Sweet Treats

by Jean Oram

  “You’re doing this for food?” Amber asked Scott.

  “I’m a growing boy. I need a lot of calories.”

  That was true. Her friend had turned into a brick wall of muscle and manhood, and probably used more calories per day than she consumed in a week. Okay, that was a lie. One look at her hips and generous midriff told the real story of her own daily caloric intake. But if she and Scott weren’t best friends, and if she wasn’t living with another guy, she might make a play for him.

  Oh, wow. She really needed to think about something besides Scott’s hot body or she was going to have fantasies about his strong arms, and then she’d never be able to look at him again.

  She absently scrawled her answers to the questions written on the index cards provided by Nicola. Amber’s responses would need to match up with Scott’s verbal ones in order to earn a point. No problem; they’d been friends forever and he could read her mind as though it was his own.

  “First question,” Nicola announced, after she’d collected the women’s cards. “If your girlfriend/wife could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

  “Have another healthy baby,” Beth’s husband replied. A point for them. That was lame. She was already expecting.

  “Expand her restaurant,” Mandy’s boyfriend replied.

  “Of course. Everyone knows that. These are so obvious,” Amber muttered.

  “No talking,” Nicola warned. “Scott? Your turn to answer.”

  Amber had a moment of panic. The only thing she really wanted right now was to feel secure in her relationship. What had she written down? Surely not that?

  Scott met her eyes and she froze.

  “Learn to fly a floatplane,” he replied, his expression giving nothing away.

  “How did you know that?” Amber squeaked. She hadn’t told a soul about that. Not even Russell.

  Nicola frowned. “Not what we have as her answer. Sorry, no point.”

  “Okay.” Amber placed her palms on her thighs and pushed herself up. “Well, I’m done.”

  “Don’t be a sore loser.” Scott grasped her hand, keeping her from escaping. The crowd booed her.

  “How am I the villain? I have a boyfriend who I’m totally in love with.” She pointed to Scott. “And it’s not him.”

  “Aw, come on,” he said, patting the seat beside him. “Everyone knows we’re only friends.”

  Members of the audience nodded. Traitors.

  Amber sat reluctantly, arms crossed, brow furrowed. She was pretty sure this wasn’t how good girlfriends behaved. Maybe Russell would be in the right if he left her behind.

  Scott got the next question correct, and the next one. Then they switched to questions about the men. The first was a total gimme.

  Best vacation ever? Simple. “When his Grandpa Wes took him to the see the dog show in Dakota for Scott’s eleventh birthday. He had secretly entered Scott’s dog, Whiskey, who won. Technically not a vacation, but that’s what Scott would answer.”

  Her best friend smiled fondly. “You remember that?”

  “You didn’t stop talking about it. Ever.”

  He laughed as Nicola gave them the point. One point behind Beth. Two questions left.

  Amber got them both right. So did her friend.

  “Runners-up for this round are Scott and Amber.” The two of them stood. “However, word on the street says they are not a couple, and therefore they’re disqualified.” Nicola took the offered bouquet and handed it to the third-place couple.

  “Rip-off!” Amber said to Scott. The indignity. They’d almost won those flowers fair and square. “And I can’t believe you tried to scam your way into winning that couples contest, Officer Malone. Whatever happened to upholding the law?”

  “Don’t make me come over there,” he taunted, one hand on his holster as she made her way toward the edge of the stage. “I’ve seen you speed through town.”

  She spun and squared off with him. “I’d like to see you try and catch me, Officer.”

  The audience rooted for Scott, encouraging him to lunge at her, knocking her windless as he swept her over his shoulder and off the stage amid hoots and hollers from the town.

  “Amber?” Trey, a local teen, asked as Scott put her down. “These are for you.” He held up a bouquet of roses.

  “But we didn’t win,” she said with a laugh, shoving Scott away as he tried to mess up her hair.

  “They’re from Russell. And he says thanks for the dancing, singing guy dressed up as a bear.”

