Candy Crush

by Amelia C. Adams

  She cleared her throat. “You wanted to kiss me?”

  “Oh, yeah. It was all I could do not to.”

  “So, why didn’t you?”

  He chuckled and looked out the window. “You know—all the typical guy reasons.”

  “No, I don’t know all the typical guy reasons. This is why you need to tell me what they are.”

  “Fear of rejection, mostly. For all I knew, you thought of me like a brother, and I’d be grossing you out. And I was probably shy.”

  “I can’t picture you being shy.”

  He pulled a face. “You can’t? Why not?”

  “Oh, come on.” She held up her hands. “How many times do we have to go over this? You were so cool in high school. You were the guy all the girls couldn’t stop talking about. I bet half the student body had written your name in their notebooks with little hearts and flowers and goobery stuff like that.”

  “Only half? Why only half?”

  “Because the other half were straight guys or lesbians.” She laughed, then gave his hand a squeeze. “We need to get going or we won’t get back to the ranch until late. Think of poor little Hershel, all alone, wondering where you are.”

  “Yeah, we can’t let Hershel get lonely.” He waited until she had pulled back onto the main road before asking, “What would you have done if I’d kissed you that day?”

  “Probably fainted in your arms and made you catch me before I hit the floor,” she replied.

  “In a good way or a bad way?”

  She laughed. “In a good way, you dork. And then I would have made you go steady with me.”

  “That might have been kind of nice.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I would have been a pretty clingy girlfriend, I bet. Jealous over your female friends, calling you at weird hours to make sure you were thinking of me—you’d be so over me.”

  “What if I was thinking about you at weird hours?” Oz asked.

  “You were?” She almost missed her turn and had to hit the brakes. “You were?” she asked again when she was safely in the right parking lot.

  “Yeah. And getting calls from you would have been nice.”

  She parked the car and turned to face him. “So, what do we do with this newfound knowledge? Do we go back in time and have you kiss me by the pool table and change our history?”

  “No,” he said. “But we can change our history now.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, slid his hand behind her head, and brought her close for a kiss. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, concentrating on enjoying the moment. When she’d kissed him the day before, she’d startled herself so much by doing it that she hadn’t thought to take notice of what his lips felt like or the fabric of his shirt beneath her fingers or what his aftershave smelled like. This time, she filed all that away in her memory box to pull out later and relive any time she wanted.

  “Once again, kissing like that at eighteen would be entirely inappropriate,” she said when they pulled apart.

  “But we’re not eighteen anymore,” he reminded her. “Kissing at twenty-three is entirely different.”

  “It is. It’s still serious, though.” She ran a hand through her hair, trying to think of what she wanted to say. “I don’t want to play around, Oz. I know we agreed to take it slowly, but what’s the end game? What are we shooting for? Shouldn’t we have a goal or something so we know if we’ve succeeded?”

  “My goal is marrying you,” he said simply.

  She couldn’t help it. Her mouth dropped open. “Marrying me?”

  He nodded. “I don’t want to play around either—that’s never been my thing. I want to put a gold band on a woman’s finger, put a matching one on mine, and know that we are committed to each other until we’re old and feeble and losing our dentures on the floor. I’ve never had little dreams—I’ve always shot for the stars, and that’s how I feel about relationships, too. Why try for a dating relationship when we can be shooting for something with real longevity?”

  She loved what he was saying—she loved every word of it. She just hadn’t allowed herself to hope or dream along those lines because things like that just didn’t happen to girls like her. “I’m . . . I’m honored that you’d think about me that way,” she said at last, knowing it sounded kind of dorky, but not sure how to phrase what she was feeling. “That shows a lot of respect and . . . and like you really care about me.”

  “Alicia, I’ve always cared about you, and I always will. Even if this blows up in our faces and we can’t pull it back together, you’ll hold a special place in my heart. Can you trust that?”

  His eyes were absolutely sincere, and she nodded. “Yes. I can.”

