With a two-fingered salute, the teenager said, “Later,” and hoofed it back to his truck.
“The beefcake has interesting taste in teddy bear ensembles, but he gets mad points for the chocolate.” Lacey lifted the plastic-wrapped box to her nose like she could smell the contents, then admired the bouquet. “And those flowers are freaking gorgeous. What’s the card say?”
Angelle shrugged, biting her lip as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I don’t know. I’m kind of scared to read it,” she admitted. Hellcats can be nervous sometimes, can’t they?
“Well, I’m not.” Lacey set the bear and the chocolates on the entryway table. “Let me at it.”
Reaching into the middle of the large bouquet, her cousin snatched the envelope. It was thicker, bulkier than normal. Lacey lifted an eyebrow and cracked the seal, turning the card over to release a bottle cap in her palm. Handing it to Angie she said, “This guy is either completely nuts, or you’re perfect for each other.”
Angelle didn’t reply. She was too busy being flabbergasted. It was the second bottle cap from the night they babysat. She’d kept hers, but had misplaced the other one before they left. Or at least that’s what she’d thought. Now she knew he’d taken it. Closing her hand around the surprising memento, Angelle’s broken heart pulsed.
Lacey cleared her throat. “Angel,” she read, “I know I promised to give you space. Sorry if this is breaking the rules. In case you’re wondering, these items aren’t random. They’re just a small sample of things that make me think of you. Sunflowers, cherries, even pansy teddy bears. You can keep this one, but the bottle cap is mine. It’s on loan, a memory from a very special night, and I’ll need it back.”
Her cousin looked up and said, “Yep, perfect for each other.”
“Keep reading!” Angelle wiped at the continued tears, needing to hear more.
With a smile, Lacey read, “Happy Birthday, angel. I’m counting the hours until we talk. Yours, Cane.” So his sister had spilled the beans after all. As Angelle pondered how long he’d known, her cousin slid the card back into the envelope and said, “If you don’t want him, let me know. I’ll gladly mend his broken heart.”
Angelle knew she was teasing, but it really wasn’t a question of wanting. She knew, despite everything, she still wanted Cane more than she’d wanted anything in her life. What she had to figure out, however, was if that was enough. And if she could ever trust him again.
Chapter Seventeen
It would figure that on the day Cane volunteered to wear a borrowed polyester Santa suit and a scratchy as hell fake beard the weather would be unseasonably warm. Like over eighty degrees warm. As if mentally sweating his conversation with Angelle weren’t enough, now he was physically sweating, too. It was a good thing he was a sucker for kids. And hot redheads.
Chucking a handful of candy canes at the two boys perched on their fathers’ shoulders, Cane hummed along to “Walking in a Winter Wonderland.” It was the second time he’d heard the tune that morning. The truck pulling his pirogue sleigh (along with the eight stuffed alligators, obviously) was blaring a playlist of Christmas songs on repeat. He was at the very end of the procession with only a fire truck behind him, its sole purpose being to signal with a loud, occasional beep beep that they’d reached the end of the parade. Well, its purpose was that, and to feed his mounting tension headache.
As he tossed another handful into the crowd, this time plastic beads with Christmas trees, he shouted, “Ho-ho-ho.” The irony that this whole journey began with him saying the same words in a similar get-up at the Bachelor Auction was not lost on him. He still felt ridiculous, but this time he didn’t mind so much. He was doing it for the woman he loved.
The procession stalled, and Cane sat back in his Christmas tree throne. He’d only seen Angelle once, a brief glimpse when they were all lining up. But it had been enough to stop his heart. She was so damn beautiful it made his chest hurt. Since she’d given up her Cracklin Queen title, she didn’t join the other women in the back of a convertible, smiling and waving like Miss America. This year she’d traded the smooth ride for water bottle duty with one of the dance teams. He’d watched from his last place position as she took her spot with the young girls, willing her to look at him. It wasn’t as if he’d been hard to miss. But she hadn’t. And that had made his anxiety about their talk skyrocket.
