One Lucky Deal (6 page)

“No.” Tad lifted his head at Candace over the wet castle. Their fingers brushed roughly against each others’. A barrier of sand rubbed between them as they tried to mold the turret.

“Is she your wife?” the little girl asked, brushing a stray strand of brown hair out of her eyes.

“No.” Tad grinned, on the verge of a laugh, but held it in, probably not wanting to embarrass the girl for asking incorrectly again.

“Girlfriend, then?” The youngest boy scrunched up his adorable sun-kissed face.

Candace and Tad shared a smile. “Nope, not my girlfriend,” Tad answered the young blond-haired boy.

“Well then, what is she?” The girl dug a little more sand out for their moat.

“She’s my friend,” Tad answered. His fingers grazed Candace’s again. His fingers were hot over her cool ones and rough against her soft skin beneath all the sand.

“Best. Friend,” Candace emphasized and smiled at Tad. The sky then crackled open, and out of nowhere the sun became tucked away behind a gray cloud. The heavens opened up and drenched them all.

“Alma, Rory, Clay!” a pregnant woman near the pier yelled.

“See ya,” the oldest boy said, taking off with his brother and sister in tow.

Tad and Candace abandoned the best sand castle ever for their cooler, shoes, and blanket. It was all left sitting where they’d left it a good fifty feet back toward the water.

Tad grabbed the cooler and their shoes. Candace threw the blanket over her head, trying to stay dry, but it didn’t help much. She offered a corner to Tad but he just shook his head. He reached out and grabbed her hand, making sure she stayed right behind him as they headed for cover.

Thunder boomed overhead. They were just another two people scurrying around trying to get out of the rain. They passed a man selling umbrellas standing under a tiny vendor awning. They’d passed him to get to the beach as well. On the way, he’d been selling them for a dollar apiece, and now he had added another zero to his sign.

“Get your umbrellas. Only ten dollars—a great deal!” he hollered out, his round cheeks ruddy from the sun. To her surprise, people were stopping to buy one. Candace was tempted. She was cold and her clothes were soaked clear through.

“Come on,” Tad hollered over the noise of the crowds, the pounding rain, and thunder. “It’s highway robbery.”

He pulled her along. At some point Candace had given up the ruse of using the blanket for coverage. Heavy and waterlogged, it was a giant, sopping mess. She couldn’t hold it above her head anymore.

Tad ripped it from her grasp. “Lose it.” He tossed it into the trash before pulling her through the wet parking lot. It was nearly all one big puddle. Tad rushed to his side of the truck, leaving Candace on the other. He unlocked the doors as quickly as possible.

They both jumped in at the same time, closing the door and muffling the rain. It came down in sheets against his windshield. It fell down like a waterfall over their doors. Steam rolled off their bodies.

*

Candace glistened with rain. Her hair was weighted down but had begun to curl around her face, and her dress was plastered to her like a second skin. Tad couldn’t help but notice. It made him wonder what she looked like not wearing anything at all. It was unsettling, but he was only human. Her dress was suctioned to her breasts so tightly that just enough was left to the imagination to keep him wondering.

Tad reached behind the seat and pulled out a sweatshirt. It was old but clean for having been riding around in his dusty old truck for weeks. He handed it to Candace.

“Thanks.” She shivered, but he wasn’t doing it for her. She slipped into his hoodie and pulled it tightly around her.

*

Candace looked over at Tad. His eyes were just as stormy as the sky. She didn’t know what he was thinking, and with that seriously stern brow of his, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She buried her wet, cold nose into the neckline of his shirt. It was warm, dry, and smelled good—familiar—like home.

Baring her face again, she looked up at Tad, who had started the ignition and turned the heat on full blast. “How did you know?”

Tad lifted a shoulder, and she watched as a corner of his mouth turned up in a slow half smirk. “I’ve got some Chippewa in me.”

“Oh yeah?” Candace laughed at this.

“Yeah, somewhere … way back … I think.”

“Yeah,” Candace agreed, but it was obvious that he hadn’t a clue to his genealogy.

“Haven’t you wondered why I never burn but always tan?”

