Chapter 25 Clara
W HEN J ACK SHOWS UP , I’ M going to whack him with the candleholders I bought from Harry’s earlier.
Given how close together everything in Fraser Falls is, I can see the Christmas tree from where I’m standing outside Maggie’s.
It’s installed in front of the town hall and is a lot bigger than I was anticipating.
I don’t know how I’ve been walking past it oblivious.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the Rockefeller tree, but what is?
Dove told me they were so worried about the storm at the start of the week that they didn’t think they’d be able to get it ready in time.
Arthur apparently suggested a hologram tree but wasn’t sure where to source the equipment.
Apparently , he said, “Ask Clara, she’ll know,” and I almost combusted with joy when Dove told me.
She then told me to “get a life.” While she is totally right, it just showed that I’m starting to gain people’s trust, per my closet plan. Even if every time I pull something out of there there’s a sticky note attached to it.
I check my phone again for the time, then send Jack another five question marks to go along with my other messages asking where he is. The bubble appears on his side of the chat but disappears again. Then I spot him, weaving through the crowd at a light jog.
I fold my arms over my chest, unimpressed. I can hear the muffled garble of Arthur on a microphone near the town hall followed by the loud, synchronized counting down from ten from the sizable crowd gathered near the tree.
They all collectively chant three as Jack reaches me. “You’re late, Kelly!”
“I know, I’m sorry. I had to get something.” Two.
“What couldn’t wait fifteen minutes?” One.
“This.” The tree lights in reds and golds to the sound of applause as Jack lowers a small plastic crown onto my head.
“Congrats on completing your Small Business Saturday stamp book,” he says proudly. His hands drop from the crown to my shoulders, squeezing. My hands cover his, my fingers interweaving momentarily before I readjust the crown, liking how it feels.
“But I can’t get the prize. It’s unethical.”
“It isn’t. I found it in the art school basement.
You deserve to win something for all your hard work, Clara.
” My words stick in my throat. Knowing what a hellscape the art school basement is after venturing down there looking for a fresh paintbrush during nativity preparations, I know what it took for Jack to do this for me.
There’s a warm, comforting feeling blooming in the center of my chest when his hands run down my arms. “And I’m going to buy you that drink at the tavern. ”
Visitors and residents are everywhere, and we said that it wouldn’t happen again, but the desire to grip the front of Jack’s coat and pull his mouth to mine is fiercer than ever.
“This isn’t going to help your reputation as a kleptomaniac,” I say slowly.
Jack’s laugh bellows against the noise of traffic and people.
“Thank you. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. ”
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek into his chest. One of his arms covers my shoulder, the other holding the back of my head.
I look up as he looks down, our lips inches apart.
It would be so easy… but we said we wouldn’t.
I take a step back, freeing myself from him.
“I guess I can forgive you for being late.”
Jack’s eyes are brooding with something as he rubs his hand against his growing stubble. “I’m sorry I was late. It’s a mess down there.” Jack checks out the tree. “You want a closer look?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Come on,” he says gently, throwing his arm across my shoulders.
Jack tells me about his productive day caused by avoiding customers. I give him a rundown of my food truck thoughts. It’s an unremarkable conversation and yet I feel like I’m glowing from the inside out. When we’re thirty yards away from the tree I hear my name called.
Flo is speed-walking toward us with a clipboard. Jack groans quietly but I’m immediately excited. I guess his is the normal reaction to potentially being assigned tasks on a Saturday night. I would love to be tasked with something by Flo.
“Hi, Ms. Flo,” I say cheerfully as she reaches us.
Her eyes immediately go to Jack’s arm on my shoulder.
He drops it as I subtly shake it off. She clears her throat.
“Clara.” She says my name like she’s holding the worst news of my life.
It’s more than a little alarming. “I just wanted to tell you.” That someone has died?
“That your stamp book idea was excellent. Everyone is reporting record-high sales. All in all, it’s a roaring success. So, thank you.”
It takes real effort to stop my jaw from literally dropping. My words are lodged behind a lump in my throat for the second time. “Yeah, I had a great day,” Jack says, buying me some time.
“Hmm, don’t think I don’t know you haven’t been seen all day, Jack Kelly,” Flo snaps.
“Thank you, Ms. Flo,” I eventually manage to choke out. “I’m glad it helped.”