  “Good. Because I mean it.” He stroked a finger down the side of her cheek. “So, what do you say? Taking this slowly, but with marriage as the end goal?”

  She nodded while more goose bumps rose on her arms. “Yeah, I can do that.”

  He grinned. “I’m very glad to hear that. Now, let’s go buy some cards and get home before my poor little rabbit thinks he’s been abandoned forever.”

  Chapter Seven

  Alicia dropped Oz at the floral shop, then took her purchases over to the general store. He carried his bags inside and showed them to Whitney, and she was duly impressed.

  “So, how much of this did you pick out, and how much did Alicia help you with?” she asked.

  “Actually, I picked everything,” he said. “I decided I wasn’t such a shopping loser after all.”

  She reached out and pretended to pinch his cheek. “You’re such a good boy. I love these bears—they’ll be darling with the vintage theme we’ve got going on with the TV show.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. They reminded me of the wedding bouquets you were looking at the other day.”

  “Yes! I could do an old-fashioned Valentine arrangement with the Queen Anne’s lace and one of these bears. Oz, I could kiss you.” She paused and looked at him. “Or maybe I’ll leave that up to Alicia.”

  He couldn’t help it. He ducked his head, feeling a little embarrassed.

  “I see. So, there has been some smooching going on.” Whitney leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “I think you need to spill the beans.”

  “There really aren’t any beans to spill.” He began sorting the Valentine’s cards into the holder, making sure the right envelopes were with the right cards. “We’re taking it slow.”

  “You’re taking it slow, but you’ve kissed her.”

  “Yes, I’ve kissed her. Or rather, she kissed me the first time, and I kissed her the second. It’s anyone’s guess as to who goes next.”

  Whitney laughed. “That’s kind of a weird little contest, but I’m happy for you, Oz. She’s a great girl, and if you’ve managed to work out some of your past kinks, I’m all for it.”

  “I think we have, but just in case, that’s why we’re taking it slow. I don’t think either of us wants to get hurt again. Some things are too important to trifle with.”

  “I agree.”

  They both turned when the door to the floral shop opened and Mike Prescott, Whitney’s boyfriend, walked in. “Hey, Oz,” he said, but he made a beeline for Whitney and pulled her in for a kiss. “How’s your day been?” he asked when he released her.

  “Good. Well, a little frustrating, but Oz saved the day. I’ll tell you about it over dinner.” Whitney turned to Oz. “We’ll have a few extra deliveries in the morning because you weren’t here this afternoon. Is that okay?”

  “Not a problem. Oh, and here’s your change.” Oz fished in his pocket and pulled out the few remaining bills and the receipts.

  “Thanks again. You did great.” Whitney turned to Mike. “Just let me sweep up, and then I’m all yours.”

  Mike grinned. “Can’t wait. Hey, Oz? Can I walk you out?”

  “Uh, sure.” Oz paused and waited for Mike to catch up with him. When they were outside, Mike glanced around, then cleared his throat.

  “So, I guess it’s no secret
how I feel about Whitney,” he began.

  Oz laughed. “Nope, no secret.”

  “Well, I’ve decided I want to propose, but I want to do something really special, and I wondered if you’d help me.”

  Oz held up both hands. “You’re not going to ask me to find you five hundred poinsettias, are you?”

  Mike chuckled. “No, I learned my lesson at Christmas. I just hoped that you’d be willing to make a delivery if I provided that package.”

  “Of course. When?”

  “Next week, probably Tuesday. I was going to do it on Valentine’s Day, but I thought, everyone proposes on Valentine’s Day, and if she’s expecting it then, she’ll be totally caught off guard if I do it early.”

  “Good idea. Just let me know what and when.”

  “Thanks, Oz. I appreciate it.”

  Oz glanced across the street and saw that the closed sign had been put up on the general store, but he could still make out Heidi and Alicia moving around inside, most likely putting away the merchandise they’d bought. He’d head home and then see if Alicia wanted to grab some dinner. It was nice to think that Hershel was there waiting for him.