  “Oh, um, right.” Amber accepted the roses, her laughter dying.

  Russell. She’d almost forgotten about him.

  She buried her nose in the flowers and turned to ask Scott what he was doing next only to find him being whisked away by several of Blueberry Springs’s most eligible bachelorettes.

  Alone again to battle Valentine’s Day as though she was a single woman living in a couples’ world. Great. Just great.

  * * *

  Amber wove her way through the departing audience, head down. Suddenly wanting nothing more than a few moments to straighten out her thoughts and feelings, she hurried around the first corner she could find.

  “Oh, Amber!” Mary Alice, the local gossip, snagged her. She spread out her arms for a big, warm hug that smelled of cigarettes. It was surprisingly good. Must be the woman’s massive bosom—nice and cushiony and with no hint of the tin of mints she usually kept hidden in her bra. “You and Scott make such a cute couple.” Mary Alice pinched Amber’s cheek, her eyes glowing with mischief.

  “We’re not a couple. I’m with Russell.” She waved the red roses, which had gotten slightly squished in the embrace. “And he’s going to be here soon.”

  “Mmm. He’s such a steamy hunk of man, you lucky gal. Tell him I say hi, and to save me a turn or two around the dance floor tonight.”

  “I will.”

  “It looked like you and Scott had fun though?” The woman raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on her lips as if she knew something Amber didn’t.

  Amber smiled guiltily. She should have been up there with Russell, not Scott.

  “Yeah, fun.” She excused herself and hurried away. She needed to sit down with a drink and get herself sorted out. Being with Scott was easy, because he was her best friend, nothing more.

  Making her way outdoors, she slipped down the snowy sidewalks to Brew Babies, where she pulled up a tall stool. Moe, who was tending bar, took one look at her and slid a shot of vodka her way. “On the house. Looks like you could use it.”

  “Thanks,” she said, before quickly downing the contents and passing back the glass.

  “Another?”

  “No, thanks.” She took in her surroundings. Oh, heck. She was in the middle of the couples’ darts and billiards competition. She couldn’t get away from this stupid holiday.

  It was supposed to be different this year. Much different.

  A stud muffin of a man dressed as Cupid strode by, an intricate “Mother” tattoo on his bicep catching Amber’s eye as he paused, turned and flexed, pretending to shoot her with an arrow.

  She blinked and turned to Moe who was laughing as he dried a glass. She did not just see that hunky-monkey showcasing all the heavens had offered him in the genetic raffle. Too bad he was going to freeze his junk off as soon as he stepped outdoors without a coat. What a waste. She totally could have set him up with someone who’d appreciate all that buffness.

  She rubbed her eyes and stole a second peek at Cupid. Firm butt. Shiny bald, super sexy head, and a crazy set of wings. Yep, he needed someone to set him up with someone who would encourage him not to wear getups in public. But not herself, of course, because this year she didn’t need Cupid. However, her friend Scott did. Why was he even still single? He was such a catch.

  The thought of not needing Cupid for herself, but for Scott, was more bothersome than she figured it should be. Before she could sort out why, a familiar male voice asked, “How’s Blueberry Springs’s funnest gal?”


  She turned to see John smiling as he sat down beside her, polishing his fogged up reading glasses on his collared shirt.

  “Fun and on the loose,” she replied before ordering him a shot. Always just one shot of vodka. Never a beer or anything else.

  “Thanks.” He tipped the drink into his mouth. “Know what goes well with vodka shots?”

  “Salted nuts.” Amber tugged the bowl over.

  “You got that right.”

  They sat in silence, munching away as they watched the darts competition going on behind them via the bar’s long mirror.

  “Bar nuts have the highest fecal matter of any food,” she said finally.

  John pushed the bowl away and ordered another shot, giving her a sidelong, disgusted look. “To sterilize my mouth.”

