When Mark finally grasped my ponytail and wound it around his fist, the seductress buried deep inside this consummate good girl gave a victorious shout and a devastating smirk. I bobbed my head in time with his urging, and soon enough, Mark’s movements stilled as he found his release, his panting breaths the only sound in the room.
When he’d recovered, Mark helped me to my feet and opened his mouth, the very obvious offer to reciprocate poised on the tip of his tongue. So I kissed him instead. What I’d done had been for me too.
When I finally pulled away, Mark’s hands were cupping my ass. Grinning, I said, “I’m going to get dressed and then head to work. Bonnie’s meeting me after school, and we’re finishing up the float.”
Judd’s Orchard was part of the annual Kirby Falls Holiday Jamboree, and the parade was happening this week. Normally my family drove a tractor or a truck and threw out candy, but this year, I’d designed a float. It was still rural-parade appropriate, on a trailer hauled behind a pickup truck. But it looked amazing, and I was so excited for the event.
“Do you and Bonnie need any help tonight?”
I got an intense amount of pleasure out of Mark’s loose, still-dazed expression. I smiled and shook my head. “We’re almost done. I’m taking her out to dinner as a thank-you.”
“You’ll come over after?” His sneaky hands had returned to my backside and he gave a squeeze.
“Yeah.” I laughed, attempting once again to extricate myself. “And I’ll take those mushrooms and Swiss cheese in my omelet if you’re still offering.”
Reluctant fingers trailed along my hips as I pulled away and he replied, “Anything you want.”
sixteen
CANDACE
The Kirby Falls Holiday Jamboree was kicking off tonight with the annual parade on Main Street. This had always been one of my favorite local events growing up.
Our town had other parades celebrating the Fourth of July as well as the Orchard Festival, but the holiday parade was the only one that took place at night, when everything was bright with twinkle lights and utterly magical.
I remembered the wonder and excitement of staying up late, drinking hot cocoa from vendors, and catching handfuls of candy as they were thrown from passing vehicles and floats. And then later, riding in the back of a pickup truck, representing Judd’s Orchard, my legs swinging off the tailgate while my siblings and I waved to friends and neighbors and visitors.
There was something enchanting about the celebration, and Christmas had always been my favorite holiday.
Being able to participate in the parade tonight was something I’d been looking forward to.
This weekend was probably the second biggest draw for tourists behind the Orchard Festival in September. The Thursday night parade started festivities. Holiday markets would happen Friday through Sunday on the same stretch of Main Street that saw farmers’ market vendors and Orchard Festival attendees.However, the wares would be less fresh produce and more along the lines of handmade gifts. Local artisans would occupy booths and encourage folks to take home hand-thrown pottery, Christmas ornaments, original artwork, and much, much more. Food trucks would be on site as well as vendors selling hot chocolate, kettle corn, candy apples, and peppermint bark.
December weather was unpredictable for an outdoor event in the mountains, but snow this early would be a rare occurrence. Most people would need to bundle up though, especially for the parade tonight.
Currently, we were lined up a mile away from the parade route, over on Elliott Avenue. Streets had been blocked off, and all participants had been directed to follow a twisting, turning map and jamboree volunteers to a very specific location to ensure the procession went as planned in exactly one hour and fourteen minutes.
Mark would be driving the Judd’s Orchard work truck at a crawl while pulling the trailer supporting our float. I was already in my costume and straightening and adjusting the decorations before the rest of my family arrived.
The theme was Santa’s Apple North Pole Wonderland. With Bonnie’s help, I’d constructed a giant sleigh down the center of the trailer. There was quite a bit of glitter involved as well as battery-powered twinkle lights. In the rear of the sled was a raised platform for my parents, who would be assuming the roles of Santa and Mrs. Claus. Twinkle-light reins led from the front of the sleigh to another platform that would hold my sister, Joan, our apple-loving Rudolph.
The sleigh was set in and among Christmas trees from our lot, all decorated with red and green apples and strands of popcorn—courtesy of Bonnie’s Kirby Falls Elementary School art students.
Brady and I planned to walk behind the trailer as apple-worker elves. Our costumes included apple-picking bags that were filled with treats, and our job was to pass out candy to kids, hand orchard coupons to adults, and just generally ham it up for the crowd.
The float behind ours was Miss Sally’s Tiny Dancer Academy. I’d gotten their playlist and routine schedule from my former ballet instructor, so I knew what to expect and didn’t need to play music from our own float. Brady and I had even worked out a short dance routine that I was pretty excited about.
I tapped one bell-topped pointy boot and slipped off my white gloves before reaching into my skirt pocket. With a quick flip to the front-facing camera, I grinned and took a selfie. My eyes were bright with shimmery silver makeup and looked more green than brown in the late-afternoon light. The curved tip of my elf hat dipped down low over my forehead. And you could just barely see the tops of my red-and-white suspenders peeking out from beneath my recently curled brown hair. I looked festive and happy. Santa’s little helper.
But hopefully, this text would put me on the naughty list.
I fired off the image along with a short message just as Mark climbed out of the driver’s seat. He’d been scooting us into position, something we’d had to adjust regularly during the parade setup to ensure everyone was where they were supposed to be. Eloise Carter, the head of festival planning in Kirby Falls, was probably somewhere with a clipboard, devil horns, and a whip—not the sexy kind.
From my position at the end of the twenty-four-foot-long trailer, I watched Mark straighten and pull his phone from his jeans pocket. As soon as his eyes locked on the screen, he smiled—the small, secret tilt of his lips that I loved so much. He hadn’t even had a chance to read the text yet, his thumb just now tapping to unlock it.
That immediate smile in reaction to my name popping up on his screen had me swooning. My heart was room temperature butter, left out on the counter to soften. Destined for something miraculous like a bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough or this man’s love.
Like a sneaky little elf, I observed the change that came over Mark as he read my text. Unaware of my spying, his eyes widened at what he saw on his phone and then he laughed. I was too far away to hear it, but I knew exactly what it sounded like. I could feel the phantom exhale against my neck, the rumble of amusement from his broad chest, like the best sort of memory.
