Chapter 24
Laurin’s feelings for Candace had changed throughout the month of December — for the better.
Every episode was a piece of her, every distant glance and absent smile, every gnaw on her bottom lip and tap of her nail.
Every time he had to get close to the screen to make sure he was right and her whole body was vibrating, no doubt a foot shaking behind her work station.
Every little thing made him feel surer that he was making the right decision with her, and what he wanted from her extended far beyond the bedroom.
So heading to the campground on Christmas Eve, he was filled with an anticipation that was entirely pure and without any of the nuances that led to swole arms. When he saw her, he was sure that everything he felt would be in his heart.
He was wrong, of course. Her sweater was snug.
Not unflatteringly so; everything she’d worn in November had been slightly loose on her, but this was fitted.
A dark forest green sweater that looked soft and dense over a plaid skirt that was just barely long enough to meet her stockings.
It showed off her profile as she talked to Jannie and, yep, Laurin’s thoughts zoomed far away from pure with a quickness.
When he squatted down to talk to Vivvy before letting the girl loose on Candace, he shamelessly peeked under her skirt.
Only enough to see a scant inch of creamy skin above those thigh-high stockings, but it was more than enough.
One day, he would hunt Aunt Miriam down and kiss her for making those wondrous stockings.
There was little time to socialize before they were called to the pavilion, and it was for the best. Poor Candace looked near to tears.
Laurin loved being smothered by his family most of the time, particularly in the years following the end of his football career, but he wasn’t surprised that Candace was overwhelmed by three enthusiastic generations.
She even looked to Laurin for help when mom started babbling in French after trying one of the cookies — the highest compliment from the woman was to make her forget her English — and didn’t that just warm Laurin right down to his soul?
And other places.
He said his goodbyes and hooked his arm with Candace’s.
A friendly gesture, could not possibly be mistaken for anything more intense, but he was sure everyone had seen the episodes leading up to today.
He wouldn’t have been surprised if Mike had deliberately had the later episodes edited to hint at their budding relationship.
Everyone, from the crew to the cast — everyone had returned for the finale — to their families, was watching the pair walk by.
Laurin leaned down to say, “They’re marveling at how beautiful you are.”
Candace tutted and looked away from him, but he could see the glow of her cheeks still. From his angle, directly above her, he also got a lovely peek at her cleavage. Very lovely. “They’re staring because you’re making a scene.”
“We’re making a scene,” he corrected.
“Hardly.”
“Admit it, you’re excited to see me. I can tell.”
She took the bait, shooting a glare as she said, “What does that mean? How can—” Her eyes went round as she slapped her other arm over her chest and muttered, “It’s not you. It’s just cold.”
“I’m excited to see you too,” he confided. “I’m not having any problems with the cold. You should see how long my—”
“Oh my god!” Candace cried out, catching everyone’s attention so that Laurin couldn’t possibly get away with any more of that talk, but that was fine. He’d said his piece. Mission accomplished for now.
The inside of the pavilion had a different sort of look to it today.
Still Christmassy, yes, but not nearly as overblown as before.
More like it had been for the dinner challenge, but no creepy mannequin family this time, either.
This was a professional, serious Christmas.
This was a Christmas for getting down to business. For winning.
Candace’s hand was shaking.
Laurin took a glance in his peripheral at her, schooling his eyes ahead at Patty, already waiting for them and waving happily.
Candace wasn’t even seeing the wave. Her eyes weren’t on what she was looking at, either, because it was clear she wasn’t looking at anything at all.
Her lips were pulled taut, her teeth terrorizing the bottom one, and even midstride and with one hand tucked in with Laurin’s, she was managing to tap.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently. “Is it me? I was only teasing. I didn’t mean to—”
“I’m going to lose today,” she said sadly, distantly, as she slipped free from him to take a spot next to Patty, pulling in close enough that it seemed he had no choice but to stand on Patty’s other side.
There was no time to try to chat further.
Hair and make-up came down upon them, buffing the shine off their faces and shellacking their hair to keep it from wrecking continuity.