With a slight jerk, his float crept forward.
Smiling at the families gathered on Main Street, Cane wondered what Angelle had thought about his gifts. Other than his sisters and Emma, he’d never bought a woman gifts—and even for them, he tended to go with gift cards. But if he’d learned anything from the multitude of women in his life, it was that you can never go wrong with flowers and chocolate. At least that’s what he’d thought, but even that had taken forever. He’d argued with three different florists. Ran to that damn bear shop in the packed mall before searching shelves at Target for chocolates. And he’d debated forever about the bottle cap.
Did she get the significance? Should he have written Love, Cane on the card?
Chick thoughts. That’s what his mental process had been reduced to. But he figured as long as the result involved Angelle being in his arms, he could deal with being whipped.
Another cycle or two through the eclectic Christmas mix, his role as Papa Noel was over. Back at the civic center, away from impressionable children’s eyes, Cane yanked off the scratchy beard. After shucking the pillows used for jelly-belly stuffing, and removing the Santa hat and hair, he raked a hand through his own. Reaching back, he stripped off his soaked T-shirt and used it as a towel before throwing the coat back on.
Marching bands continued to play for fun as he made his way through a maze of horses, buggies, and floats made to look like old homes on the bayou, combing the area for Angelle. As hurt and angry as she was, he knew she’d stick around. More than likely with a Brady-sized shadow. That man was campaigning hard for a second chance. Too damn bad. Cane would wear that damn Santa suit for the rest of his life before he’d let that happen.
When the toy train float drove off, he finally found her. She was standing near the gazebo, and as expected, Brady was by her side.
“There you are.” He couldn’t help the smug grin that formed, seeing her step away from her ex as she turned to face Cane. That grin grew as her gaze slid appreciatively over his opened coat and bare chest. Good to see she wasn’t immune. “Enjoy the parade?”
Angelle nodded, shoving a thick section of auburn hair behind her ear. “And you?”
“I did.” He darted an annoyed glance at Brady, then stepped forward and took her hand. She visibly tensed but she didn’t yank it back, and Cane counted that a victory. “Ready to talk?”
“Yeah.” Rocking back on her heels, she turned to Brady and said, “See you at the Fais Do Do?”
A muscle in the man’s jaw ticked, but he nodded. “I’ll be there. But if you want me to, I can stick around until you’re done. In case you need me.”
Hell if that didn’t set off a firestorm in Cane’s blood. The only man Angelle needed was him. Cane was proving that today—to her, to her family, to the whole damn town. And if he had to go through the good doctor to do that, so be it. But before he could go off on the man, Angelle’s thumb snaked out of Cane’s grasp to squeeze his. The pulse brought his attention back to her. Back where it belonged.
“Go home, Brady,” she said, deep green eyes staring into his. “I’m good here.”
Those three words were like a balm. Cane hoped they were also a clue to how the conversation would go, what she was thinking. He held tight to her hand, waiting as Brady finally strolled away. Then tugging her toward the bench seat, he asked, “Did you get my gifts?”
Angelle sat beside him, a small smile curving her mouth. “Yes, I did. And I loved them.” Relief washed over him, but it was unfortunately short-lived. “But I don’t understand them.”
Cane watched as Angelle’s shoulders dropped and her face pin
ched. Her chin trembled as she reached inside her pocket with her free hand and pulled out two bottle caps—the one he’d given her, plus her own. He’d assumed she had kept hers, as she said she would. But seeing them side by side in her perfect, shaking palm stole his breath.
He wasn’t letting her leave the gazebo without putting it all on the line. Everything. He was in, 100 percent.