“It’s been my life’s mystery.” Candace fiddled with the sleeve of Tad’s hoodie. The moment fell silent between them. When the need to fill it became too much to bear, Candace looked over at Tad, who was looking out the window up at the sky, as if he was trying to gauge how long they had to wait before it was safe to drive in. “Let’s hope your date is better than this.”

Tad nodded. “If it’s not, I’ll owe you.”

“You always owe me.” Candace let her head fall back against the neck rest.

“Yeah, but I always deliver.”

* * * *

“It was okay up until the downpour,” Candace said to Reagan. She suddenly wished she could be talking to someone other than one of the people who had orchestrated this challenge. She also wished she could talk to someone who wouldn’t be so judgmental. She just wanted a sounding board—someone who would be supportive of whatever she had to say and, above all, wouldn’t meddle. That used to be her sisters … mostly Reagan.

Ever since Reagan found Reed and had become engaged, she was determined for her sisters to find that special someone too. The pressure was really on for Candace since Ronnie had gone off and gotten pregnant and eloped a few months ago. It sucked because she could really use a sister right now, but not pushy, judgmental, eternally happy ones. She sometimes yearned to have her snarky, single sisters back.

They were at Reagan and Reed’s house putting together the programs for their beach wedding. Just Reagan, Ronnie, Candace, and Reed’s daughter Chloe were seated around the table. The guys were in the garage, throwing darts. Candace wanted to be in the garage. It was not because she was such a fan of darts, but she was sick of stapling these programs.

“Rain is romantic.” Chloe sighed wistfully. “I think her date should count. I mean they went out there. They had a picnic. They made a sand castle.”

“Yeah, it sounds like a play date.” Ronnie smiled at Candace apologetically.

“It was the thought that counts, right?” Candace nudged the pretty, petite sixteen-year-old.

“Yes. Plus they ran for cover, they sat in the parking lot until the storm let up, talking.” Chloe sighed again. “If that had been Shea and I, you and Dad would have been worried we ended up making it in the cab of the truck.” Chloe laughed. “So I think it should count.”

“I don’t know.” Reagan shook her head and licked a finger as she sorted the pages of programs. Ronnie built one and passed it to Chloe, who folded it and passed it to Candace, who stapled it and put them into a box.

“He gave me his hoodie to wear,” Candace interjected. “And this is supposed to be a challenge about the fact we can be in a relationship, not necessarily the perfect relationship. If that had been a real date it still would have been a date. It counted.”

“He gave you his hoodie?” Reagan smirked at her.

“And held her hand as they ran through the rain,” Ronnie informed Reagan. Candace didn’t feel it was necessary to tell them that their run through the rain was more like being dragged through it. Nor did she feel the need to tell them that the rain was not the pretty kind, and that when she got home her eyes looked like a raccoon’s from that damn mascara.

“All right, we’ll let it go.” Reagan nodded. “Are you excited about your date tonight?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t told me what we’re doing tonight, just that we had to wait until after dark. I’ve been racking my brain but I’ve come up with nothing. I thought of a drive-in theater, but we don’t have any of those. Then I thought maybe we’re doing one of those moon walks through the state forest, but Tad thinks only hippies do that so … I don’t know.”

“What do you want it to be?” Chloe asked, seeming far more intrigued with this whole challenge bet than she should have been at sixteen.

“A Life In Color concert.” Candace only half joked. Her sisters had no reaction to that and Candace leaned into Chloe and whispered, “They’re too old to know what that is.”

“Hey!” Reagan jumped with a laugh on her lips. “I’m not so old my hearing is going.”

“Close enough.” Candace winked.

“Hey, she’s older than me.” Reagan laughed but Ronnie cocked an eyebrow.

“By two minutes.”

“Four. And those four minutes used to mean something to you.” Reagan grinned at her twin.

“Candy,” Tad called into the house. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Candace called back to him and stapled her last program for the night. “See you guys later.” She reached over and hugged her sisters over the table and leaned down and kissed her soon-to-be niece on the top of the head. “Sorry to leave you with old and older.”

Chloe laughed. “I think I’ll survive.”

“Hey,” Candace called over her shoulder just suddenly realizing what Tad had called her. “Don’t call me that.”

“Are you coming or what?”

