5. Candy
Chapter Five
CANDY
“No champagne ?” My sister’s face falls.
“I thought goths like you only drank bat’s blood. Maybe red wine, if there were no bats. Your tastes have gone fancy , Juniper.” Jax narrows his eyes.
Juniper sticks her tongue out, throwing a bread roll across the table.
“Cut it out!” Dad’s voice is sharp. “We have guests.”
My sister rolls her black-lined eyes. “Dalton isn’t a guest . He’s been at this birthday supper for the last ten years. Who knows, maybe he has other plans, and we force him to be here?”
Dalton shifts in his seat. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. And champagne makes me burp.”
Grandma cackles. “Me too. But I still keep drinkin’ it!”
Under the table, the dog is chewing noisily on something. Mom walks in, holding a bottle of wine up like a trophy.
“No champagne, but one of our customers gave us some bottles from his vineyard. One of those billionaires Snowflake likes to attract.” She moves around the table, pouring it into our glasses.
The table is decked out for the holidays. There’s a bright red tablecloth sprinkled with snowflakes, green plates with a Christmas tree pattern and, in the center, a tipsy-looking Santa teetering on a chimney. I’ve been helping Grandma with Jaxon’s cake, a two-tier masterpiece involving meringue, chocolate and mounds of whipped cream. Typical of Jax, he insists on this complicated cake every year without understanding quite how much effort it takes to produce it.
I’ve been standing over the cake for hours, stirring batter and whipping cream, until my arms and legs ache. Kicking my shoes off, I stretch my leg out under the table, and my foot catches something firm and solid. It must be part of the table leg. I dig my toes in, trying to work out the soreness.
Mom takes her seat as I look across at Dalton. He’s staring at me, a surprised look on his face. I blink a couple of times and then almost shoot out of my chair as a big hand closes around my foot.
I need to breathe. That’s not the table leg.
“How much longer until the main event?” Dad puts an arm across the back of Mom’s chair.
“Maybe five minutes. The chicken needs to rest once it comes out of the oven. Help yourself to the other dishes while we wait. Oh, and a toast to my wonderful son. Stand up, Jaxon!”
Jax reluctantly stands up. Under the table, Dalton keeps a hold of my foot. He must think I was trying to play footsie with him. Heat floods my cheeks, my foot frozen in his lap. What kind of harlot does he think I am, first stroking his beard yesterday, then practically throwing my foot in his lap at dinner?
Dad starts one of his speeches listing all of Jax’s achievements, including the long list of every football game he ever played. Dalton’s thumb massages the arch of my foot and I moan, then transform it into a cough. Juniper eyes me curiously over her wine glass. I can’t look at him, but I also can’t take my foot out of his lap. His fingers expertly rub every inch of my sore foot as my cheeks get hotter.
As Dad finishes his speech, Jax takes a bow. A loud groaning noise from under the table breaks the silence. Oh no. Did I just?—
“Rudy?” Jax bends down to look under the table and I yank my foot back, pulse racing. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. This is my brother’s birthday and I’m doing the one thing I’m sure he’d hate. He’s always been protective of his friendship with Dalton. And Dalton made it clear all those years ago that his loyalty was to Jax. This must be some kind of rebound thing that’s scrambling my brain and sending my crush into overdrive.
But why was he rubbing my foot?
“Mom! He’s got the fucking chicken!” Jax dives under the table, sending glasses and the centerpiece flying.
“Jax! Don’t curse…” Dad crouches down. “Oh, fuck .”
Juniper and Grandma are already cracking up.
“Oh no! It’s got cheese on it. You know he’s dairy intolerant…” Mom kneels down to peer under the table.
Dad lurches up, holding the remains of the chicken above his head, a tangle of melted cheese clinging to his hand like some greasy holiday decoration. “Here’s what’s left.”
Jax guides Rudy out from under the table. “You okay, boy? Mom, he looks…weird.”
Rudy staggers forward onto Mom’s prized rug, makes a groaning noise and then hunches over. We all stare at him. He emits an enormous fart that propels him forward, his feet skidding over the road.
Mom starts to wail as Rudy drags his butt over the rug. “He’s pooping !”
