Chapter Three

Jackson stared at the counter. The embarrassment on his face boosted Candy’s confidence. The burn on her arm stung, though not nearly as bad as Jackson’s betrayal of their friendship.

Candy remembered that night as if it were yesterday. She had driven to Wolfridge, which was the town ten minutes away and bustles with more shopping outlets and home to the college. She’d gone to pick up supplies for the chocolate shop when she saw Jackson’s convertible in a bar’s parking lot. She should have continued on her errands, but her curiosity won out.

He sat in a corner booth with a few of his old high school buddies, and based on his bellowing and abrupt banging on the table, he was loaded, drunk. Candy walked to the bar and ordered a bottle of water. Jackson immediately locked eyes on her and called her over to join them. Ignoring him wasn’t an option, not unless she wanted a disturbance. The other patrons in the bar grimaced at his obnoxious behaviour. She reluctantly approached the table and he pulled her beside him on the seat, his arm dangling heavily across her shoulders.

An hour later, Candy had finally convinced Jackson to hand over his keys. She went outside and parked his car by the door, but when he didn’t show she went back inside to fetch him. That was when she overheard his arrogant comments. He even went so far as to bet money on his conquest.

Candy’s heart broke at his words. She couldn’t move or breathe. She thought Jackson cared for her, at least as a friend. His ruthless attitude had been worse than any name-calling she received in school.

Her mood had soured, and how she mustered the strength to walk around the corner of the booth, she’ll never know. She had grabbed his shirt collar and physically dragged him outside, resisting the urge to kick him to the curb.

Candy’s wandering thoughts returned. She washed the dishes in the sink, set them on a tray to dry, and then inhaled a deep breath before turning to face Jackson. “I heard you when I came back in the bar. You were making a bet with your friends, bragging and talking smut about me.” Her voice trembled and a bitter chill seeped into her bones. “You knew I had a crush on you, and even though my brother was your best friend you acted as if I was one of those cheerleaders who worshipped the ground you walked on. I thought you were better than that.”

“I was. I am!” Jackson interrupted. “I had no idea you were there.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“I was drunk and showing off. I never meant to hurt you.” Jackson’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “I get that you were pissed, but marriage as a payback?”

“No.” Candy wiped the counter with a damp cloth, anything to keep her hands busy. “You asked me to drive around for a while, and that’s when you told me about the fight with your father.” She placed the cloth on the sink’s ledge. “I actually felt sorry for you, even after what you’d said at the lounge.”

Candy had pulled over to the side of the road and held Jackson in her arms. That’s when he kissed her, hard and demanding. She let her guard down and he swooped in like an eagle after its prey. She should have pushed him away, told him to stop, but she couldn’t. The man she loved with every inch of her being was kissing her. Making her toes curl with desire she never knew existed. “You...you kissed me, and...”

“We did it in my car?” Jackson’s eyes went wide, his lips parting.

“If you had your way, we would have.” Candy blushed and stared at the spice rack behind his shoulder. “I got nervous and told you I hadn’t been with a guy before. I didn’t want my first time to be in the back seat of a car.”

Jackson raked a hand through his hair. “Did I convince you to marry me so I could have sex with you?”

“Not exactly, though you did suggest a hotel. We stopped for gas and you won a candy ring from a gumball machine. You asked me to marry you, even went down on one knee in the parking lot.” She paused. At the time, his actions seemed sweet and genuine. “I refused your proposal and then you kissed me again in the car. I thought your advancement was all about the bet you made, that you were using me to prove what a stud you were. I got angry and drove us to the little chapel on Willow Lane.” Candy nudged a crumb on the floor with the tip of her shoe, avoiding his eyes. “Did I take advantage of the situation—yes, but not because I was a desperate twenty year old girl. You deserved to pay for your despicable ego.”

Silence swallowed the room. “Wow, I never would have thought you had it in you.” Jackson laughed light-heartedly. “You lived by the book growing up. You tried being rebellious, but everyone knew you wouldn’t harm a fly. The teacher’s pet, isn’t that what they called you?”

Candy refused to answer. She had been teased in school. Teased for being smart and her name. Kids made up too many candy cane rhymes. But the mockery suddenly stopped and the bullies found someone else to bother.

“So, we got married and then what? Did we go to the hotel and make wild passionate love?” Jackson swaggered toward her, leaning on the counter with one hand.