“Yeah.” She grabbed her purse from the floor, headed out the front door where she’d taken off her shoes, and met him outside.

Chapter 5

“Where are you taking me?” Candace looked out the window. They’d been driving for at least forty-five minutes and it was a while back that the pavement had ended. For a time they were just kicking up red dust, but then the road narrowed and they were on some two-track road. Tad then had turned at a landmark that was invisible to her and what they were driving on now she wouldn’t have even considered a road—it was barely a trail.

“Don’t you trust me?” Tad shot her a half smirk.

“No.” She laughed. “If
CSI
taught me anything, it’s to suspect everyone is a serial killer.”

“Ah, come on, Candy, I’m not going to kill you.” Tad slung his arm over the back of the seat, which made Candace nervous because she thought for sure on a trail this rough he should be using both hands. “But I might take advantage of you.” He’d played that so straight she almost believed it, until he waggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah, okay.” She rolled her eyes.

They came suddenly to a partial clearing. Tad swung his truck around so they were facing south again, and then he parked. Candace looked around like maybe she’d missed some quaint little restaurant tucked away into the trees somewhere, but there was nothing. It was dark, woodsy, and somewhere far off in the distance a coyote was calling out.

“Are you coming?” Tad motioned for her to hop out, and before she could ask any questions at all he pulled two old quilts and a thermos out from behind the seat.

Crickets were singing, toads were tossing out their mating calls, and little fireflies were flittering in the brush. The night was fragrant and warm. Tad pulled down the tailgate and tossed down one of the quilts.

He easily hopped up into the back. Then he sat the other blanket down along with the thermos and reached for Candace. She let him help her up into the back of the truck. She was shocked. She had no idea what to expect from here.

“Lie down,” he said to her, and she shivered as he slid his hands off her hips. The wind must have been chillier than she had first suspected.

“What? Why?” she asked, but she found that she was already doing what he’d told her to. She’d stretched her legs out and relaxed on her back. She looked up at him and waited to understand. He didn’t explain anything; he just eased himself down beside her, and her heart began to beat in excess.

She thought back to the comment he’d made in the truck and she suddenly found herself holding her breath. She watched him lying beside her and blinked about a hundred times. He was different. She couldn’t figure out when that had happened.

“Look.” Tad pointed to the sky and folded his arms behind his head. Candace narrowed her eyes and tried to figure out what he was up to. She turned her head toward the sky as he’d told her to.

It took her a second but then she realized what it was that she was looking at. The sky had green and pink streaks of color across it, and Candace gasped and sat straight up. “Oh my God!” She stared openmouthed at the night. “Tad! Oh my God!” She turned to him with her finger pointed to the sky.

“Yeah, I know.” He grinned. “Come back here.” Tad patted the quilt beside him.

Candace fell back and looked up. The night was so clear and bright. The sky—amazing. It was some shade between green and pink. It was extraordinary. She could kiss him. She could kiss him right on the mouth. This was the best date she’d ever been on.

“Oh, Tad, I bet this works every time.”

He was so quiet for so long that Candace figured the conversation was over. When the pink began swirling higher into the sky, Tad spoke again. “I’ve never taken anyone out here before. It’s not the kind of thing I usually do.”

“Well, you should.” She could not stop smiling. “I’m telling you. If this were a real date … I’d be halfway to naked by now.”

“They said romantic, so I tried.” Tad’s gaze was still on the sky.

Candace leaned up on her elbow and looked over at him. “I bet you’re thinking my date was pretty hokey now.”

“It was memorable.” There was a ghost of a smile on his lips when she eased herself back to lying down.

“Thank you.” Candace folded her arms over her chest. Tad reached for the second quilt and handed it to Candace to cover up with. She gave him a little of it as well. “I’ve never seen this before.”

“Yeah, I know.” After awhile Tad sat up and Candace followed him. He reached for the thermos he’d brought along. “Coffee?”

“Please.” She scooted a little closer until they were thigh to thigh. He was warm, and the night was getting a little chilly.

They took turns drinking from the thermos as they stared up at the sky together. “This is amazing.” She shook her head. She still couldn’t quite get over how incredibly thoughtful this was. “I don’t get it, Tad, you’re so good at this. Why don’t you date—really date?”