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 laugh so hard. “The Christmas tree farm? Really?”
“So you’re admitting it then. Excellent.”
“You’re exasperating."
“And yet you’re fake-dating me.”
I fight off a laugh. “If,” I say, emphasizing the conditional, “if you impress me, I’ll admit it. But these dates better be good.”
“They’ll be great.”
He glances at his watch. He’ll need to pick up Mia soon. We don’t have much time, but there’s one more thing I want to say. This is important. “And I hear you—you aren’t looking for love. I get that especially after what you just shared.” I take a breath, gathering my thoughts. “But I also believe there’s a chance for everyone. And I want you to find your chance. Even if it takes time and mistakes, stops and starts, heartaches and hope along the way. I know you think you aren’t capable of falling in love. I understand why you’d be wary of wanting to try. But I believe in second chances, and I believe you are capable of feeling that way again.”
“You really do?” He sounds skeptical but just shy of hopeful.
“I really do. And I want you to think of these practice-dates—”
“These fake-dates.”
“Fine. These fake-dates. Think of them as practice before the game. You can make mistakes; you can misstep. And then, when you get out there again on the ice, maybe dating won’t feel so awful. We’ll get this out of our systems now. And after the holidays, sometime next year, I bet you’ll be ready. I bet you’ll even say dating and romance don’t have to hurt.”
I sound hopeful even to my own ears—almost like I’m making a pitch. Maybe because I don’t want to fail. This thing with him is short-term, but if I can help him in some way—a tip here or there—I can at least feel like I’m doing some good. Putting more love back into the world, eventually.
He’s scrubbing a hand over his beard, his gaze contemplative. Then he nods. “Okay, I can do that. I’ll try my best.”
Rowan sounds so genuine, and I appreciate the effort he’s making. “Thank you.”
He leans back in the chair, blows out a long breath, and says, “What you’re saying is you want to fake-date me and get me out of your system. This is just like a Christmas movie.”
“Yes,” I say, but then it hits me that there’s one more person, aside from Jason, who should be in on this. “You’ll tell Mia too?”
He wastes zero time debating it. “Good save. I’ll do it tonight at home.”
When he’s done with his hot cocoa, he gathers the cups, a wistful look on his face. “Short date.”
“But a good one.”
“Very good,” he says, then freezes, like something just occurred to him. “Want to come with me to pick up Mia?”
Sounds like he isn’t ready for this date to end either. “I’d love to.”
32
A LITTLE SOCIAL INTERACTION
ROWAN
“Look! Isn’t it so cute?” Mia thrusts an ornament my way as we leave the pottery studio.
I inspect it and…damn. “You’re an artist,” I say, admiring the ornament—a stack of five miniature books hanging on a hook.
“It’s really good,” Isla adds.
Mia’s smile is bright and pleased. “Thanks! Charlotte made a cool one too.” She cranes her neck behind her as her friend catches up next to us on the sidewalk.
“Charlotte, show your ornament to my dad—and my lawyer.”
Corbin stops short, tilting his head Isla’s way. “You’re a lawyer and a matchmaker?”
I tense for a second, my words from earlier playing on a loop. I told him I’m into someone, and it’s fuck-all complicated. Will he figure out that Isla is that person? But then, the fake-dating plan—when we roll it out—ought to cover that.
Some of the tightness eases as Isla answers nimbly, “A matchmaker who moonlights as a lawyer.”
She handled that perfectly. “And these two ganged up on me and tried to convince me to make an Advent calendar of books,” I say. “Basically, Isla decided she was Mia’s counsel. They twisted my arm.”
Corbin scoffs. “Yeah, sounds like it was real hard to convince you.”
“So hard,” Isla teases.
“Dad, we need to do the calendar tonight,” Mia says, tugging on my arm.
“Yes, we do—and you can read me a chapter,” I tell my kiddo.
“And then tomorrow, you’ll give her another book?” Isla asks, all innocence. She is such an enabler.
Charlotte whips her gaze to Corbin. “Dad, I want a book Advent calendar too. That sounds like a fun idea.”
Corbin looks like his head is spinning. “Maybe show me your ornament first.”
Charlotte displays a ribbon made of Scrabble tiles. It spells D-O-G-G-Y.
I snort-laugh. “I think someone’s trying to tell you something.”
“I even made a calendar for how we can make it work in your schedule, Dad,” Charlotte says, and I laugh harder.
“I, for one, think this D-O-G-G-Y suggestion is an excellent one,” Isla says to my buddy. “I highly recommend Little Friends Animal Rescue. They have an Evergreen Falls branch. I’d be happy to assist.”