“I heard,” I muttered. “You guys owe me. Big.”
“Fuck,” Bash’s voice said. “Who told you?”
“Does it matter?” I countered and heard Austin laugh in the background.
“Look, we will all pitch in and help.”
“But I’m the sad sack stuck playing Santa? Since when are you and Rave going to Disneyland?”
“Since I found out she’s been dying to go, and I want to make her happy and maybe tell her I love her in front of the fucking castle. That okay with you?” I blinked. I was happy one of my sisters was dating one of my best friends.But Jesus, couldn’t he have picked a better time than this?
“That’s fine with me. As long as she’s happy, I’m happy,” I muttered and heard him chuckle.
“Oh, I’m making sure of that.” I frowned. I didn’t need to know the details of how he was getting the job done. “Look, it won’t be that hard,” he said, and I was thankful for the change of subject. “I even have a volunteer list ready. We had some people reach out online when they heard about it.”
“You did?” This shouldn’t have surprised me. It was Moonlit Pines, after all. Everyone pitched in when they could with however they could. I’d seen it throughout my childhood but had been reminded of it during the whole Halloween maze thing Austin had roped us into.
“Yeah, man, this is important.”
“What’s it for again?” I tried to rack my brain to remember if Rusty had mentioned what the funds were for.
“The kids’ athletics department the city runs,” he shared.
Shit. It was important. I remembered playing in those when I was a kid. It had made a huge difference in my own life. My parents didn’t have a lot, but they’d been able to swing baseball gear all throughout my childhood because I’d been obsessed as a kid. Hell, the brewery sponsored a couple of soccer teams this year.
“Email me all the details, and I’ll look at it when I get into the office,” I muttered.
“Already done. Including the volunteer list.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. There was something in Austin’s tone that made me suspicious. “Why is that important?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because less than five minutes ago, a certain hardware store employee signed up to help out?”
“I’m not in the mood for games, Austin.”
“Candace Kane,” he said, and I swallowed hard.
Staying away from my snowflake wasn’t going to happen. Not anymore.
No, maybe this whole fundraiser thing could work to my advantage, after all?
3
candy
I wipedsweat from my forehead as I glanced around the pieces that would become Santa’s workshop once it was all set up. It had been three days of hauling my ass over here instead of the hardware store. And honestly, even though I was working in close quarters with Onyx, since it was his garage-slash-workshop I was building, it had been a much-needed break from Uncle Rusty.
I was finishing up painting the swirls of a candy cane the size of me. It was the fourth and last one I’d be working on. I stretched as I stared at the piece and the other three behind it, ignoring the tight muscles in my back.
The older I got, the more I realized Moonlit Pines really showed up for one another in the most unexpected of ways. The small little mountain town in California that was safely tucked away had seen many economic highs and lows through the years, much like other places did. Honestly, after the recession, I wasn’t sure what would happen to our little town. But somehow, slowly but surely, it had picked itself up and dusted itself off. And fundraisers like the one the brewery and other places held helped. Every little bit helped.
Lost in my thoughts as I tried to ignore the fact that for the first time in the last three days, Onyx and I were completely alone, I didn’t hear him move through his workshop. Nope. I felt him when it was all but too late.
Onyx Trejo.
His large, strong body moved behind me. Close enough to feel his heat but not close enough to touch, and something about that made me ache. I wanted to feel him. Even if the thought was as stupid as it came. I’d cried all over the man after holding on to a mean grudge for him not finding me attractive. But then I’d found out about the fundraiser and signed up to volunteer in hopes that my Uncle Rusty would see my work and finally get it through his head that I was capable of running the hardware store on my own. My one last attempt to prove to him I was good enough.
Because regardless of his decision, come this new year, I would only be working at one place. I was determined after talking to my girls, Jackie, Libby, and Lola.
