“Yup, almost back to normal. Power’s on. Another day of sunshine, and the road will be in tolerable shape. Mitch, too.” He chuckled. “I mean, a day or two of those antibiotics should work wonders. Just make sure he takes them all.”
“I will. Thanks, Jeb.”
He nodded, sketched a salute, and climbed into his truck.
Candy walked back to the house, closed the door, and leaned against it, relief settling in. Mitch was going to be fine. The visions of gangrene she’d harbored disappeared with the melting snow. And she had clothes. Real clothes. They’d stop at her disabled car on the way home. The thought of wearing something other than baggy sweats and flannel sent a shiver of anticipation skittering down her spine.
“If that smile gets any wider, you’re going to pull a muscle.”
Her gaze snapped to the hallway. Mitch lounged against the wall, watching her. Major sat beside him.
“I was thinking about my favorite sweater. It’s shouting my name from its prison inside my suitcase.”
He cocked his head and frowned. “Are you sure? I thought it was the lace teddy.”
A giggle burst through her lips. “You must be feeling better. Still, I think you should go sit down.”
“Only if you come with me.”
The way his gaze strayed down the length of her body nearly convinced her. Heat flared. For crying out loud, the man isn’t even touching you. Get a grip! She took a breath. “As soon as I change.”
“If it’s into that lacy teddy, you have my blessing.”
She crossed the room and stopped inches away. The dog whined, and she reached down absently to scratch his ears. “You’re in no condition for teddies, lace or otherwise.”
Mitch tugged her against him. “Wanna bet?”
Wrapping her arms loosely around his neck, she smiled. “No.” Leaning in, she kissed him lightly. “I’m just so thankful you’re going to be okay. I was worried. Really worried.”
“Does that mean you care, just a little?”
She rolled her eyes at his wheedling tone. “Maybe a little, smarty.”
“Then sit with me on the couch. I’m sure we can think of something to do that won’t tax my strength.”
“Just as soon as I change. Promise.”
His gaze caressed her face. The look in his eyes… She let out a shuddering breath, afraid to put a name to it.
“I’ll be right back.”
“I’m holding you to it.”
Chapter Eighteen – Revelations
by Amber Leigh Williams
Candy had promised herself she’d leave as soon as the power was back on and Mitch was his healthy, hearty self again, but she lingered. Her rental car was being repaired. After hours spent on the phone with his insurance company, Mitch’s tow truck had been hauled away. The snow was melting. Yet it became increasingly difficult for her to pack up what she’d pulled out of her suitcase, the pieces of clothing mingling with his in piles on the floor, usually where she’d discarded them at the onset of sex. Once Mitch got his stamina back, they went several rounds throughout the house.
If she were honest with herself—and the longer she spent with Mitch, the more she was forced to confront her feelings—it wasn’t the lovemaking that kept her around. It was the unity that had grown out of their relationship. Despite the short time they’d spent together, being with him felt natural. Even the time engaged in their prickly brand of banter.
No, it wasn’t just sexual. And if she were really being honest with herself, it never had been. She’d fallen for him. After all her resolutions and reservations and years of being alone, Candy Wright had found love in the unlikeliest place imaginable. With the unlikeliest man.
Still, reality had to intrude at some point. She had a home and a career hundreds of miles away.
Turning toward him, she studied his face in the afternoon light shining through the undraped windowpane across the bedroom. He’d crashed hard after their latest tussle. Their lovemaking had been tender, slow, drawn out with such care it had shattered her heart. She feathered her hand lightly over his stubbled cheek, and a soft smile touched her lips when he sighed in his sleep.
Though she’d thought of little else all morning, she hadn’t known how to broach the subject of her return to New York. Usually, she didn’t have a problem putting an end to a relationship. And though this would only be a temporary end—she hoped—she didn’t want to wipe the soft look from his eyes. The look she’d basked under since their return from the clinic.
How she was going to live without that look… She didn’t want to think about it.
Unable to settle down, she rose as quietly as she could from the bed and stepped carefully over Major on her way out. Candy wrapped a white silk robe around her waist, glad she’d had the foresight to pack it for the trip south. She thought about going into the kitchen for some hot chocolate but decided against it when she found herself at the door to his office.
The first steps had to be taken. Preparation. As she stepped around the jamb and cracked the door behind her, she hoped Mitch would continue sleeping without her beside him.
Ignoring the pang of guilt at planning the initial stages of her return without his knowledge, she sat down in front of the spiffy-looking desktop and hit the button to engage the monitor. First up, she would see if there were any more flight delays out of the Atlanta airport. With the inclement weather moving northwest, air travel was getting back to relative normalcy in the south.
Releasing a heavy breath, she scanned the flights from Atlanta to New York. Which one? Several flew out that evening. She wouldn’t even consider leaving so soon. Biting her lip, she read the list for tomorrow.
The screen blurred. She blinked, surprised at the tears in her eyes and the ache in her chest.
She wasn’t ready to take this finite step.... Not without talking to Mitch first. She would be up front with him, no matter his reaction. Then she would book a flight and give them plenty of time to say their goodbyes.