  ***

  Oz and his Jewish rabbit were sitting on the couch together watching the news when Oz’s phone buzzed with a text. Why don’t I bring over some burgers and fries?

  He grinned. You’re speaking my love language.

  But it’s not pizza.

  I also appreciate burgers. Basically, food. I appreciate food.

  Okay. I’ll be there soon.

  He settled back in the couch and absentmindedly played with Hershel’s ears until a knock sounded at the door. It seemed too soon to be Alicia, but maybe she’d already picked up the burgers before she texted him. Or the drive-through was extra fast.

  He opened the door without checking the peephole and was instantly sorry that he hadn’t.

  “Cam,” he said, taking a stumbling step backward.

  “Hey, little brother.” Cam walked in and clapped Oz on the shoulder, dropping a duffel bag on the floor with the other hand. “Long time no see, right? How’s it going? Hey, this is a great place.”

  “How did you know where I live?” Oz asked as soon as he could string two words together. What on earth was Cam doing in Riston, Idaho? “I thought you were in Alaska.”

  “I was, but you can really only live on a fishing boat for so long before you start to lose your mind. I need to walk on solid ground for a while and eat red meat instead of fish. Hey, why is there a rabbit on your couch?”

  “He’s my pet. His name is Hershel.”

  “Hershel?” Cam laughed. “That’s the weirdest name for a rabbit I’ve ever heard.”

  “He sort of came with it.” Oz flopped back down on the couch and stared at his brother. “You didn’t answer my question. How’d you know where I was?”

  “Is it a secret or something?” Cam sat on the other end of the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. “Is no one supposed to know where the mighty Oz Burton lives?”

  “I do keep it pretty quiet, yeah,” Oz replied. Especially from his brother.

  “I have my ways. You can’t hide from family, you know.” Cam looked around. “You’re doing pretty well for yourself here. What’s the occupation today? Bus driver? Fortune teller?”

  “I deliver flowers for a floral shop.”

  Cam snorted. “No way. Are you serious? Dang, Oz, I thought you’d taken some crazy jobs in your life, but that’s pretty bizarre even for you.”

  “I enjoy it. I get to see smiles on people’s faces every day.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot—you’re the philanthropist of the family.” He shook his head. “So much talent got wasted on you.”

  Oz pressed his lips together for a minute before responding. “What do you want, Cam?”

  “And always so direct, too.” Cam nodded. “It’s nice that you’re so predictable. I need a place to stay for a little while, maybe some cash while I get back on my feet.”

  Oz raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t leave that boat because you wanted to—you were fired, weren’t you?”

  “Maybe. I would have left anyway, though—it wasn’t the right fit for me.”

  Oz stood up and paced over to the window. “Dang it, Cam, nothing ever is the right fit for you. Nothing’s good enough, pays enough, makes you feel important enough. You’ve had how many jobs? And quit every one of them because they didn’t live up to your lofty expectations. That’s not how life is.”

  “And you’re living life how it really is? A millionaire at eighteen, and now you deliver flowers so you can make people smile?” Cam snorted. “I’m quite positive, my dear brother, that if I’d been as lucky as you are, I could afford to be all rainbow unicorns and sunshine, but that hasn’t been my story.”

  “Yeah, things have gone well for me, but not without a lot of work,” Oz retorted. “You have no idea how long and hard I worked on that invention. And yes, it was pretty lucky—no, I’m going to call it a blessing. It’s a blessing that I was able to sell it, but it was a matter of being in the right place at the right time. No one just showed up on the doorstep and handed me a check for sitting on the couch eating Froot Loops in my pajamas.”

  “Whatever. You can do no wrong, and you know it.” Cam stood up and faced him. “Can I please have a place to stay for a little while? I know my coming here isn’t what you wanted, but I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “What about Mom and Dad?”

