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Mancandy Crush

Page 11

by Tawna Fenske


  Austin clears his throat beside her. “Just a tiny bit.”

  Everyone laughs, which Bree doesn’t seem to mind. She’s grinning like she got her Christmas wish, and I guess she did.

  “We’ve had several of you sign up,” she continues. “So we’re just about ready for the part of this Christmas wedding I’ve been excited about all week.”

  She smiles at Austin, who leans in to speak his line into the mic. “Time for Christmas Carol-oke.”

  There’s a smattering of applause as Bree consults a notepad in her hand. “First up are Jade and Amber King doing their version of ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.’”

  Everyone claps as the two reindeer ranching sisters take the stage. They’re wearing Christmassy-looking dresses, and Amber’s sporting a pair of antlers on a headband.

  “You are such a dork,” Jade mutters close enough to the mic that we all hear, but she’s smiling.

  Amber grins back and whips out a second set of antlers. “Twinsies,” she says, plunking them onto Jade’s head.

  The crowd laughs, and I feel a funny glow behind my breastbone. I never noticed before how cool sister bonds are. It’s one of a million little things I’ve grown to appreciate about Val. That I’ll spend all my days appreciating if she’ll let me.

  The music starts, and the King sisters do their thing. It’s charming and clever and exactly what my jangling nerves need.

  Mark Bracelyn looks at me. “This is your plan?”

  “What?”

  He nods at the stage. “Saw you signing up. And I saw her at the wedding looking like someone kicked her dog.”

  “What does that have to do with—”

  “Figured you fucked up,” he says good-naturedly. “Or she did. Or hell, you both did. It’s a smart guy who takes his share of blame and fucking fixes it.”

  I stare at him for a second. “I think I saw that cross-stitched on a pillow.”

  He doesn’t smile, and I’m left digesting his words. It’s a smart guy who takes his share of blame.

  Smart. That’s never been me, but maybe it could be.

  “Thanks,” I tell Mark.

  He nods and leans past me to point to the untouched cake on an older woman’s plate. “You gonna eat that?”

  I go back to ignoring him as the King sisters wrap up and Bree takes the mic back.

  “Beautiful job, ladies!” She rests a hand on the rounded bump of her belly, and my own belly does a backflip as she consults her notepad.

  “Up next, we have Josh Mattis with his rendition of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’”

  My heart starts hammering in my eardrums. As I stand, my knees threaten to buckle, but I force them to carry me to the front of the room and onto the stage. Force my clammy hand to take the mic as I murmur some words of gratitude and congratulations to Bree and Austin.

  I take a deep breath and scan the crowd. No sign of Val. There are curious faces, familiar faces, even a few tipsy ones. But no Val.

  Shit.

  I look at Bree, who gives me an encouraging smile. “We could stall,” she whispers. “If you’re waiting for—someone.”

  It’s tempting.

  It’s even more tempting to climb down off this stage and skip the part where I make a total fucking fool of myself.

  I look at Bree, then at the DJ standing behind the sound equipment. They’re all watching me, waiting to see what comes next.

  I straighten up and grip the mic tighter. “Hit it.”

  Chapter 11

  VALERIE

  As I walk out of the restroom, I hear the unmistakable first notes of my favorite Christmas song. It’s the one Ness and I used to belt out in the backseat as our parents drove us to grandma’s house, pigtails swinging as we hollered about lords a-leaping and turtle doves and all the other gifts that sounded so glamorous at the time

  I quicken my pace, not wanting to miss a word. As I round the corner to the main room, I freeze.

  “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...” Josh grips the mic in one hand and a notepad in the other, his face pale but determined. “…a super-awkward family affair.”

  Audience members laugh and shovel cake into their faces, but I just stand there staring. What is he—? Why is he—?

  “On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,” he continues. “Two tasty strumpets and a super-awkward family affair.”

  His gaze swings to mine and a slow, wobbly smile spreads over his face. He’s sweating like he just hiked the mountain, and fear of humiliation glows on his face.

  But there’s something else there. Something that looks alarmingly like love.

  “On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeee—three shaky chairlifts, two tasty strumpets, and a super-awkward family affair.”

  More laughter from the audience, but they’re laughing with him, not at him. I hope he knows that. I hope he knows how fucking brave this is, that I recognize what this means. That he’s putting himself out there, risking embarrassment, for me.

  Because that’s what this is, right?

  Josh grins wider and keeps going. “On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to meeee— four baby reindeer, three shaky chairlifts, two tasty strumpets, and a super-awkward family affair.”

  The audience is getting into it now, laughing and clapping. They’re missing the references, but they don’t care. They probably think he’s drunk or goofy or both, but he’s neither of those things.

  He’s bold as hell for pushing past his fear of feeling dumb, past his struggle with numbers.

  It’s the bravest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.

  He fumbles a little between six and seven, tripping over the numbers. I watch a fresh sheen of sweat break out on his forehead, and I start toward the stage to save him.

  But Josh saves himself.

