Every Little Kiss (11 page)

T
he feeling of being dazed was a new one for Casey, but that was the only way she could describe the stupefied brain sludge that currently had complete hold of her. It kept her mouth open slightly, her eyes wide, and her heart thumping with disbelief.

Abe Cameron had not only shoveled her sidewalk and driveway, he had bought a stand for her and fixed her tree in place, all before she'd been able to put on clothes and dry her hair.

She wanted to pinch herself. Surely she was imagining this. The fog of impossibility that was rolling over her would dissipate if she could just bring herself to accept that she had conjured all this up. Because surely she hadn't gotten so wrapped up in unpacking that she'd totally spaced what time it was. And definitely she hadn't hopped into the shower late, then heard the scrape of a shovel just outside her front door when she'd turned off the water. Certainly she hadn't thrown on the first thing she could find, which was barely any clothes at all, and no way had she opened the door to find that Abe Cameron had shoveled not only her sidewalk but her driveway as well.

It was all more fiction than fact, right? Because Casey was always on time. She always took care of her responsibilities. She didn't lose things like tree stands and she always had Christmas
handled
.

Except when she didn't.

Except this year, when she was trying to be more laid-back and fun-loving, and she'd moved to a whole different town and everything felt topsy-turvy, especially the fact that she couldn't even find a gift for Audrey, for crying out loud, when she always knew exactly what to get her sister.

Thank God she had Abe Cameron helping take care of all the stuff she was slacking on.

The thought had her stomach fluttering. Maybe it wasn't so bad that Abe was responsible and serious. She certainly couldn't remember Miles putting her Christmas tree in a stand. Heck, she couldn't even remember Miles helping wash dishes after she'd cooked him dinner. And here was Abe, shoveling her walk and putting up her tree before they'd even had their first date.

The thought had tears pricking her eyes unexpectedly. She blinked them away, horrified that she was getting so worked up about this. Surely a little help couldn't mean so much?

But the truth was, it was the first time in forever that someone had stood by her side and shared any kind of burden. It wasn't a huge load, but it was a load nonetheless.

And it made her happier than she'd ever thought it could.

Now, standing outside of Hair We Are on Main Street, Abe put a steaming cup of mulled cider in her hand. The greetings of “Merry Christmas!” and “Happy holidays!” sounded from folks all around them. When his eyes found hers he gave her if not a smile, then a look that said he didn't hate being here with her. A look that said he might even be having a fine time. His black North Face jacket and black fleece hat made the strong lines of his face even stronger, and she couldn't help but stare a little.

Okay, a lot.

“The cider doesn't rule out us getting cocoa at the Rolling Pin later,” he said. “Unless you're having a bad time and just want to leave.”

“How will you know?”

“I'll have you fill out a little scorecard and rank the date so far. Anything less than a seven and I usually pull the plug.”

“I don't think you have to worry. Between the tree stand and the shoveling, you're doing okay.”

“Just okay?”

“I don't want you to get overconfident.”

He winked at her as a brisk wind flapped the awnings on Main Street's storefronts. The sun was already sinking, the sky darkening all around them. Lights twinkled and flickered—from the glowing wreath on the door of Loon Call Antiques to the smiling snowman in front of the library. The whole world sparkled enough to take her breath away.

A man in a down coat with the fingers of an adorable, chubby toddler in one hand and a bright red package from White Pine Hardware in the other stopped in front of them. He shifted the package so he could stop and shake Abe's hand. “Heya, Lu,” he said. “Happy holidays.” He gave Casey a pointed look she couldn't quite read.

When Abe didn't introduce her right away, she stuck out her hand.

“I'm Casey Tanner.”

“Saul Lambeck. Good to meet you. And this is Reggie. Say hi, buddy.”

The kid garbled something incomprehensible, his wide eyes taking in all the lights and sounds. He stamped his feet, clearly impatient for the parade to be underway.