Candy wanted to slap that smug smirk off his face. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction by telling him the intimate details. “You passed out. I threw our wedding certificate in a box in the trunk of your car and left. The end.” Fast forward to the truth.

He slumped, seeming almost disappointed. “As much as I’d like to make up for our lost wedding night, unfortunately, time is of the essence.” Jackson reached inside the breast pocket of his suit jacket and withdrew another envelope, passing it to her.

Candy stared into his brown eyes. Whatever lay inside the envelope couldn’t be good. She unfolded the paper and scanned the contents. “You want a divorce?”

“Need is more accurate. The business acquisition I’m involved in needs to be handled by a single man. Long story short, the guy has issues with women, divorced multiple times and paid out big money. He claims women get in the way of business and he will only work with men who are not tied to marriage. If he found out I had a wife, he’d take his business elsewhere.”

Candy snapped her eyes up and searched his face. She sighed in relief. She thought he was going to say he’d found the love of his life and wanted to marry. Not that she’d care if he had, but leave it to Jackson to be all about business.

An acquisition of her own popped in her head. He might be a bit too tall, but nothing a quick readjustment to a hem couldn’t fix.

Jackson walked to the supply shelf, picked up a pen, and offered it to her. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’m in a hurry.”

She tapped the pen against her chin. Yes, this plan could work.

“Why the hesitation? I thought you’d be just as eager to end our marriage.”

Not just yet. Candy had a problem and Jackson was her solution. “You need a divorce, I need a Santa.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

She flashed a sinister smile and winked, pointing to the clothing bag hanging from a hook on the wall. A Santa hat peeked from the open zipper. “Give me your best ho ho ho.”

“No...no way!” Jackson stepped back, colliding with the wall. “If you think I’m going to dress up as Santa, you’re out of your mind!”

****

“No Santa, no divorce.” Candy flicked the pen through the air and it clattered onto the table.

Jackson could read Candy’s expressions. They’d spent a lot of time together. She’d tutored him through high school, so he knew when she pressed her lips together and squared her shoulders, end of discussion. Her way or the doorway. “Come on, Candice.”

She frowned. “Everyone now calls me Candy.”

“But you made us promise to use your full name.”

“That was in school. The name-calling days are long gone.”

He remembered those kids and how he and Colin threatened they’d be sorry if they ever bothered Candy again. Jackson released a sigh. “I always wondered what our parents were thinking when they chose our names.” He shrugged. “Candy, be fair. I couldn’t stay even if I wanted to. I have to catch a flight back to Victoria and close this deal.”

“I’m sure you can come up with a story to postpone your business a few days.”

“Sure, if I’m willing to lose out on two-point-five million.”

The divorce papers in Candy’s hand fluttered to the floor. She blinked rapidly. “You’re lying, just to get me to sign the papers.”

Jackson retrieved the document and placed it on the counter. He stepped toward Candy and clasped her hands in his, hoping a little charm might seal the deal. “I’m truly sorry about the things I said in the past and for my behaviour. Deep down, you know I’d never intentionally do anything to hurt you. You’re the reason I’m the successful businessman I am today. I owe you everything.” He squeezed her hands. “I want this acquisition to go through and all I need is your signature. I’ll make it worth your time—a little token of my appreciation. How much do you want?” He glanced around the room. “This place could use some work.”

Candy’s hands trembled in his. They were small and soft, and he couldn’t resist caressing her palms with his thumbs. A memory flashed through his mind, but before he could grasp hold of it, Candy yanked her hands from his and pushed his chest, sending him reeling backwards.

“I don’t need your pay-off. What I need is a Santa. I promised the children and they’re not going to be disappointed.” She pressed her lips tight a second time.

“I’m sure someone in town could volunteer.”

“Our regular Santa is ill and everyone else is busy.” She picked up the divorce papers and held the top edge in her fingertips, ready to tear. “You’ll be out of here the day before Christmas Eve. Four days of Santa and I’ll sign the papers. That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.” She tore a small slit in the centre.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it.” Jackson shook his head. Spending a few days in town might put his business deal at risk, but he was more nervous that the lingered visit would stir up emotions he’d put to rest long ago.

“I’ll hold on to this.” Candy waved the document in front of his face. “In case you change your mind. And no one knows about us being married, so don’t trek around town dropping the bomb.”

“You didn’t tell anyone?”

“No.”