Tanya Michaels - Mistletoe Cinderella

“Close. We went up to his hotel room, made out for a while under false pretenses and then when room service interrupted with our dinner, I beat a hasty retreat before I ended up sleeping with him or telling him some other incredible whopper like I was once crowned Miss Georgia, right before I invented the Internet.”

“You made out with Dylan Echols?” Natalie’s voice was full of awe. “You’re my heroine.”

“ Nat! Haven’t you heard what I’ve been telling you? I was a disaster. I barely had control of what was coming out of my mouth. He kissed me, then called me Candy.”

“Okay, that part would have been a tad ooky. But the rest of it-”

“Natalie, promise you’ll never leave me alone with another hot guy.”

Her friend’s sigh came through loud and clear. “Honey, your life’s not going to be terribly interesting if you never spend any alone time with guys.”

“I don’t want interesting,” Chloe resolved. “I wasn’t meant for interesting. I tried it last night, and you see how that turned out!”

“You looked stunning and ended up kissing a guy half the women in town have drooled over. Things could have gone worse.”

“Not by much. I felt terrible, running out on him like that.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, reliving her graceless exit. “He probably thinks I’m off my meds.”

This time, the noise Natalie made was definitely a laugh. “If it’s any consolation, it’s Candy he thinks is nuts, not you.”

“And yet I don’t feel comforted by that. The only thing I find comforting about this whole mess is that he’s probably packing up to leave town by now.”

“No way he would miss Coach B.’s dinner tomorrow,” Natalie interjected. “I think he’s even giving a speech or something.”

“Right. I forgot about that.” Even someone as far removed from athletics as Chloe knew about Coach Todd Burton-he was a town institution. Her heart sank. “Wait, do you think Candy will be there?” The last thing Chloe needed was for Dylan to run into Candy.

“Nah. There’s no love lost between her and the coach. He bawled her out once when she dated two baseball players at once, pitting them against each other. She retaliated by whining to her friends that the coach gets too much credit when it’s the guys on the field winning the games.”

So Coach and Candy didn’t get along? Chloe was surprised then that Dylan would cheerfully seek out the former cheerleader. Or maybe, after all he’d been through professionally and personally, he didn’t recall petty squabbles from a decade ago.

She regrouped. “All right, so he’s in town for at least another day or so. But eventually- soon -he will leave. Given his track record for staying away from Mistletoe, I won’t ever have to worry about seeing him again.” More important, she wouldn’t have to dwell on her own asinine behavior.

“At least not until the twentieth reunion,” Natalie teased.

“I’m busy that weekend,” Chloe said flatly. She was done with high school reunions. She was also finished with wine. In vino veritas, my butt. After a minute passed, she stopped obsessing over her own evening long enough to ask, “Tell me you had a good time last night?” Natalie deserved to have fun after all the work she’d put into the event.

“I did, thanks.” Natalie sighed. “I’m just sorry you didn’t get more out of it.”

The memory of Dylan’s kiss tingled through her, and she pressed a hand to her lips. “It was…I have a lot of work to do. Call you later?”

“You busy tonight? I can bring over comfort food and a couple of chick flicks and get my shoes back.”

Chloe knew “comfort food” meant chicken-fried steak and made-from-scratch mashed potatoes from the Dixieland Diner, both topped with white pepper gravy. She was powerless to resist. Good thing I own that treadmill. “Sounds like just what the doctor ordered, thanks.”

After they disconnected, Chloe once again looked at her computer monitor, but lacked the mental energy to pretend she was getting anything done. Instead, she did seven and a half miles on the treadmill, then jumped in the shower. By the time she got out, she’d worked up an actual appetite. She padded to the fridge in a pair of denim shorts and a purple shirt printed with flowers that spelled out GET LEI’D IN MAUI. A gift from Aunt Jane, naturally. It was the least risqué of the bawdy T-shirts, acceptable Saturday wear for bumming around the house.

A quick scan of the shelves reminded her that, with everything else that had happened this week, she’d neglected grocery shopping. Maybe getting out of the house would help her get out of her head, too, putting last night’s absurdities behind her. She would certainly be more productive at the market than she had been at her computer.

She grabbed her car keys and was parking near Mistletoe’s only big grocery store fifteen minutes later. Making a mental list of items she needed, she headed up the sidewalk into the shop. Since Nat was coming over tonight, ice cream was a must-have, but she’d save that for the end of her trip, so it didn’t all melt in the cart. Instead, she rounded the corner toward the produce section and stopped cold at the sight of Dylan Echols examining fresh oranges.

Eek .

Well, who needed fruits and vegetables, anyway? She could live without them for another few days. Executing a stealthy about-face, she retreated to the soft-drink aisle, grabbing several things at random before continuing to speed away, wanting to put as much floor space as possible between her and Dylan. With little more in her cart than lunch for today and ice cream for tonight, she checked out, breathing a sigh of relief as she swiped her debit card. As soon as the kid at the register handed her the receipt, she’d be home fr-

“C.J.?”

Oh God. This was karmic punishment for her dishonesty last night.

Did she dare ignore him? If so, he might call out louder and create a scene. It was in her best interest to get their encounter over quietly-and quickly . Trapped, she turned with a weak wave as Dylan closed the distance between them. A smiling middle-aged woman stepped aside so that he could get in line behind Chloe.

If anything, he looked even better this morning, in a close-fitting T-shirt that did amazing things for his biceps. And he was making the most of the unshaven look that worked so well on some guys, lending a rugged touch.

Chloe was at a loss for what to say. “Hey.” Even that monosyllable strained her current capabilities.

For an instant, Dylan’s expression was inscrutable. Then he gave her a grin so wolfish she almost felt the top of her head to check for a red hood. “It is you. Must be my lucky day.”

Dylan wanted to pump his fist in the air and let out a whoop of victory. He couldn’t have asked for a better moment than this, his beautiful liar of last night caught off guard, her eyes wide and stricken. When he’d read her bio at the reunion, he’d been furious and imagined a straightforward confrontation, asking her point-blank about her identity and watching her squirm over the inevitable truth. But some imp took hold of him as he studied her. With all her hair skimmed back in a high ponytail and wearing practically no makeup, she looked as fresh faced and innocent as she probably had in her teens.

It incensed him anew that a woman who would knowingly make a fool out of him looked so damn much like a schoolgirl. Only her colorful shirt- get lei’d? -and shiny full lips hinted at possible naughtiness. He was annoyed to find himself wondering if she once again tasted like chocolate.

“I was sorry you had to leave in such a rush last night,” he said, trying to forget how hopeful he’d been about seeing her in the ballroom. And how terrible he’d felt for possibly scaring her off with overzealous ardor. Idiot. He managed not to grit his teeth. “I hope it wasn’t anything I did?”