“Oh boy,” said Hank. He rubbed his mouth. “And so now you’re gonna write her love notes?”
“Every hour on the hour on Monday,” Jack declared. “With more flowers.”
Hank shook his head. “You’re gonna scare her. Does she know she has two admirers?” When Caleb shrugged, Hank rolled his eyes. “She’s gonna think it’s all just one really crazy, obsessed guy. Sending her love notes is just gonna scare the shit out of her.”
Caleb threw the pen down. He was glad to nix the idea of the love notes—what the hell could he possibly say?—but then that meant he had no ideas. “What do I do, then? If you’re the expert?”
“How about you do what you were supposed to do a few days ago?” Hank retorted. “Suck it up and ask her out. Before this other guy gets the balls and beats you to it.”
He had a point, Caleb had to concede. He did need to ask her out. Even now, after all the things he’d done to help her and the time he’d spent with her, he wasn’t sure that she saw him as more than a buddy. He thought of her smile and the way she doted on the blind dog. He thought of the determined way she shopped, pinching every penny. He thought of her chuckle when she was amused by something.
He thought of her tits in that damned Mrs. Claus outfit.
He thought of the way she’d paused and stared at his chest in surprise, as if she was suddenly realizing that Caleb was a red-blooded man standing in front of her.
It was that look of surprise that made up his mind. For better or for worse, he had to ask her out, because she’d never realize he was doing all these things because he was in love with her.
And he had to do it before someone else swooped in and took credit for some of the gifts he’d given her.
Tomorrow, then, at the Christmas Carnival. He’d ask Mrs. Claus out on a date.
Somehow.
* * *
* * *
Amy’s Mrs. Claus boots hurt her feet five minutes after she put them on. It was like the world was reminding her not to get too comfortable tonight. Which was a real shame, because otherwise, the Christmas Carnival looked as if it was going to be a success.
It was early yet, of course. Amy and all the teachers had shown up early to help decorate the school. She’d texted Caleb and told him she didn’t need a ride today, that one of the teachers was swinging by to pick her up, but that he would need to be at the school at six sharp. It was still a few minutes before six, but Amy loved how things were shaping up.
The interior of the school glittered with clouds of fake snow, puffs of cotton sprinkled with fake crystals. Paper “sidewalks” made of cutout gumdrop shapes lined the halls, leading up to the different carnival booths. Directly across from “the North Pole” was a dunking booth that the principal would sit in, dressed as the Grinch. Somewhere in the school there was a Cake Walk, and piles of presents were being watched over by volunteers. Amy’s gifts were all ready and waiting for her students, but some of the wrapped boxes were raffle prizes. The gym smelled like hot cocoa and peppermint, and Amy loved it.
She wasn’t the only one. Parents were arriving early with excited children, and so were other townspeople. She’d run into Hannah, who owned a small hotel downtown, and her husband. She’d met a few other ranchers with small children, and the mayor, Sage, had come through with her babies and husband, all of them in matching ugly sweaters.
This was nothing like home, Amy thought with happiness. Back when she lived in the big city, no one cared about community events. Here, everyone turned out to support everyone else, and it was lovely.
Everyone, that is, except for Santa Claus.
Amy checked her watch. He still had five minutes, but they had a line forming, waiting to get their chance with Santa. She chewed on her lip, nervous.
“Where is he?” A hand touched her shoulder.
Amy whirled around, sighing with relief when she saw her friend Becca. The hairdresser was adorable in a fur-lined coat of red and white, her dark hair pulled into a braided coronet. At her side was her stepdaughter, Libby, dressed in a matching outfit.