“Help me understand,” she said, her voice wobbly and full of the hurt he’d caused. “Why do all of this, the presents, the sticking around, the wanting to talk, if you don’t care? And if you do, then why did you leave? Because that crushed—” Her whiskey voice broke, sending a fresh batch of self-loathing to his gut. She sucked in her lips, swallowed, and tried again. “It crushed me to wake up alone and realize I was just another conquest. Another notch on your belt. And seeing you yesterday, seeing you now, getting your gifts…it crushes me all over again. I’m never gonna get over it—over you—if you keep coming around. Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” Her mouth tumbled open, eyes shocked at his admission, and he explained. “I don’t want to cause you any additional pain. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you getting over me. I want you under me,” he said, unable to help himself, “and I want you next to me. I want you holding my hand in a gazebo and sitting next to me on the couch. I want you.”
Angelle looked away, her eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head. “I’m so confused.”
She was adorable, even in the middle of a heartbreak. If she hadn’t completely owned his heart before this moment, she did now. Gently steering her chin back so she faced him, Cane dared to press a kiss against her forehead before saying, “Then let me try to explain.”
He took a deep breath and waited for her nod to continue. “I push people away. It’s what I do. I keep them at a safe distance because that way I know I can’t hurt them. I don’t let people in or let them see what a nerd I am. Angel, I love crossword puzzles. And Sudoku. I watch far too much Discovery channel and I wear glasses when I read, which I also do a lot.”
The squiggle on Angelle’s forehead vanished as her lips tipped up in a smile. The tears had stopped, too, and Cane counted that his second victory.
“I know I hurt you by leaving,” he told her. “You have to know I’ve regretted it every second since. Angelle, you make me feel things I never have before. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I fell back on my normal response.” Cane looked away, unable to meet her eyes when he admitted, “I pushed you away.”
Angelle had the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever known. Where he pushed, she pulled. Could a person as good and loving as she was understand his actions?
“And how do I make you feel?”
At her soft question, he looked back. Angelle blushed, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink as she fidgeted with the bottle caps in her hand. Cane closed his hand around hers, waiting until she lifted her eyes to say, “You broke through every wall I put up. I can’t push you away because you’re already in. Not just in my heart, angel. You’re in my soul.”
And then, he waited.
He didn’t breathe, didn’t think, didn’t look away. Cane watched Angelle as she processed his words, internalized them. And when her eyes glimmered, he watched as she began to believe them. Or at least he hoped that was what the fresh tears meant.
“This week has been the best of my life, but it was built around a lie. Our relationship, while real in so many ways, was a hoax. I want more. I want a real chance. A real relationship with you.” He brushed away a tear that fell down her cheek, pausing to gather his nerve to ask the question burning a hole in his chest. “Have I completely blown my shot?”
She closed her eyes, effectively shutting him out from what she was thinking. That was his first warning sign. But it wasn’t until she slowly drew her hands away from his and brought them both to her head that the real panic set in. “Angel?”
“I’m sorry.” The two words he did not want to hear. Opening her eyes, she shifted on the bench, turning her body to face him. “My head is all over the place right now. I want to say yes. I want to jump in and say, let’s do this. But another part of me says run for the hills. You hurt me badly,” she told him, not sugarcoating it. “I heard everything you said. It was beautiful, and I want to trust that you believe it, that you meant it. But this is just coming at me so fast.”
Cane swallowed hard, rooted to his spot. Nothing existed in that moment but him and Angelle. Her conflicted eyes riveted him, even as they tore at his heart.
Licking her lips, she ran a frazzled hand through her hair. “The old me would jump. That’s what you want, and I want to make you happy. I want to believe that you can make me happy. But I’ve always put other people’s needs before my own. Now, I’m finally standing on my own two feet, and Cane, you helped that happen. I don’t want to backpedal.” Angelle’s lips pursed when his body stiffened, and she took his hands in hers. “I’m not explaining myself well. I’m not saying no.”
Cane’s heart began beating again.
“I’m saying…can I have some time? To just think this through? When I give you my answer, I want us both to know that I’m not acting blindly or doing what I think you want me to do, but doing what I want to do. Can I have that?”
How could he say no? He couldn’t. But damn, did he want to.
Cane glanced at his watch. “The Fais Do Do begins at six. That’s four hours. Is that enough time?”