“We just came from doing some Christmas shopping,” Lambeck said. “Reggie was doing fine until I told him there were going to be tractors down at the parade. He busted out of the hardware store screaming his head off. The kid's
insane
for tractors.”

Abe remained stonily silent. The seconds ticked by uncomfortably. “At least he hasn't asked to change his name to John Deere,” Casey offered finally.

“I have about a month then, I figure.” Lambeck said, grinning. Abe had yet to say a word.

“Well, see you around, Lu. Enjoy the parade. Nice to meet you, Casey.”

When he was gone, Casey rounded on Abe. “What the heck was that? Why were so you rude to him?”

“I wasn't.”

“You completely ignored him!”

“I didn't.” Abe's jaw barely moved.

“Come on. You hardly spoke just then. Don't tell me it's because you're selectively mute now.”

She was startled by the intensity that was suddenly blazing in Abe's hazel eyes as he faced her fully. “Listen,” he said, “firefighters are worse than a ladies' sewing circle when it comes to gossip. If I'd said one word just then, Lambeck would have read something into it. About being with you. I've learned just to stay quiet.”

Casey straightened. “You've had practice at this.”

Of course he had. She knew his reputation. Abe Cameron liked the ladies. His crew had probably seen him with hundreds of them. So why was she letting it irritate her?

“I've had practice taking shit for it,” Abe said, his jaw flexing. “And I don't feel like being gossiped about right now.”

Casey snorted. “Abe, the whole town is here at this parade tonight. This wasn't exactly the best event to take me to if you wanted privacy.”

Abe glowered. “I don't work with the whole town. I don't do twenty-four-hour shifts with the whole town. I don't have to eat meals with the whole town.”

He surprised her by stepping in closer and whispering into her ear. “Most times I'm out with someone, I don't care. Not about the girl, and not about what I say, or what the other firefighters say. Tonight, I wanted to be careful.”

His breath was warm, deliciously so, as his cheek pressed against hers. She nearly lost her footing. Was he telling her he hadn't said anything because he
liked
her?

Before she could think of anything to say in reply, he pulled away and pointed down the street.

“Here comes the first float,” he said. A giant papier mâché train coated in lights was headed their way. It was being hauled on a trailer with W
HITE
P
INE
M
ODEL
R
AILROADERS
painted in bold letters on the side. Steam billowed out of the top of the float, and the crowd cheered. Casey grinned, feeling like a little kid.

The train was followed by a trio of dancing Mrs. Clauses. They shimmied and kicked to “Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree” and flung candy canes into the crowds. Kids raced into the street to grab the candy before the next float—an enormous John Deere tractor with Santa waving from the top.

“That's Red Updike,” Abe said. “He does the Halloween corn maze every year out at his place.”

“Too bad there's no such thing as a Christmas corn maze,” Casey mused, watching the huge tractor roll past. “It could be in the shape of Rudolph and be lit by lights and have holiday trees scattered all throughout.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Abe said, flashing a smile. “But farmers have to pull in the crop before then. Leave it out too long and it gets too dry. Too much grain loss.”

“Thanks, Farmer Buzzkill.”

Abe leaned in, and his closeness had her toes curling in her boots. “Just providing facts, ma'am. Don't you want to know why a holiday corn maze doesn't exist?”

Her eyes slipped to his mouth, remembering how it felt against hers. “Not really. I was just trying to imagine it.”

“And now you can set your expectations accordingly. Farmer Buzzkill is your friend.”

“Does Farmer Buzzkill get a scorecard, too?”

Abe shook his head, his perfect ears tucked snugly under his black cap. “He's in the agriculturally immune category. It's in the fine print on the back.”

He was as deadpan as ever, but Casey found herself laughing. Not to mention noticing how the lights reflected in his hazel eyes, igniting the flecks of gold there.

He was watching her watch him. For a moment the world stilled, the parade faded, and it was just the two of them.
Fireworks on Christmas
, Casey thought as her body lit up with a tingling, exploding sensation that flamed through her skin and muscles.