  Amber laughed, ordering one for herself, as well. There was something so comfortable and familiar about John. She could sit for hours with him even though he was as old as her mom. And the way he’d helped out her friends with some pro bono work was pretty cool, too. Not bad for an old guy. If she had to choose anyone she knew to be her secret father, it would be him. Too bad he already had a family.

  “Nice flowers,” he said, glancing at her roses.

  “Thanks.”

  “Russell treating you right?”

  She paused to think about it, then smiled. “I’d love for him to spend more time with me, of course—he’s been so busy. But yeah, he’s treating me well.” And really, gave her no valid reason to be so worried about their relationship. What a silly goose she was.

  John watched her for a second as though ready to jump to her defense, then seemingly satisfied with her reply, relaxed. “Glad to hear it.”

  Scott took the free seat on her other side, ordering himself a draft. “Thought I might find you here.”

  “Stalking me, are you? Couldn’t stay away from me, my quick wit, and supersoft sexy thighs?”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Just thought you might want a friend before you fell into a destructive cycle of self-hate, but I can see you’re already on your way. Kudos.” He tipped his glass toward her empty shot in a toasting motion. “Hey, John,” he added over her head.

  “Scott.” John gave him a nod and turned to chat with Moe about which lunch specials were least likely to give him a premature heart attack.

  “I can’t believe you have the audacity to still call yourself a friend.” Amber poked Scott in the arm, hurting her finger in the process. “Ow. What are you made of? Steel?”

  He grinned and took a sip of his beer, watching her over the glass’s rim.

  Shaking her head, she continued. “Especially after offering no apologies for the way you made half the town think we’re a couple. What is Russell going to think when he finds out?”

  Scott tapped the bar with his index fingers, brow furrowed. “Nah. You guys are tight, he’ll understand we were just playing around.”

  Amber watched her friend in the mirror. For whatever reason, she always felt as though she was at her best around Scott and she could never become truly upset with him. It had been that way ever since he’d joined their class back when they were kids.

  Scott curved his lower lip over his top one to suck the beer foam from where his mustache used to be. Amber had always thought that was a sexy move. Too bad Russell didn’t drink beer. However, if he did, the man wouldn’t even have a chance to figure out what had hit him before she took him down due to that sexy lip move.

  “He’ll understand, Amber. I’m sure of it.” Scott gave her a steady look. It was the “it will all be okay” gaze he always sent her when she got muddled up in her head. She gently placed her hand over his, giving it a squeeze. There was nothing in the world like a best friend.

  “Hungry?” Moe asked, stopping in front of them. “We have a couple’s special on the nachos.”

  “Very funny, Moe. And just so you know, Russell and I are going to dance in your single face all night.” Because for once, she had a boyfriend and things were good.

  * * *

  Russell wasn’t coming. The dance was almost half over and there was still no sign of her boyfriend. Every worst fear about herself that Amber kept stuffed inside was fighting to pop out.

  “Where’s that man of yours hiding?” Mary Alice asked, one hand held lightly against her throat. “You didn’t scare him off, did you?”

  “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

  “That’s what you said a few hours ago.” Mary Alice assessed her, then wrapped an arm around her. “There’s not something wrong, is there? I haven’t seen that man of yours in weeks.”

  Amber clutched her drooping bouquet of roses, which she’d been carrying around for hours. Did everyone think he’d left her, and she had been fake-boyfriending her way through Valentine’s Day?

  “It’s all fine. Thanks for asking,” she chirped, handing Mary Alice off to her husband, who was waiting to have the next dance.

  Embarrassed, Amber walked to the trash and chucked the wilted bouquet. She should go home. The happy couples holding each other, confident in their love as they swayed to the music, were starting to get to her in a way that was going to make her break down. The kind of water main disaster that even a plumber couldn’t fix.

  Amber moved into the community center’s lobby, unable to completely abandon her hopes, but needing to add a sound-muffling barrier between her and the sweet love songs’ lyrics that refused to leave her alone.