Angelle’s lips pressed together in a half-grimace, half-smile and she said, “Yeah. That should be good.”
Nodding, he pushed to his feet. “Then I guess I’ll leave you to it.” Cane tugged his keys from the pocket of his Santa pants, trying to hold on to some semblance of optimism. The battle wasn’t over. He hadn’t lost. He had to trust the glimmer of love he still saw in her eyes, which had grown bigger the more they spoke.
And if he did that, then it meant Cane had a stop to make before he returned to the hotel.
“You need a ride home?” he asked, for more than just the obvious reason.
She shook her head, releasing a heavy breath. “No, I drove Mama’s car here. Besides, I think I’m gonna cut a block.” When he raised his eyebrows, her conflicted smile widened. “Drive around for a while. It helps me think.”
Cane nodded again, turning to make the trek back to his truck. At the entrance to the gazebo, he knocked his fist against the wood and looked over his shoulder. “Angel?” She lifted her head and he said, “You should know that I don’t plan to give up easily.”
…
Where is he?
Angelle glanced at her watch for the bazillionth time since arriving at the civic center. Two minutes had passed since she’d last looked. Two minutes in which Cane still hadn’t shown up. It was now six thirty. Thirty minutes after the Fais Do Do started, and twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds after she’d begun her relentless obsession of staring at the entrance. Seriously, where was he?
The jostling table snapped her focus away from the door, and her gaze collided with Brady’s.
“A smart man knows when he’s been beaten,” he announced, his lips pressed together in a defeated frown. Angelle winced, and he nudged her elbow, his mouth morphing into a self-deprecating grin. “It’s for the best. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try. You’re an amazing woman, Angie, and I’m sorry if I didn’t let you know that enough.”
“We just had bad timing. Maybe if we’d met now, after you’d finished school and were living here full time…” Angelle’s voice trailed off. He crooked an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish, and she propped her chin on her hand. “You know what? I don’t know if that’s true. See, Brady, I think the girl you loved, the type of girl you need, is the one I tried to be. That’s not anything you did,” she quickly added, watching as a shadow fell over his face. “I did it to myself. You never got to know the real me, because I never let her out. Heck, I didn’t even know her.”
As Brady’s eyes grew more
confused, Angelle’s widened in realization. Huh. She and Cane were a lot more alike than she’d ever realized. He hid his true self away, not wanting anyone to get close because he was afraid of hurting people. She hid her true self away, not wanting anyone to get close because she was afraid of disappointing people. Of doing or saying the wrong thing, of making a mistake. But all she’d done was hurt herself. Just like Cane, who kept himself from experiencing true love and real relationships.
They were both so screwed up. And they were perfect for each other.
She’d already decided that, about five minutes into her drive that afternoon. She was still glad she’d asked for the time, though. It was a good first step. Something she’d never tried before. And thanks to that drive, Angie knew, with every fiber of her being, that she wanted that real chance with Cane.
She glanced at the entrance. Still no Cane.
“Well, I loved the Angie I knew,” Brady said, leaning forward on his elbows. “And I look forward to getting to know this new you, too. As friends, obviously,” he added, raising his palms off the table.
The band began a toe-tapping beat, and Angelle had energy to burn. “You were my best friend for a quarter of my life. I’d like to think you’ll stay that way.” She smiled, and he returned it. “And your first act of friendship with the new and improved me is asking me to dance. Cane’s not here yet and I’m going stir-crazy. I need a distraction.”
Pushing back his chair, he stood and held out his hand. “Now, that I can do.”
Brady kept his word, distracting Angelle through two fast-tempo songs. Twirling around, getting lost in the rhythm of the music, it felt like home. She’d always been herself on the dance floor. Stomping her foot, Angie sang along with the chorus, deciding she’d find a local chapter of the Cajun French Music Association when she returned to Magnolia Springs. Brady twirled her a final time, and then as the song ended, they broke apart to clap with the crowd.
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