked Kiss from a Rose. He waited. The silence turned his skin from cold to hot to cold again. Was he really going to voice all of his thoughts about their relationship and where he wanted it to go?

How is she going to react?

The metal door pushed open and he took a quick step back. Candace leaned out, one hand on the frame and another on the door bar. He fixated on her face, taking in the soft curve of her cheeks and her wide eyes staring at him with weariness clouding them.

“Just hear me out,” he said and put his hand on the door in case she decided to shut it in his face.

She moved back and he stepped inside where the fragrance of roses and evergreen filled his lungs. She didn't say a word, which struck him as odd. Candace usually tried to speak first to get her opinion out in the open. Instead, she braced herself on an island in the middle of the room and watched him intently.

Now he'd have to speak his piece, but all of his senses told him to gather her in his arms and reassure her that life would go on and be all right. He'd be there with her; they'd all start over and make a future together.

He started toward her but she moved around a corner of the island, keeping it between them. He froze.

“I know what you're going to say.” She didn't meet his gaze. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry it didn't work out and that I put you and the others in this mess. I know you're mad.”

He shook his head as she continued.

“I don't feel like arguing right now.” Candace's blue eyes met his stare. “There's nothing left to say.”

“Candace …”

“No.” Her tone was curt and her lips pursed. “Please leave.”

She wasn't going to listen; he could see she'd shut down. “I'm sorry about your shop as well. I'll see you tomorrow.”

There'd be no getting through to her tonight. Not exactly the best time to tell someone
I love you.

Candace couldn't sleep. She'd been replaying her last words to Luke that were less than forty-eight hours old, but stung like she'd uttered them mere minutes ago, along with everything they'd said in their past couple of weeks, and—because why not?—their relationship since kindergarten.

So, regardless of the fact it was technically Christmas Eve, she'd returned to the only comfort she could count on: Kiss from a Rose.

As she stepped over the threshold, a man's shadow materialized by the walk-in refrigerator and she screamed. She looked around for the umbrella she and Sophie kept by the back door as adrenaline burned her veins.

“It's okay, it's Frank.” The shadow moved toward her and she could see the whites of his familiar eyes.

She took in a couple of breaths to calm herself before she spoke, “What are you doing here?”

“I was checking out an anomaly I found.”

“It doesn't matter.” She set her purse on the island. “The vote already happened.”

“Honey, it ain't over until it's over. And this ain't over.”

“What?” Candace's day had been long, but he wasn't making sense.

“I checked out the tunnels like you asked. You were right. They don't end where the city thinks they do.”

“Really?” Candace felt a ping of excitement in her chest, but she couldn't muster a lot of hope. She couldn't live through more disappointment.

“Yes. And I just inspected my hunch. Did you know you have a basement?”

“No.” She crinkled her nose. None of the businesses on this block had basements.

“You do. If I got a look at The Pub, I'd say they do, too. That pub has been there forever. I think the tunnels connect to them because they served booze even back then. You have two separate tunnels that intersect under your building to The Pub. That second one runs south. Probably goes under the tire place.”

“We can get certified as an historical district?”

“Yep.”

“Holy bananas!” She flung her arms out and hugged Frank like he'd just saved her from falling off a cliff. “This means regardless of what the city council voted, we'll be saved, right?”

“That would be correct. I've called in a favor and have a meeting with the main city inspector first thing after Christmas. I'll get you the paperwork you need to present to the historical preservation society.”

“You're the best. I'm so glad I called you.” Her body felt weak. All the pent-up tension and aggression from this entire ordeal was leaving her body. Frank walked her back out to her car. She was going to sleep great tonight—if she could keep Luke off her mind.

In the grand scheme of things, she didn't want him out of her mind—she only wished they were on better terms. And that she hadn't fallen in love with him.

• • •

Candace knew Luke would be at The Pub with his entire family celebrating Christmas for what they thought was the last time. She didn't want to hold on to information and torture the Carrigans by letting them go through the mourning process when it wasn't necessary. Her family's annual Christmas Eve party was starting soon, but she detoured downtown first.

Dressed in her crimson Christmas dress that started sleek on the top, ruffled at her hips, and ended above her knees, she walked into the pub in her silver heels with a purpose. She could hear her heartbeat as she swept the room for Luke.

Sleeping last night had been a lost cause. Every time she closed her eyes she either pictured Luke kissing her under big snowflakes or his disappointment after the final vote. The latter was the picture that kept her awake. She couldn't stand to see him unhappy. A quick phone call would've sufficed, but delivering the good news might be the last time she was able to have a conversation with him. They were business neighbors and she had a sinking suspicion that was all they were now. The flirting would end. She would miss him. Hell, she already did. She blinked back a sudden rush of liquid to her eyes and spotted him in the crowd at the same time he noticed her. They met in front of the bar. Even though his family was all in attendance, there was ample room in the pub, and they stood alone.

“Merry Christmas.” She smiled, but her nerves quickly took it away.

“Merry Christmas.”

“I don't mean to interrupt,” she said.

“I'm glad you're here. Want a drink?” he asked.

“No.”
He's glad I'm here?
“Thank you. I have to get to my parents' for dinner.” She was having trouble keeping eye contact with him. His green eyes were beautiful and she wanted to stare at them for hours, but right now she was scared of what she might see. “I just wanted to tell you that your pub is safe.”

“What?” His hands moved to his hips.

“Actually all of our businesses are safe. I figured with Christmas and all, you'd want to know now.”

“Ya, thanks. How? Did the council change their minds?”

“Not exactly. A family friend was able to find underground tunnels beneath our places that run to Billy's, then back into the main part of downtown. Those tunnels are what saved us. Them and the historical society.”

“And your persistence.”

“I know I get caught up in business and winning, but that's not all there is to me or what I want out of life. Thanks for sticking the fight out with me. I'll let you get back to your family.” She turned to leave and felt his hand around her wrist.

“Candace. Not so fast.”

At first glance, he looked mad. She braced herself. Then his face softened and she felt a pull so strong she couldn't take it anymore. She knew he didn't feel the same way. But she wasn't going to be some sniveling, lovesick woman begging him to love her back. Nope. She would tell him how she felt, lay her feelings on the line, and then move on with her life. She knew with his family around, this wasn't the best time to discuss feelings. But, really, her timing only made the one-sided discussion they were about to have all the better—she could escape and go back to seeing him only now and then. She wouldn't drink at his bar or go to The Steakhouse anymore. Casper was a decent-sized town; she could avoid him for years. Maybe. Probably. If she lived at Kiss from a Rose and never had to go outside.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.

“Yes. Well, no. Actually, yes.” She jutted her chin.

“That wasn't meant to be a confusing question.” He let her wrist go.

“I'm not confused.” She shook her head and locked onto his eyes. “I'm just in love with you. I had to tell you so I can get over it.”

“What?” His brows rose and his head cocked to the side. “You're
what
?”

“It's not a big deal. I wasn't sure what else to do, so I told you.”

“You're here to tell me that you're in love with me, and that you'll be getting over it soon?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn't sound like love. Sounds like a cold. Why do you think you're in love with me?”