He must really be dumb. Co-worker Liza Finnell was attracted to him, but she didn’t cause even a blip on his radar. If he had half a brain, he’d ask out the sweet, easy-to-read woman. Instead he’d been drawn to Heidi, who’d used him as a rung on her social-climbing ladder but had at least been honest about the basics-say, her name. Then he’d spent tonight flirting with a woman who didn’t respect him enough even to tell him who she was. Everything his old man had ever said about his lack of intelligence circled through Dylan’s mind like a cruel wind. He had noticed inconsistencies in the way Chloe was behaving tonight, but he’d never once dreamed that she might be flat-out lying to him.

It was the second time in a month he’d been left looking like a fool because of a duplicitous female. Before he left Mistletoe, he and Ms. Malcolm were going to have a chat.

THE PHONE RANG at such an unholy hour of the morning that it certainly would have wakened Chloe if she’d actually been able to sleep. She’d gotten tired of staring at the dark ceiling overhead sometime between three and four, tromping in her robe and bare feet to the computer. Might as well get some work done, she’d reasoned. But her mind had been too preoccupied with replaying each second with Dylan-particularly the kissing-to focus on database fields.

“Hello?” As she answered, she experienced a frisson of irrational fear that it would somehow be Dylan on the other end.

Thank heavens it was Natalie instead. “Hey! You took off way too early last night. You had to know I would call first thing for details. What happened that sent you sneaking away without a goodbye?”

Chloe could insist that she hadn’t been “sneaking,” that she’d merely wanted to get home and knew Nat was busy with her reunion responsibilities, but this was her best friend. “I screwed up. You never should have left me alone with Dylan! I was a mess.”

“You’ve always been more critical of yourself than anyone else is. Candy notwithstanding,” Natalie conceded. “Even if you stammered or put your foot in your mouth, I’m sure he didn’t find it as noticeable as you did.”

“He thought I was Candy.”

“Huh?” Nat sounded appropriately flummoxed. In what parallel universe could Chloe be mistaken for head cheerleader and budding socialite Candy Beemis?

“Maybe it was seeing me with you that threw him, but he honestly thought I was Candy. And I…sort of let him go on believing that. I told him to call me C.J., and that I work as an interior designer.”

There was a strangled sound that was either laughter or a gasp. “You’re kidding me!”

“Oh, how I wish I were.”

“So…the two of you talked for a little while, under false pretenses, and you felt so bad about it that you went home?”

“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 risque 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-

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