  Cam looked away. “They’re even less crazy about me right now than you are. Seems they’re trying a tough-love approach.”

  “And what makes you think I won’t do the same thing?”

  Cam shook his head. “Because you’re the millionaire who delivers flowers to people to make them smile.”

  Oz stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked out the window. It was full dark now and he couldn’t see the mountains. He doubted they would have been comforting this time, though. There were some things that even the mountains couldn’t fix. “I’ll get you a hotel room for two weeks. At the end of that two weeks, you need to move on, with a job—or at least the prospects of a job—but not here in Riston. Somewhere else. A fresh start.”

  “And what about some cash?”

  “Yes, I’ll give you some money for food and some interview clothes, but that’s it. If you waste it, that’s on you—I’m not giving you more.”

  Cam chuckled. “And what makes you think I’m going to waste it? You don’t think I’ve learned any responsibility in my time away?”

  Oz whirled on him. “If you’d learned any responsibility, you wouldn’t be here begging for money, would you? You’d have a job somewhere—maybe not the most prestigious job, but you’d be putting in an honest day. You’d be focused on making something respectable out of your life. No, I don’t trust you, Cam, and that’s with good reason. I can’t trust someone who has broken my trust over and over again and doesn’t even care.”

  Cam pressed his lips together. After rocking back and forth on his heels a few times, he nodded. “Fair enough. If you’ll take care of the hotel, I’ll be on my way.”

  Oz pulled his phone from his pocket. “The faster, the better.”

  Chapter Eight

  Alicia’s phone chimed with a text just as she reached Oz’s door. She knocked, then juggled the burger sacks in one hand while she fished out her phone with the other. Something’s come up. Call you tomorrow. Oh. Well, it was kind of too late—she’d just knocked. She could give him his burger and leave—she hoped that whatever it was, it wasn’t too serious.

  Oz opened the door while she was debating what to do. “Hey,” he said. “Um . . .”

  She saw movement over his shoulder and went up on her tiptoes to see who was there. Her heart all but froze, and she had to close her eyes for a second to maintain control. “Cam is here?” she hissed.

  “Yeah. He just showed up a few minutes ago.” Oz ran a hand through his hair. “I’m so
rry. I should have texted sooner. I know you don’t want to see him. I don’t either, actually, but here he is.”

  “What are you whispering about over here, little brother?” Cam walked up behind Oz and smirked. “Well, hello, Alicia. This is quite a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you either, Cam. And I don’t particularly want to see you now, so I’ll be going.” She handed Oz his food. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Turning on her heel, she was ready to walk away, but she heard Cam say, “Be sure to tell Angie hi for me.”

  That was just . . . No. She spun back around, pushed her way past Oz into the apartment, and jabbed her finger into Cam’s chest. “You have no right to even say her name.”

  He chuckled. “Feathers still a little ruffled, I see.”

  She pulled in a deep breath. “You know what, Cam? I understand that people break up and go their separate ways. Happens all the time. But you’re a jerk, and you choose to be a jerk, and that’s completely different. It’s like you feed off how much offense you can cause. Well, here.” She shoved the other bag of food into his hands. “Feed off this instead. I’m not hungry anymore.” She spun around again and left, her boots echoing in the hallway leading away from Oz’s apartment.

  When she got back out to her car, she leaned against the door for a few minutes, trying to collect herself. Cam wasn’t even like a real person—he was more like a caricature of every slimy boyfriend she’d ever seen in a movie or on TV. Like he’d studied up on it.

  She made sure her hands were steady before driving home—the last thing she needed was to get into a car accident because she’d let Cam rattle her. She felt bad for Oz—he’d tried to warn her, but she’d showed up anyway. This couldn’t be easy for him.

  The muscles in her neck were tightening, threatening to give her a headache, so she hopped in the shower and turned the water on full blast, letting it pound out the tension. Then she put on a pair of soft sweats and took some ibuprofen.