Candy cleared her throat, swiped the tears from her cheeks, and opened her email inbox. There were several messages from clients with projects slated for completion after the holidays. She couldn’t ignore them forever.
As she reached up to turn off the monitor, the fax machine to her right whirred to life. She jumped and knocked her elbow against the desk.
A single sheet of paper spat from the printer, overshot the paper tray, and fluttered to the floor.
Reaching down to retrieve it, the letterhead caught her eye.
Crawford
The name pierced her memory. So did the corporate logo beneath it. Her eyes flew over the words underneath the heading….
Michael:
I’ve been trying to reach you for days. Do they no longer have phone service wherever it is you have chosen to bury yourself these past few years? Your mother is requesting your presence here at home on New Year’s Day. I’ve told her not to get her hopes up as you never answer any of our summonses for the holidays or any other occasion and that you have distanced yourself irreversibly from this family. However, if you could be so kind as to drop her a line, I’m sure she would be most grateful.
Your father,
Michael Crawford Jr.
She stared at the signature, her heart pounding against her breastbone. After several long minutes, she crumpled the paper in her hand.
Crawford. How had she not seen it? Mitch had been lying to her the whole time. Mitch Johnson was Michael Crawford III, her childhood friend. He’d made her explain to him who her mother was, where she’d worked, the demise of what little family she had…. And he hadn’t said a word. Not It’s me, Michael or I’m sorry. Nothing.
“Candy?”
She whirled toward the doorway. By God, she shook with wrath, trembling and chilled to the bone. “I know who you are.”
His eyes narrowed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
She held up the fax and waved it in front of his face. “I know who you ar
e, Michael Crawford III!”
Chapter Nineteen – The Moment of Truth
by Laura Breck
His hand, scratching his bare chest, froze as Candy spat out his real name like she'd bitten into a rotten peach.
Ah, shit. How had he let it come to this? For days he'd been searching for a way to tell her, struggling for the right words.
Candy dropped the paper she'd been holding in front of his face, and it fluttered to the floor.
Mitch watched it settle and then raised his head to meet her gaze. Wet with tears, her beautiful hazel eyes glistened. His breath faltered. He opened his mouth, but words failed him. What the hell could he say? What could fix this?
Major nosed his way past him into the room. After sniffing at the paper, he yawned and stretched his front legs out in a yoga position, then dropped his butt and lay on the floor watching them.
“Oooooh!” Her face pinched and turned bright red. “I could just…” When her gaze lowered to his bandaged arm, she dropped her raised fist and let out a heartbreaking sigh.
Major whined, the sound skittering along Mitch’s nerves.
“If hitting me would make you feel better…” He held his arms out to the side. “By all means, do it.”
When she blinked, tears ran down her cheeks. She shook her head, and her bottom lip quivered.
“I hate to see you hurting like this.” He lowered his arms.
“Really?” She snapped. “You're concerned about me? You're the one who orchestrated this whole—”
“Nothing was orchestrated.” He lifted a hand, and she jumped back. As if she was afraid of being struck. Or worse, touched by something nasty. “When I realized who you were…”
“You asked me a dozen questions.” She jabbed a finger toward him. “Questions you knew the answers to. And I went on and on, telling you all about my life.” She closed her eyes for a second, then looked past his shoulder. “You must have had a damn good laugh."
“Of course not. I just didn't know how to—”
“Was this a game to you?” she cried. “Did the rich boy have fun seducing the maid’s daughter?”
“No. Goddamn it, Candy…” He had to make this right. Mitch scrubbed a hand down his face. “I wanted to tell you. After we made love the first time, I wanted to tell you.”
“Why didn't you?”
The misery in her eyes clawed at his gut. Everything he said was wrong. He had to get away, just for a little while. He had to have time to think before he screwed this up completely.
“C’mon, Major.”
The dog jumped up.
Without looking at her, he said, “I'm going to take a walk. When I come back, we’ll talk this out.”
She didn't speak.
He waited.
She stared at him as if he were just this side of full-crazy.
Hell, maybe he was crazy. All he knew was, he didn't want to say any more until he cleared his head. He turned and went to the bedroom, dressed, and walked through the kitchen to the back door. Major followed, not his usual exuberant doggy self, as if sensing the tension in the air.
Mitch let the dog out and paused to listen. Silence. Where was she? God, he hoped she wasn't crying.
He headed into the woods as the sun dipped low between the trees. The ground sucked at his boots as the melting snow turned the forest floor into mud. He walked toward Jeb's cabin and considered knocking on his neighbor's door and burying his troubles in a bottle of whiskey, but that was a coward’s way out.
“I may be an idiot, but I’m not a coward.”
Major looked up at him from where he dug snow around a tree.
“Yeah, me,” he told his dog as he turned and headed back toward his own house.
Major barked twice and bounced alongside him as if in full agreement.
When he stepped into the yard, he drew up short. The fresh air and exercise had helped, but he still needed a plan.
He ducked into the garage and turned on the light over the workbench. Picking up a hammer, he whacked at a loose nail. Then dug out another one and pounded it into a piece of scrap lumber. Then another. Pretty soon, he’d wasted a half a box of nails.