  “Sing along now,” he calls to a gleeful audience. “Eight fancy eggnogs, seven well-aimed rifles, six scary raft trips, fiiiiiive thatching ants.” That gets another laugh, but he’s not watching the crowd. His eyes are locked on mine.

  I can’t look away, can’t stop watching as my heart swells in my chest. “Four baby reindeer, three shaky chairlifts, two tasty strumpets, and a super-awkward family affair.”

  An unexpected happy tear rolls down my cheek, and I swipe it away with the back of my hand. From somewhere beside me, Ness materializes with a tissue.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, mopping at my face. “Did you help with—”

  “Only a little.” She smiles and claps along with the crowd. “This was all him.”

  “Last verse, everyone,” Josh calls as he switches the mic to his other hand. “Twelve fears of dying, eleven moonlight boat rides, ten childhood traumas, nine messed up cell phones, eight fancy eggnogs, seven well-aimed rifles, six scary raft trips, fiiiiiive thatching ants.”

  I step forward, moving toward him like I’m being pulled by a magnet. His eyes stay locked with mine as he belts out the last few lines. “Four baby reindeer, three shaky chairlifts, two tasty strumpets, and a super-awkward family affair.”

  I’m climbing onto the stage before I’ve made up my mind to do it. He’s holding the final note as I throw my arms around him and squeeze him so tightly his voice wobbles.

  Then he drops the mic and notepad and pulls me into his arms, kissing me hard and deep and urgently as the crowd goes nuts. One of the King sisters gives a catcall whistle, and someone else shouts at us to get a room.

  But I don’t care. All I care about right now is Josh Mattis, and the fact that he was willing to do this for me.

  “I love you,” I tell him. “I know it’s too soon, and this was only supposed to be a sex fling, but –”

  “The mic’s still on,” someone shouts from the front row.

  Bree steps onto stage and scoops up the microphone, throwing us a wink as she switches it off and goes back to applauding.

  “I love you, too,” Josh says. “And I don’t care how soon it
is. When you know, you know. And I fucking know.”

  So do I. And I also don’t care that I might end up with my heart broken or my pride wounded or any other risk this carries. It’s worth it for even one second of feeling like I do now.

  Behind us, Bree dabs her eyes with a tissue. “That was beautiful,” she sniffles. “Damn pregnancy hormones.”

  Austin laughs and pulls her close. The crowd keeps clapping like they might never stop, but it doesn’t freak me out. Standing on this stage, being as vulnerable as I’ve ever been, is the strongest I’ve felt in my whole life.

  “I love you,” I say again. “So damn much.”

  “Merry July Christmas wedding,” he says. “That’s a holiday, right?”

  “Right.” I laugh and stretch up to kiss him. “Happy holidays.”

  So damn happy.

  Epilogue

  JOSH

  Three months later

  “At this time, the captain has switched on the fasten seatbelt sign.” The flight attendant makes her announcement in a voice that’s way too chipper for someone who’s spent the last sixteen hours doling out blankets and cocktails to cranky passengers. “We’ll be landing in Christchurch in just a few minutes.”

  I glance at Valerie and squeeze her hand. “Ready for this?”

  She nods, biting her lip as she glances out the window. “I hope you like the apartment,” she says. “It’s right by the river.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

  Just like I love her. More every single day, which I never in my wildest dreams thought possible.

  As the plane glides slowly toward land, my heart kicks up a notch. It’s not just my first time in New Zealand, but my first time on a plane. My first time leaving the country. I touch the outline of my phone in my pocket, comforted by the knowledge it’s loaded with currency conversion apps. With a calculator that’ll make the numbers thing easier.

  I will never be a math whiz, but at least I’ve got help.

  That’s not the only thing making me feel safe and secure and exactly where I’m meant to be in this moment.

  “I’m so glad you invited me,” I tell Val. “I never thought I’d be doing this.”

  “That makes two of us.” She squeezes my hand and smiles. “I’m so happy I decided to give this a try.”

  Us. The TV show. I’m not actually sure which she means, but I’m happy, too.

  I’m even happier she made the decision all on her own, that she decided to take the plunge on the dress show. She even traveled solo to find a place where we could both stay. I was busy tying up loose ends with the sale of Dreamland Tours, and Vanessa was getting settled into her new life back in Oregon.

  It was Val who insisted she travel alone. “I want to prove I can do it on my own,” she told me.

  “You don’t have to,” I assured her. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”

  “I know.” She smiled, showing those dimples I love so much. “I want to prove it to me.”

  It’s one of a zillion things I love about her, and I can’t fucking believe I got lucky enough to find her. To travel halfway around the globe with her to do things I never dreamed would be possible.

  The plane bumps down, and I suck in a breath. It’s a new sensation, but not an unpleasant one. Probably a lot like riding a chairlift for the first time.

  Val squeezes my hand. “Just think,” she says. “You’ll get to do the Rangitata Gorge,” she says. “The Landsborough, too, when we go to the North Island.”

  I’ve lined up work with a raft company with sites all over the globe, a chance to earn my keep while we’re out on Val’s tour of international wedding gown magic. “Seems like fate,” I tell her. “Finding a way to chase our dreams at the same time.”