There was griping about how Laurin should have been in a green shirt and Candace in blue to complement their eyes better, and Laurin made a crack about how they complemented each other, which got giggles from the woman fighting him over lip balm, and the moment they ran off, Mike was on the loudspeaker calling for quiet on the set.
“—troductions, and then we’ll give them twenty minutes to plan and — is this thing on already?
Okay, everyone listen to me. We’re currently on a five-and-a-half-hour tape delay.
The live show is going to be two hours long, and the challenge is six hours.
That means we have exactly one hour for breaks and testimonials, and that includes your fifteen minutes of planning.
This is a tight window. Lunch break will be at the three-hour mark, and you cannot miss that break.
I mean it. I know you’re all used to playing fast and loose with that timer and nudging your minutes here and there, but there will be none of that today.
If your entries break because you didn’t plan your timing accordingly, that’s on you.
Jannie and Kate will be announcing time based on the six hours, so when they say there are four hours left, that means there’s one hour left until the lunch break.
Is anyone confused? Great. Going live in thirty seconds. ”
Laurin glanced down the line at Patty and then Candace.
Both women’s faces were locked in determination.
Neither of them looked confused, so Mike must not have been looking at Laurin when he decided that no one was confused.
Thankfully, Laurin was good at follow-the-leader.
He’d figure out what all that meant as they went along.
The countdown began, and Candace and Laurin each took one of Patty’s hands, even though Laurin would have rather reached behind her to take Candace’s hand.
Lights started flashing. An extra camera on a dolly rolled in front of them, getting footage of the audience they’d arranged on a small stage they’d set up with tables — the mannequin tables, in fact — and then the countdown finished and Kate and Jannie burst straight through a paper wall done up with foil and a bow to look like a present.
To look like two game show hosts bursting out of a present.
So today may have looked more formal than previous days, but it was certainly not excessively formal.
They talked for a solid five minutes. There was a teleprompter they were reading from, and apparently, a montage of the previous episodes would be playing during this.
Laurin wasn’t sure why the speech wasn’t pre-recorded, and by the end of it, all the contestants were antsy.
Adrenaline was running high for everyone.
This wasn’t a great time to be making everyone stand around.
Laurin had already made a list of things to mention if there was a survey about how he thought the show went; he made a mental note to add this to the list. His mind was wandering, as were his eyes, up to the roof, noticing for the first time that there were bats living up there, when there was suddenly a big applause and two cameras on him.
Oops.
“So we’ve gotten our tree and our cookies for Santa,” Kate said.
Jannie said, “There was a surprise wedding, too.”
“A dinner that could not be beat and some wonderful candies,” Kate added.
“There’s really only one thing left to do,” Jannie finished.
Together, they shouted, “Gingerbread houses!”
Laurin took a deep breath and let a genuine smile tease at his lips. He’d predicted this. There’d be more to the challenge — there always was — but he had three different gingerbread recipes, all tested and analyzed for their strengths and weaknesses, in his notebook. He was ready.
The usual forced excitement in the row was awkward with only three people, and Laurin couldn’t help but see that even though Candace was laughing and saying how much she loved gingerbread, the space between her brows was heavily creased. She wasn’t prepared for this.
Except she was. She’d baked gingerbread before for the bake-off.
Laurin couldn’t remember what the season was, but she’d made a stuffed animal.
A pinata? A Trojan horse? A cookie creature filled with sprinkles.
She hadn’t won the challenge with it, but she’d gotten high marks.
Tomorrow, when everything was back to normal, ideally a new normal with her in his arms, he’d remember everything.
For now, he only remembered the important things: she could make gingerbread, and she could make it well.
So why was she stressing so much?
Her words came back to him. I’m going to lose today.
His stomach sank. Sure, he’d thought about how things were going to play out here. He’d considered the fact that this was not a great situation for their new and admittedly unstable-at-best relationship, especially with how stubborn she was being. He needed to win. She understood that.
Or did she?