“Shit.” Facing Candy would be one of the most difficult things he’d done in his life. No matter how hard, he’d tell her the truth. He hadn’t revealed his identity because she was only looking for a quick fling. Then she’d leave. How many times had she told him that? He hadn’t thought they’d grow this close. Never imagined she’d stick around.
He looked out the window toward the house. The kitchen glowed golden with light. Warm and inviting. His heart beat double time, and a bubble of emotion tried to break free of his throat. “Candy.” Damn, he was glad she’d stuck around.
He’d tell her how much she meant to him—no—how much she’d always meant to him. How those adolescent feelings had matured in the last few days. A love that took twenty years to—
Whoa! Love?
The hammer fell from his fingers, clattering on the cement floor. Panic gripped him. Where the hell had that come from?
Chapter Twenty – It's Cold Outside
by Barbara Edwards
Mitch’s heart pounded at the sight of Candy seated at the table, her head in her hands. The rich smell of homemade stew filled the air. Guilt tightened his throat. She’d cooked supper for him. She couldn’t be holding a grudge, could she?
He quietly closed the door behind the dog. He had to tell her how his feelings had changed.
He groaned when Major laid his head in Candy’s lap. She ignored him, while she rubbed his dog’s silky ears.
Mitch knew how those fingers felt, and his skin burned at the memory.
“Candy?”
“What do you want, Mitch? To talk? You’re not the only one who needed time to think.” A sigh trembled from her lips.
She finally looked at him, and he wished she hadn’t. Her reddened eyes revealed she’d been crying.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. His cold fingers fumbled with the zipper of his jacket.
“For what? Not telling me who you are? Pretending to be interested in my past?” Her hazel eyes sparked with anger. “For making love to me like you really cared?”
Mitch held his hands up to stop the barrage of words. They found their target, anyway, ripping pieces from his heart. When he opened his mouth, nothing came out but a low groan.
Candy jerked to her feet.
Major scrambled to avoid being stepped on as she advanced until her face was inches from his. The varied colors of her hazel eyes glittered up at him. “Are you going to explain?”
His jaw worked as he tried to force out all the things he’d kept locked inside for ten years. All the horror and heartbreak. “I can’t,” he said, defeated.
She gave him a look cold enough to frost the Georgia Dome in August. “Then I’m out of here.”
Chapter Twenty-One – No Strings Attached
by Claire Ashgrove
“Wait.”
The single word stopped Candy at the door. Her fingers grazed the brass knob. Wisdom ordered her to turn the cold metal and ignore Mitch’s nearly inaudible directive. Her naïve heart, that so desperately wanted him to have a justification she could forgive, instructed her to turn around. She pivoted slowly, pinning him with a mistrustful stare. “Wait?”
He nodded and stood taller. His throat worked visibly as he swallowed, and then the façade cracked and his stare dropped to Major. “You set the rules. This was no strings attached.”
His voice was quiet, but it lashed like the crack of a whip, flaying her already wounded heart into bits. She’d been so foolish. So absolutely stupid to think that Michael Crawford III might have developed feelings for the maid’s daughter. He’d known all along who she was. If he’d cared, if he’d come half as close to love as she had, he’d have spit everything out days ago.
Candy steeled her resolve. This man had hurt her once before. She’d be damned if she'd let him know he could woun
d the woman who’d moved beyond her subservient social status. He and his family didn’t deserve that kind of power. “You’re right, I set the rules. Now I’m holding to them and leaving.”
She yanked open the door and grabbed her purse. Chill winter wind rushed through the plush fabric of her sweater.
“Candy.”
Heavy boot steps followed her quick retreat down the stairs, crunching what remained of the slush and ice on the pave stones. Candy quickened her steps, her focus on the path leading into the woods.
“Candy! Your coat, your things! You can’t just walk out in the middle of winter. Come back and we can talk about this.”
Like hell. Gritting her teeth, she refused to acknowledge the cold and lifted her voice over the brisk breeze. “Burn them. I don’t want to see them again.”
No reminders of Mitch—her favorite cashmere sweater might be in a heap at the foot of his bed, but she could buy another. Keeping memories of him hanging in her closet would make it impossible to erase their connection from her mind. And she would erase him. One way or another.
Taking a deep breath, she ignored Major’s muffled bark and stumbled down the four-wheeler’s path. Jeb could give her a ride. To the airport, to town where she could catch a cab, all the way to Manhattan if necessary. It didn’t matter where he took her, so long as it was far from Mitch—no Michael’s—rustic home.
What in the world was he doing all the way down here anyway?
It didn’t matter. She no longer cared.
As she blinked back tears, she summoned the old, familiar walls around her heart and turned the bend, trudging deeper into the forest. Above the tall pines, a slender plume of smoke wove through the branches, marking the path back to the life she could depend on. The life where everyone remained at a safe distance and no one trespassed across the rock-hard boundaries she set.
So what if that meant Christmas, New Year’s, and all the rest of the holidays would be spent alone? So what if that meant she’d have to go out and buy her own damn dog?