Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
I catch them up to speed with Evergreen Falls, and our night dancing at the Candy Cane Diner, and onto the Christmas train, and the Love Shack, and even the morning after when he made me an omelet. “With mushrooms,” I add.
Mabel whistles. “Damn. Does he know how deeply you love those little fleshy spore-bearing fungi?”
“Yes! Like a bear loves honey. And there was coffee too.” I pout, then drop my head into my hand. “It was everything I wanted, and he did it for me. Fine, maybe he was trying to prove we’ve been fake-dating for a while—since we have this whole bet going on—but still, he did it.”
Mabel waves a hand dismissively. “Whether he did it for a bet or not, who cares? Like you said, he did it. And actions speak.”
“They sure do,” Leighton says.
“And really, it hardly seems fake then,” Sabrina puts in.
I let out a long breath, my heart hurting. “It’s…complicated.”
“Because it sounds like your feelings might be real,” Leighton says gently.
“They are.” My voice wobbles. “But we made a deal. He doesn’t want anything more. And I…I’m just going to be okay with that. In fact, I’m going to need your help when it ends. Because I think I’m going to miss him,” I say, since this romance is barreling toward heartbreak, and I can’t seem to get out of the way.
“We’re here for you,” Sabrina says.
“Always,” Mabel adds. “You can’t get rid of us ever. We’re like plastic in the ocean.”
I laugh, then rest my head against her shoulder. I needed that.
And I need them.
This—this right here—feels like how I’ll get through the fake-breakup that’s coming my way sooner than I want it to.
When we leave, I feel lighter, freer. I say goodbye to the crew, then make my way to the bakery to meet up with my teammates in a little while. This afternoon they’ll be competing in storefront decorating, which I plan to help them ace.
I’m picturing clever ways to string lights on the Mistletoe Emporium and the Play All Day toy shop when I bump into my brother coming out of Rudy’s. My cheeks heat as I remember my night with Rowan there, but I immediately attempt a mind wipe. Too bad my mind reminds me that Rowan kissed me at the game. There was nothing fake about that kiss. But Jason must understand that fake-dating requires real kisses.
Do I need to explain that kiss to him? I don’t want to, so I seize the moment before Jason can. “Let me guess. You’re buying Rudy’s for Natalie for Christmas?”
My brother lifts a finger to his lips. “Shh. Don’t tell a soul.” Then he nods to the coffee shop. “Actually, I was meeting with the GM for the Sea Dogs.”
Of course that’s his job. But it sounds ominous. “You were? Is someone being traded?”
Like Rowan. Please say it’s not Rowan.
“No,” he says, laughing. “But Clementine—the GM—wanted to thank you for all the work you’ve done for the team. Like donating your services for the Nutcracker Auction and such.”
I smile. “That’s nice of her.”
“She said you’re welcome to leave a few cards at the gala, if you want to promote yourself.”
I nod, but the idea of business cards at a black-tie event feels…wrong. My gaze drifts to the bookstore across the street, and an idea sparks. “How about I set up a little ‘Blind Date with a Book’ station instead? I’ll tuck my card inside each book so it’s a gift and a promo.”
“Even better,” Jason says. “Very you.” He checks his watch. “I need to take off in a minute. Natalie wants to do some present wrapping, then we’re going to watch the storefront decorating together, and what Natalie wants—”
“Natalie gets,” I say, repeating his mantra.
But before he goes, he studies me for a beat, his earlier mirth burning off. In its place is a familiar set of his jaw, a concern in his eyes. Uh-oh. He’s about to go all big brother. “How’s the whole…dating thing going? Sure seemed like you two were putting on a good show last night.”
Butterflies swoop in my belly. Annoying things. “Great,” I chirp.
“Yeah?” It’s asked like he doubts me. Or more like he’s worried about me.
“Absolutely. I’m so happy to help,” I say, practically transforming into a chipmunk.
“Yeah, you’re always so good about that. You’ve really given this your all,” he says, then frowns. “I said this to Rowan, but I’ll say it to you too. I’m sorry if I pushed you into this.”
He’s apologizing? Guilt slithers through me. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I love hard work. How else would I learn to deal with difficult clients without having one?”
“Rowan’s a tough one,” Jason says, dragging a hand through his neat, dark hair. “I’m usually good at reading him. I thought he was ready, really ready, to try again. Maybe not at first, but as he was going along…” He gives another resigned sigh. “Guess I was wrong.”