Dalton’s face breaks from its usual frown into a broad grin. He’s so handsome when he smiles that I can’t stop gawking at him, then look away. I don’t want Jax to catch me staring at his best friend. Although it appears he’s pretty preoccupied right now.
Grandma stands. “Jaxon, take that dog outside! I’ll clear up the mess and call Dr. Abbott, we can walk over to his house. Won’t be the first time the vet’s seen Rudy late at night.”
Dad eyes the chicken as Jax guides a groaning Rudy to the door, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. “That’s disgusting. And this chicken is going in the trash. Who wants pizza?”
My sister claps her hands together. “Me! I’ll come with you and Mom to get it. You always forget the extra pineapple. Dalton and Candy can clean the table.” She raises one eyebrow at me and I roll my eyes.
Once my parents and sister have taken orders and left the house, Grandma mops the floor, calls the vet, pulls on her coat, and then goes outside to find Jax and Rudy. I start to clean the table, taking the dishes into the kitchen. Dalton helps me, that cute, broad smile still on his face.
Once we’re in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, he puts his hands on his knees and starts laughing. I can’t remember the last time I heard him laugh, but it’s so infectious that I join in. The skin by his eyes crinkles as he roars, his belly wobbling as he throws back his head, howling with laughter.
“Your Dad’s face! And your brother’s!” He puts one of his hands against the countertop beside me as he straightens up.
“I’m glad you’re not the minister. Or the mayor. We’d never live this down.” I smile up at him. The radio is playing Christmas songs in the background and I reach to turn it off. Dalton’s hand closes over mine.
“Leave it on. I want to show you that the holidays aren’t all bad.”
“Okay. I’m not sure how you’re going to convince me.” Darn it, that sounded flirty. He’s so sexy, I can’t help it.
“My expert foot massage didn’t do the trick?” He peers down at me, still smiling. A slow version of All I Want For Christmas is You starts playing.
My cheeks burn. “I’m sorry. I thought your lap was the table leg.”
His grin gets wider as he leans forward. “That’s a good line…really.”
“This is the first time I’ve heard you laugh in a while, Dalton.” He’s still holding onto my hand. He takes the cup I’m holding and puts it on the counter. Pulling me away from the dishwasher, he wraps his hands around my waist.
“Yeah, I’m out of practice. And I have my grumpy rep to uphold.”
We sway to the music.
“You’re frowning. Don’t you like this tune?” He asks. My hands are resting on his shoulder, but he’s so tall I have to stand on tiptoe.
“It doesn’t bring back great memories.”
“How come?”
I grimace. “It was the song I danced to. My solo.”
He shakes his head. “I’d love to see you dance.”
“You know what’s worse?”
“What?”
“I was rehearsing when I noticed my fiancé had been gone for ages. I wanted to ask him a question, so I went backstage. This song was playing when I discovered him with an elf in his lap. She was really getting into it.” I shut my eyes, wincing at the memory.
His big hand cups my jaw as he pulls me closer. Dalton lowers his lips to my ear, sending shivers down my neck. “Can I associate this song with a better memory? Wipe away the bad ones?”
I should say no. This shouldn’t be happening, even if it feels like heaven.
I nod. His lips find mine. He kisses me softly at first as tingles spread all down my back to my core. My panties are already drenched as his hardness presses into me, his hand flat on the small of my back. I moan, arching up against his soft belly. He kisses harder, his beard brushing my skin, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. I’m breathless, the noise of the radio fading into the background. It’s just him and me.
I push him away as the door bangs open and my sister walks in. “Mom forgot her…”
She looks at Dalton, then at me. “Did I disturb something?”
“I was just showing Dalton a dance move. What did Mom forget?” My voice sounds high-pitched and strange.
“Right. Mom forgot her purse. I’ll let you carry on with the…tutorial.” She grins.
Dalton’s stares at me once Juniper’s gone.
“It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” I’m babbling, my cheeks burning, needlessly loading a clean plate into the dishwasher.
“I should get going. Got an early start tomorrow. I’ll text Jax.” His face is set in its usual slight frown.
I nod, incapable of coherent speech. “Going. I mean, goodbye. See you later.”
He leaves and I lean against the counter. What the hell have I done?