Free One Lucky Deal by Kelli Evans Page B

potatoes on the stove. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her cook. His stomach rumbled—screw that—his whole body rumbled. He was a hungry man. Starving.
    “Hey.” Tad finally announced himself. Candace jumped, and Tad tried not to smirk about it.
    “Oh, hi.” Her smile dissipated, and he wasn’t used to that. It cut him deep enough to bleed.
    “It’s our next challenge.” Candace forced a laugh. “I have to cook for you. You have to cook for me and then we have to … cook together. I don’t know when we’re going to accomplish these things because I’m swamped until this weekend after this wedding.”
    “Candace.” Tad started and walked toward her. She held up a hand to stop him.
    “Tad.” She looked down at her feet for a second. “I—” But she shook her head. “Truce?” She held her hand out, poised for their ridiculous handshake that they’d developed all those summers ago at camp.
    “But—” Tad began.
    “Truce. Tad, please?”
    He searched her blue eyes. The vulnerable look on her face grabbed him by the gut. He reached out and clutched her fingertips with his. They both leaned in. Candace with her eyes closed. Tad kept his wide-open. They sealed their handshake by kissing briefly the pad of the other’s thumb.
    “Truce.” Candace pulled back and gave him a wide smile. Her shoulders slumped like a weight had been lifted.
    “I don’t know why we needed one of those,” Tad told her. “I’m always on your side.”
    She stared up at him, and he wondered why what he’d said made her cheeks flush and force her to look away. He decided not to push the issue. She obviously needed him to drop it. So he did, and with one discreet move of his hand along the front of the fridge the word he’d spelled out for her earlier was gone—just another scrambled jumbling of letters.
    “It smells amazing,” he told her.
    “Thanks.” She smiled and that’s when he noticed the grease he’d smeared accidentally across her lips from his thumb and their ridiculous truce handshake.
    “Candy.” Tad cleared his throat and stepped closer to her. “You’ve got a little…” He wanted to wipe it off for her, but he was afraid he would just get her dirtier.
    Jesus—just looking at her mouth—he had no idea why he couldn’t look at her anymore and just see his friend. She was something so much more than that; headliner of his recent fantasies for one. He wished he understood it. Complicated was not even in his vocabulary, and somehow over the last month he’d sure managed to make the easiest relationship in his life the epitome of complicated.
    “What?” Candace asked and dipped her head to catch her reflection in their shiny toaster oven. “Damn it, Tad.” She laughed and left the kitchen to go clean her face.
    * * * *
    The week was crazy. Work was demanding for both of them, and Reagan was more accident-prone than anyone Candace had ever met. Her wedding was coming up fast—the end of that week, to be precise. Ronnie—not Reagan—was freaking out. Reagan was cool as a cucumber and looking happier and more excited by the day, but Ronnie was losing her freaking mind.
    Candace was still getting two a.m. text messages, but not from Tad anymore. They were from Ronnie about things like seating arrangements and if every table should get flowers or just every other table. Or what color toenail polish Candace was going to be wearing because Ronnie wanted to coordinate.
    So when Tad and Candace found a second to cook dinner together, she took the opportunity to shut off her phone. It was pizza. It sounded amazing. They’d shredded cheese, made the sauce already, and had sliced the pepperoni. Candace could not stop sneaking pieces of it.
    “Okay, want to toss it?” Tad asked with a grin.
    “Yes.” Candace popped one last bite of pepperoni into her mouth.
    “Here.” Tad handed her the dough. “Now just stretch a little with your fingers and toss it.” Candace attempted it but it