  Sagging into an armchair, she buried her head in her hands, glad nobody was around. She knew she shouldn’t expect so much from Russell. He was busy, but he loved her. It would all be okay.

  However, it was Valentine’s Day. She should be allowed to expect something more than the stereotypical gift of flowers from the man she was living with, shouldn’t she?

  A puff of cold air fresh from the outdoors washed over her, and expecting her boyfriend, she looked up.

  Scott.

  A tear trickled down her cheek, but before she could register a thing, Scott had effortlessly scooped her into his arms, hugging her tight. He smoothed her hair, making her chest ache from holding it all in.

  “He’s a fool for not being here.”

  Amber wiggled out of her friend’s grasp. “He still loves me.” Her voice betrayed her, wobbling with uncertainty.

  “What’s not to love?” Scott gave her a fond chuck on the chin.

  “Everyone—” she pointed to the closed doors to the hall, “—thinks he doesn’t love me and he’s going to …” She couldn’t get the words out.

  “Hey, don’t go there. Nobody thinks that. Everyone around here just likes to snoop in someone else’s business from time to time, okay?” Scott rubbed her arms. “As long as you love Russell and know that he loves you, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

  “I know, but he’s not coming and it looks like I’m faking the whole relationship. I said he was coming.”

  “Since when did you care about what everyone else thinks?”

  She didn’t answer. It was a pretty good question.

  Scott dropped his hands onto his hips, sending her a look he’d give kids who got busted egging houses. “And why do I get the feeling that you’re hinting for permission to go run home and hide?”

  “Can I?”

  “No. Come on.” He dragged her into the dance hall. “You’re going to smile and not show a tiny speck of doubt. You’re strong, beautiful, and madly in love with a man who loves you back.”

  Amber placed her hand in her friend’s and allowed him to dance her through the crowd. As long as she had Scott, everything would be okay, even when her love life didn’t go the way she’d planned and got the best of her confidence.

  * * *

  It was the second last song and Russell still hadn’t shown. No phone call. Nothing.

  Amber’s feet hurt almost as much as her pride. Scott had stayed by her side, making sure she kept up her game face and acted as though the day hadn’t worn a hole in he
r heart. But he had been stolen away from her for the past three songs, and Amber was feeling her bravado fade like a white shirt’s brightness in a load of darks.

  She should duck out now in order to save herself from the humiliation of standing alone for the last song, which was always a long, slow one. The way people were pairing up as the dance moved toward the end, she knew there was a very good possibility she’d soon be the only person left on the sidelines.

  Sad. Alone. Pathetic.

  Definitely feeling uncool, but she could avoid it all by sneaking out while she still possessed a shred of dignity. She could go home and wait for Russell in something lacy and exciting. Maybe buy herself a box of heart shaped chocolates to eat while she waited.

  All eyes turned to her as she considered the nearest exit. She froze, certain that everyone had noticed she was the only one not partnered up and about to bolt.

  The DJ was saying something over the loudspeaker. Russell. He’d mentioned Russell. Amber turned to check the doorway. Nope, no boyfriend in sight.

  Their song. The DJ was playing their song! Russell had called to relay his apology for not making it, and had requested “Make You Feel My Love.” Russell loved her. Everything, as usual, had all been in her silly, screwed-up head.

  Amber almost fell to the floor in relief. She’d never loved a man more.

  It was going to be okay.

  She smiled and waved to Mandy and her boyfriend, who were swaying slowly to Adele’s rich voice.

  As more couples moved by, only then did it hit Amber—she couldn’t dance to her own song unless she did it alone. She was the only one on the sidelines.

  Just as she turned to go hide in the washroom, Scott appeared. He held out his hand, then pulled her into the throng, his body a comforting shield. She leaned her head against his shoulder. His movements were stiff for a second before his body curved around hers, bringing her closer.

  “I couldn’t let you dance to your song all alone. Not on Valentine’s Day.”