Abe's golden brows drew together. The darkening of his face was from frustration, she realized. She wondered if he wanted to kiss her again, right here at the parade, but was holding off because more firefighters could be nearby. Nevertheless, her insides thrilled at the notion. Making out with the fire lieutenant at the holiday parade! What would the Knots and Bolts crew say? In that moment she didn't care.

Instead of kissing her, Abe grasped her mittened hand in his gloved one. He squeezed gently. It was sweet enough to have her skin sparking with the contact, even through the layers of fabric. Holding hands felt like their secret. A linking that was all their own.

Right then, she couldn't deny that she felt a pull toward Abe that felt as natural as gravity. It was like a force that had always been there, something you'd study in physics and write equations for. The X of Y equals the force at which CT meets AC.

It was strong enough to remind her of the list. She smiled to herself, thinking how fun it would be to challenge him on all five counts. God, but could she be that direct? Would she come out and just ask him “Hey, I want twelve orgasms, can you give them to me?” She swallowed, realizing she'd never gotten that far. She'd never even thought about how to present the list to a possible…candidate.

She glanced at Abe, thinking about everything he'd done for her already, and wondering if there were
five
more very important things
he could give her. She recalled feeling the length of him at Robot Lit and shivered.

“Here comes the rig,” Abe said, jarring her back to the here and now. She blinked, reminding herself that this was only a first date, and she shouldn't yet be thinking about tumbling into bed with Abe.

Or should she?

The possibility made her light-headed. She needed to think about this later, when she was home alone, not when Abe was right here and they were surrounded by half the town. She struggled to focus on the shining fire engine rolling slowly toward them, sirens blipping and lights flashing. Quinn was driving, and Reese was throwing candy out the passenger-side window.

“You don't mind if they see you with me?”

Abe shook his head. “No. Of course not. I just don't want to
talk
to any of them. I refuse to add fuel to their fire, no pun intended.”

“Don't you wish you were up there?” Casey asked, watching the enormous vehicle.

“I rode in it for years. It's nice to be down here for once.”

“How long have you worked for the fire department?”

“I went in not too long after college. I was holding down an IT job right after graduation, but it didn't take me too long to figure out I hated coding software and loved helping people.”

The fire truck was followed by the White Pine High School marching band. They were belting out a brassy rendition of the Beach Boys' “Little Saint Nick.”

“What about you?” Abe asked over the music. “Did you know you always wanted to be an accountant?”

“Pretty much. It was logical, anyway. I liked math. I was organized.”

“Can you tone down the enthusiasm? It's making me uncomfortable.”

Casey laughed. “God, I know. I sound so boring. It's just that for a long time, what I wanted wasn't an option. Not when I was just trying to get what I needed.”

“How do you mean?”

“My sister and I were on our own a lot growing up. I think I stopped asking myself pretty early on whether I liked something. If it got me from point A to point B, I just did it. If it meant Audrey and I survived, I didn't think, I just acted.”

“Sounds like you had a lot of responsibility on your shoulders.”

“Looking back, there are days that I wonder how it all even worked out. We didn't go hungry or get pregnant. Audrey and I both got college educations. I'm so grateful.”

She took a sip of cider, worried she was rambling. But Abe was leaning in, tuned into her every word. “And how about now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you giving yourself a little more slack to enjoy things?”

There was a playful note in his voice that thrilled her.

“Probably more than I should be,” she said, thinking of all the ways she wanted to loosen up and have fun. And all the ways Abe Cameron could help her do just that. She turned away slightly, worried her face was the picture of open hunger.

“You have a younger sibling, too, right?” she asked, trying to change the subject. “Stu?”

Abe nodded. “He's a pain in my ass. Takes after my folks more than I do. They're artists, and he's more—free thinking that way.”

“Are your folks still around?” she asked, pretending Betty hadn't told her precisely where they were.