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Carl was willing to admit that his mood had deteriorated in the past week without Candy. He hoped that she missed him enough to come to her senses. In thinking back over their last conversation, he realized that he’d been vague about what he intended to offer her. He’d be a generous lover and it was only fair that she know that.
She’d had a week to realize the error of her ways. He refused to allow a woman to manipulate him and she’d best learn that right now. But on the other hand, it was only fair that he give her an opportunity to apologize.
It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as Carl climbed into his truck. He’d bet a year’s pay that Candy had been miserable without him. More than likely she’d be grateful he gave her the opportunity to set matters right.
He whistled as he drove into town and parked in front of the feed store. Not wanting to appear obvious, he’d gone to the trouble of making up a list of several items he needed. None of them were essential, but she didn’t know that.
Carl spied Candy the minute he walked into the store. Her gaze zeroed in on him, as well. Oh my, but she was a sight for sore eyes. Pretty as he remembered. More so, he decided. Generally she wore jeans and a shirt to work—not so this day. She had on a Western-style blouse and an ankle-length denim skirt with a lace-fringed petticoat that was three or so inches longer than the skirt. Just seeing her again, the ache inside him intensified tenfold.
“Good afternoon, Carl,” she said, leaving Slim to deal with the one other customer in the store.
He was right, she’d missed him! To show her what a forgiving kind of guy he was, he returned her smile full measure. His heart gave a happy lurch.
“What can I do for you?”
He’d almost forgotten about his list. He reached inside his shirt pocket and handed it to her.
She took it and briefly scanned the contents. “You picked up worming medication the last time you were in. Are you sure you need it again?”
“Throw it in anyway.” He knew what he did and didn’t have in stock.
“This doesn’t look like it’ll be a problem. Do you want me to have it delivered?”
If he did, there was a chance she’d send someone out with it and not come herself. “I can take it with me now.”
“Sure thing.” With the piece of paper in hand, Candy paraded around the store, collecting items.
Carl followed her. “How have you been?” he asked conversationally. He tucked his thumb inside his belt loop and struck a casual pose. He didn’t think she would be honest enough to admit she’d been lonely without him, but it would be a nice touch if she had.
“Good,” she answered absently, gathering together his goods and stacking them on the counter. “How about yourself?”
“Fine, just fine.” He tried to make it sound as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “I decided to buy the Gaudette spread. I put earnest money down on it Wednesday.”
“Congratulations.” She glanced his way and smiled approvingly. She did seem genuinely pleased. Many an afternoon had been spent with her, reviewing his ideas for the property. He was taking her advice on a number of suggestions she’d offered.
“It looks like the deal will close within six weeks.” He felt good about having made that decision. “I thought you’d want to know that I’ve decided not to cut down those apple trees.” He’d made the concession because she felt so strongly about those trees. One of them needed to extend an olive branch first.
“That’s great. If you want a recommendation for someone to prune them, let me know. Hank Harris over at the nursery does an excellent job with that sort of thing.”
“I appreciate knowing that.”
She tallied his order and he paid her. There didn’t seem to be much more to say. “See you later.”
“Have a good day.”
“You, too.” Carl headed toward the door, then hesitated. He wasn’t ready to leave yet. He hadn’t told her any of the things he’d wanted to say. It was a shame to come all the way into town for a load of supplies he didn’t need.
With a bag tucked under his arm, he followed Candy to the back of the store. She was three rungs up a ladder, shuffling salt blocks from one shelf to another. The sight of her derriere thrust at eye level tantalized him to the point of distraction and he found it necessary to look away.
“I’d like to talk to you,” he suggested, making sure his voice contained just the right amount of friendliness, but not overly much.
“Anytime,” she said, twisting around and glancing down at him.
“How about a cup of coffee?”
“When?”
When did she think he meant? “Now suits me.”
