Chapter 13

“Well…” She took it and gave him a firm shake. “For Michelle’s sake.”

“Good.”

“But stay away from me.”

He smiled into her eyes and watched her pupils darken and dilate. He hadn’t let go of her hand yet, and she hadn’t pulled hers away. He had the distinct impression that she wanted him to stay away from her exactly as much as he did.

________

Candace poured Comet onto a green scouring pad and went at the white porcelain sink as if she were training for the Olympic scrubbing team. Her life had been peaceful and calm for a long time. Moving to Drakoria had been a huge upheaval, but the subsequent six years, once she settled in, had been rewarding and enriching. She’d met Sam when his sink backed up and she surprised him by being the one who showed up to fix it. Their friendship had proceeded slowly and naturally into romance. She’d made other friends in the building, at her gym and book group, and enjoyed an active social life. Drakoria had provided plenty of culture. Life had been good.

Even her breakup with Sam, though difficult for him and guilt-laden for her, hadn’t put her through too much devastation, which validated her decision not to marry him. Mostly a matter of breaking habits and coping with sadness and regret. Though if Candace had still been involved with him, she might not have found it as practical to plan a new life in Langford.

She rinsed the sink, stared critically and shook in more Comet. Now her life was in transition again, so it was not too surprising that she was a little —okay, maybe a lot—stressed. The nagging restlessness in her relationship that came to a head when Sam proposed, and the same in her job during this past year after they broke up had been unsettling. Gran’s fall had been even more unsettling, especially having to guess at the details—Gran claimed minor injuries to one leg, but she’d say that if she shattered every bone— then all the exhausting planning and packing for the move, then Michelle’s meltdown and now… She scrubbed harder.

Nolan.

He was the most infuriating, funny, charming, infuriating, sex-y, sex-ual, sex-ist infuriating man she’d ever met.

Did she mention infuriating?

More Comet, more scrubbing. There were gray streaks on the bottom of the sink where pans had rubbed, and stains, probably coffee or tea, maybe something tomato-ey. All of them were doomed.

If Candace’s apartment showed dirt or clutter, it was a guarantee that she was relaxed and happy. When you-know-what hit the fan, she cleaned. Even when she was little, if Mom hadn’t come home when she said she would, if she’d had one of her bad days, one of her wild days, brought yet another man home, Candace would tidy the house, arrange her toys, make her bed and Michelle’s, drag out the vacuum cleaner and the full array of cleaning products seldom touched by their mother, and she’d subjugate her pain and fear to creating cleanliness and order.

Which was why this sink would blind users by the time she was done. Because second only to Nolan’s unforgivable behavior yesterday morning had been hers. She didn’t know what had disabled her common sense, but while her brain had been extremely clear about staying away from him for Michelle’s sake, and for the sake of female pride everywhere, her body had entirely other thoughts. Candace had acted like the worst type of no-means-yes woman, something she’d never done in her life, not even in high school when hormones and inexperience could easily cause that conflict to tip the wrong way.

Not Candace. She’d said no with ruthless sincerity to junior-year boyfriend Jake and senior-year boyfriend Ted no matter how crazily her lust was acting up. In college she’d said yes, but only to Alan, and only after an appropriate amount of dating time. After college, she and Sam had proceeded with degrees of intimacy appropriate to their deepening relationship.

Yesterday morning? With that man who lied and teased and came on to her completely inappropriately? She’d acted like a seventeen-year-old virgin, still into movie-star fantasies of men, who is faced with her first real one. Attracted, repelled, wanting, knowing she couldn’t have. Or shouldn’t.

On edge like she’d never been before, excited, shooting sparks, so out of her mind that she fell, splat, victim to his magnetism and hadn’t cared. Had.

Not. Cared! Since when had she not cared about moral issues? Since never.

Since she had a mother who didn’t. And now a sister who didn’t. Someone in their little family had to, and that had always been Candace.

At least she’d stopped at kissing Nolan, though my God, the man could redefine kissing. Candace chose a new spot on the sink, ignoring the light sweat spreading on her body that didn’t have enough to do with the exertion of cleaning and too much to do with the heated memories.

Were he and Michelle an item or not? Not that it mattered. Candace was staying away from Nolan no matter what. Or at least she was going to make sure she tried a hell of a lot harder than she had yesterday. No means no means no! She’d practice if she had to.

But if they weren’t dating, then Michelle lied saying they were a couple, which would hurt. She and Candace saw eye to eye on very little, but Candace had always trusted her to be honest. For so many years, they had only each other.

Candace would have to ask. Michelle hadn’t come home after work yesterday, which she often didn’t, and Candace was in bed by the time she made it back, so Candace hadn’t been able to—or been willing to, given that the day had been confusing, to say the least—confront her sister. The second Michelle came downstairs this morning, assuming Nolan wasn’t around, Candace was going to pounce and not let go until she got the truth from somebody around here.

She went to work on the metal drain stopper, determined to make it sparkle again. Today she’d try to sort this all out so she could make definite plans to move on. She should make sure to call Gran and Grandad later to check on Gran and keep them up-to-date.

“Good morning.” Michelle bounced in, wide-spaced hazel eyes bleary with sleep, her blond hair a ratty mess around her head, wearing only a wrinkled pink Bratz T-shirt that barely covered the necessities. She looked absolutely adorable.

“Morning, Michelle. Sleep well?”

“Mmm.” Michelle started a huge yawn, then bit it off. “God, Candace, what are you doing?”