“Enjoy your evening.”
I watch her walk away in a daze. I’m going to be chasing this high for the rest of my life. Jack takes one look at my lovestruck face and bursts out laughing again. It drags me from my mental fairy tale where I’m Flo’s right-hand woman and we run this town together like a well-oiled machine.
“Let’s get you to the tavern before you start chasing after her like a puppy,” Jack says softly, nudging me out of my minor Flo-related trance.
J ACK DOESN’T LET ME TAKE my crown off even though the tavern is full of people.
It’s so busy that he ends up helping Tommy behind the bar, something he did when Tommy first opened and didn’t have money to pay for another pair of hands.
The irony that Jack spent the day avoiding his own customers to end up dealing with someone else’s isn’t lost on me.
Or him, as he confirms when he finishes up for the night.
The streets are a lot quieter now that it’s late. “It’s going to snow,” Jack says, angling his face toward the sky.
“Oh my God, are you one of those people who can smell when snow is coming? That’s so cool.” He holds out his phone; the weather app notification is right at the top. “You could’ve just lied to me. I would’ve believed you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. So, do you like your crown? Was it worth maxing out your credit card for?”
I can’t help but smile as I nod, careful not to tip it off my head. “I do. I haven’t been given a crown since college.”
“College?” he asks, confused. “What were you doing to get a crown in college?”
“I won a wet T-shirt contest in Miami during spring break.”
“Great.” He rubs at his temple, shaking his head. “Congratulations. Have you recovered yet?”
“From the wet T-shirt contest?”
“From Flo, Clara.”
“Oh. No. She thanked me,” I say. We’re approaching my door, it’s the end of the night, and I’m still in shock. “My idea helped. I actually did something to help.”
“Why do you underestimate yourself? You’ve been helping since you got here.”
We come to a slow stop just outside my front door. “I owe you a thank-you. For vocalizing your support to Flo, for working your ass off to finish the stamps, for believing in the idea. So thank you, Jack.”
“I already told you, Clara. You’re capable of anything you put your mind to. I’d back you every time.”
That glowing feeling in my chest gets a little brighter. “I guess this is good night.”
“I guess it is.” The air between us is heavy. I flex my fingers, will myself to head to the door, but I can’t move. Jack’s eyes burn into mine so intensely that it’s hard to breathe. It’s like I can hear the threads of restraint holding us back from each other quietly pop as they snap.
Jack’s mouth crashes into mine, his lips hot and bruising.
My back hits the wall beside the door and his body presses into me.
My hands pull at his hair, trying to get him closer somehow.
He grips my hips, squeezing tight. This wasn’t supposed to happen again, but I can’t find it in me to care. Or stop.
His tongue slips into my mouth and the moan I can’t hold back seems to snap him out of it. He stops, resting his forehead against mine as we try to catch our breaths.
“This isn’t very one-time-thing of us,” I murmur quietly, even though we’re the only people around.
“I know. I should probably go back to my own house and my own bed.” His nose brushes mine gently. “It isn’t the same without you in it.”
“You definitely shouldn’t come inside.” I peck a kiss to his swollen lips. “That wouldn’t be good.”
“Definitely not.”
“Unless,” I say, my breath catching as he kisses my jaw.
“Unless,” he repeats.
“Unless we just don’t overthink it. One time doesn’t need to be literal, right? It could be an umbrella term for a collection of times.” Jack sucks beneath my ear and my legs shake. “One could be for my one visit to Fraser Falls. Casual. Super casual and string-free.”
“Is that a smart idea?” he asks into my neck, giving no indication that he cares. His hand slips beneath my sweater, his cold hand up my spine spreading goose bumps across my body. My hands cling to his muscular shoulders as I try to stay upright.
His free hand squeezes my ass and travels down the back of my thigh. “Doesn’t have to be smart to be good.”
To my surprise, Jack frees himself and takes a cautious step backward.
His eyes travel over every inch of me, but he says nothing.
I wait to hear him be the voice of reason.
Remind me I’m going to leave, that we said one time and we should mean it, that nothing good will come from being impulsive and reckless.
I watch his shoulder move as he takes a deep breath and I mentally prepare for the smile and nod I’ll give him when I tell him he’s right.
“Fuck it.”