  But it’s not fate. It’s so much more than blind chance, than stumbling dumbly into something unexpected.

  We’ve made this happen, Val and me. We’ve faced fears and doubts and our own damn shortcomings, shoving all that shit aside so we could do this together.

  “You ready?” She hefts her purse from under the seat in front of us and smiles.

  That smile, those dimples—God, I will never get tired of watching her face in motion. Watching her blurt out her hopes and fears, watching her eyes go wide with pleasure.

  Watching her fall asleep beside me every night.

  I start to grab for the overhead compartment but reach for her instead. The crowd at the front of the plane starts to move, but I pull her close for one more kiss.

  “I’m ready for anything,” I tell her. “Anything and everything.”

  ***

  There’s more in store for the Ponderosa Resort Romantic Comedy Series, including Captain Dreamboat (that’s Jonathan and Blanka’s story) and Dr. Hot Stuff (Isabella and Bradley). Both are in the works now!

  You’ll also get another chance to hang with Valerie’s sister, Vanessa, in a new spinoff series launching soon. Keep scrolling to make sure you’re always first to know what’s coming next…

  Don’t Miss Out!

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  Get it right here.

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  Acknowledgments

  Acknowledgments

  I’m so grateful to my street teamers, Fenske’s Frisky Posse, for busting ass with this one and going the extra mile with quick reads and speedy reviews. You ladies are the best! Extra-big thanks to Suzanne Kabisch, Adrienne Bird, Regina Dowling, Nicole Westmoreland, and Rachel Kennedy for catching typos in ARCs. Thank you to Cherie LaDouceur Lord for the ringtone, and to Carrie Trimble for the “not like the other girls” line.

  A huge round of applause and lots of awkward but pats for all the authors in the 2019 Christmas in July promo that spawned this novella. Best of luck to Kim Law, Bria Quinlan, Terri Osburn, Jill Sanders, Cynthia D’Alba, Savannah Kade, Abby Tyler, Sandra Owens, Heidi Hutchinson, Tess Thompson, and Lizze Shane. Readers, go check out their stories here: http://bit.ly/ChristmasInJuly2019Romance

  Thank you to Valerie Warren for lending me both your name and your knowledge of Mt. Bachelor’s summertime landscape. I owe you a Manhattan or six.

  Much love and thanks to Wonder Assistant Meah Meow for keeping all my balls in the air (not to mention caressing them lovingly) when my family vacation fell smack dab in the middle of Stiff Suit’s release week and ARC distribution for Mancandy Crush. Thank you for keeping me sane(ish).

  Big, gooey gobs of thanks to Susan Bischoff and Lauralynn Elliott of The Forge for the amazing editorial work, and to Lori Jackson Design for the fantastic teaser graphics.

  Love and gratitude to my family, Aaron “Russ” Fenske and Carlie Fenske (and baby Paxton!) and Dixie and David Fenske for always being there. Thanks also to Cedar and Violet for being amazing kiddos.

  And thanks especially to Craig for being nuts enough to marry a romance author. Love you, Hottie.

  About the Author

  When Tawna Fenske finished her English lit degree at 22, she celebrated by filling a giant trash bag full of romance novels and dragging it everywhere until she’d read them all. Now she’s a RITA Award finalist, USA Today bestselling author who writes humorous fiction, risqué romance, and heartwarming love stories with a quirky twist. Publishers Weekly has praised Tawna’s offbeat romances with multiple starred reviews and noted, “There’s something wonderfully relaxing about being immersed in a story filled with over-the-top characters in undeniably relatable situations. Heartache and humor go hand in hand.”

  Tawna lives in Bend, Oregon, with her husband, step-kids, and a menagerie of ill-behaved pets. She loves hiking, snowshoeing, standup paddleboarding, and inventing excuses to sip wine on her back porch. She can peel a banana with her toes and loses an average of
twenty pairs of eyeglasses per year. To find out more about Tawna and her books, visit www.tawnafenske.com.

  Also by Tawna Fenske

  The Ponderosa Resort Romantic Comedies Series

  Studmuffin Santa

  Chef Sugarlips

  Sergeant Sexypants

  Hottie Lumberjack

  Stiff Suit

  Mancandy Crush (novella)

  * * *

  Standalone Romantic Comedies

  At the Heart of It

  This Time Around

  Now That It’s You

  Let it Breathe

  About That Fling

  Frisky Business

  Believe It or Not

  Making Waves

  * * *

  The Front and Center Series

  Marine for Hire

  Fiancée for Hire

  Best Man for Hire

  Protector for Hire

  * * *

  The First Impressions Series

  The Fix Up

  The Hang Up

  The Hook Up

  * * *

  The List Series

  The List

  The Test

  The Last

  * * *

  Schultz Sisters Mysteries

  Getting Dumped

  The Great Panty Caper (novella)

  * * *

  Standalone novellas and other wacky stuff

  Going Up (novella)

  Eat, Play, Lust (novella)

 

 

 

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