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“This is a business deal. That’s it. I’m not going to be your kicks and giggles just because you're bored and it's out of season for skydiving or whatever you do in the summer.” He bit his bottom lip, his mind calculating. “What are you so scared of?” “There’s a big difference between being scared and being practical.” “Please?” He cocked his head to the side. His sparkling brown eyes went the way of a puppy dog. “Everybody seems to love you at school. I want to see if I can figure out why.”
He got up from his spot on the couch and made his way over to me, holding out his hand. “So we have a deal, then?” I stared at his hand before shaking it once, fast and firm. “I guess.” He shook his head. “Now that’s the attitude I want from the woman I’m dating. I’ll let you get settled. We start at lunch. There’s a mirror in the bathroom if you need to practice your ‘I love Miles’ face.”
“I’m living the dream,” I said, shivering with each word. He held out his hand to me. “When’s the last time you had a chance to jump in a frozen lake with your good friend Miles?” I snorted. “Who?” “I’m not completely past the idea of pushing you in to get this over quicker.” “Fine. I’ll jump. At this point, the water can’t be any colder than I am right now.” “That’s optimistic.” We counted down from three. When we got to one, Miles grabbed my hand and shouted, “Hold on tight!” The snow-covered dock was a blur beneath us, and then we were falling.
“He was just…kind of a jerk.” When Miles didn’t react, I added, “He always...had a way of making me feel small.” My words came out shy and unsure, as if I had just accidentally given him more of myself than I should have. But when I looked at him nervously, he was nodding. “I can see that. He looks like the type who has a habit of doing that to everybody he’s around.”
“You know that you’re not…small, right?” I startled and raised my eyebrows at Miles. His eyes widened, and an embarrassed smile flashed across his face. “No, I meant…you’re not—" He put his hands over his face while we both began to laugh. “I meant that…even though you’re kind of annoying, personality wise…you’re big time. Top-notch.” I was still trying to hold back my laughter when I took in his gaze, piercing and direct on mine. Though he was across the hot tub from me, tingles began at the base of my stomach and worked their way outward toward every limb and nerve ending on my body.
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Not for the first time, I found myself wishing that my bedroom wasn’t right next to the front door on the porch. My first choice had been the other bedroom down the small hallway, but it was locked for some reason, which disturbed me greatly, but when I asked Miles about it, he only shrugged.
Is he on the other side???? *smirk *
All I know is that we have a fake-dating agreement. We have to do everything on the list.” He peered closer at the bingo card and held it out to me, pointing to a square. “And it says mistletoe kiss right here.” “Fine,” I said. “But if your heart gets broken, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Miles gave no sign that he heard me, except for a slight pause before he continued reading off the schedule.
He cleared his throat, snapping me out of my worried thoughts. “One more thing for tonight.” “What?” “My parents want to have us over for ice cream sundaes tonight after the lodge closes.” I froze, wide-eyed. “What? Why?” “Because they want to meet my girlfriend.” He grinned cheekily.
“Because when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worth while.” L.M. Montgomery - Anne of Green Gables
“There are lots of things to love about Miles.” The man in question reared back in his chair slightly before turning to look at me. Probably surprised by my statement. Heck, I was surprised by my statement. “Really?” Miles said, leaning in close and putting an arm around the back of my chair. “Do tell.”
I blinked. Why had I never put those two ideas together? I hadn’t realized they correlated until I began speaking. I just thought he’d been trying to buy the students’ love so they’d want to be in his classroom rather than mine. But…sudden memories of a faculty meeting where we had been discussing the kids we knew weren’t getting enough to eat on the weekends came to mind. There had been several ideas thrown out to help, but to my knowledge, nothing concrete had ever been done. Was this Miles’s way of helping to feed the kids who might not have enough food? And why hadn’t I ever thought of it
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“But one of my favorite things about Olive is that her students, even the boys, come out of her class feeling alive.” I stilled. My heart began pounding, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted him to stop talking or keep going. “She has them read books I’d never have the guts to bring into my classroom, but by the end, they all love her for it. It takes a special kind of teacher to read Jane Eyre to a bunch of teenage boys and have them enjoy it. But she does it. She’s the kind of teacher her students will come back and visit in twenty years because she meant so much to them.”
“I’m not into PDA. I told you.” “With the right guy, you will be.”
“Hiding out, Celery Stick?” Miles appeared suddenly at my side later that night. I was sitting at a table in the lodge, looking out at the crowd of dancers. Miles waited for no invitation and settled into the chair beside me.
“Your mom looks happy,” he said after a long moment. The last thing I needed was for Miles to tell me how wrong I was to feel what I was feeling, so I just said, “Yup. She does.”
“How long have they been married?” “Four months.” He nodded, looking at the happy couple slow dancing to “I’ll be Home for Christmas.” “And how long since your dad passed away?” I drew in a quiet breath, surprised at the hotness in my eyes. I widened them, forcing the sting to retreat. “It will be a year next week.”
“Wanna dance, Olive Oil? For old time’s sake?” I blinked up at Glenn’s sudden arrival in front of us. He was holding his hand out toward me, waiting for me to take it. My body tightened at the thought of dancing with him. Good manners had me wondering if I should say yes, but I had no desire to deal with Glenn right now. Miles wrapped an arm around me, his fingers caressing the top of my shoulder. “Sorry, man. She was just about to dance with me.” Glenn chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. Olive’s loss. Again.”
“If we’re going to be fake dating, can your fake girlfriend request that you stop all the vegetable tray references? Even if it’s just for one blessed week?” “Well, you can sure try, Celery Stick.”
“Alright,” Miles began, “the mistletoe make-out is the last thing to cross off for tonight.” “It did not say make-out.” He pulled away to stare down at me, his eyebrows furrowed in mock confusion. “Pretty sure it did.” “Miles.” “Pickles.” Both of our noses wrinkled. “Too far?” Miles asked. “Yeah.” “My bad. Anyway, let’s plan our make-out—"
I pushed lightly against his laughing chest. “Maybe I’ll just have my mistletoe kiss with somebody else.”
“You’d fake cheat on me?” His voice sounded incredulous. “It would just be a friendly cheek kiss,” I insisted. “It’s how they greet each other in France and Italy. It wouldn’t be cheating.”
growled lowly. “What does that mean for this dumb game you’re playing?” He smiled. “It means that if you can’t find somebody in the three very decent options I’ve given you, you have to kiss me.”
“As far as I can tell, there was only one problem with that kiss,” Miles said finally, his voice a bit deeper than usual. I glanced up at him warily, acutely aware of his fingers pressing into me, absently toying with my shirt at my lower back. “What?” A broad smile crossed his face. “You misjudged the mistletoe by at least thirty feet.”
“Was that just a warm-up for you? Should I move us closer for round two?” “It counts,” I said indignantly. For some reason, I had the urge to laugh but held it together. He grinned, tilting his head toward me. “It doesn’t.”
don’t want to!” My voice sounded pathetic and immature even to my ears, but I couldn’t help it. The cup was warm in my hand. Warm. I honestly hated the taste of milk, and I highly doubted that the warm frothiness I watched spew out directly from a hulking, stinking bovine would help me to suddenly like it. Bile rose up in my throat, and I fought to swallow it down.
He leaned in close, bracing himself with a hand on my shoulder. The second his lips brushed against my ear, I froze. “Carrots, you’re a wild woman now. There’s nothing you can’t do. You jumped into a frozen pond. You had a non-mistletoe kiss with a hot guy. You just milked a cow. You can do this. I know it. You can drink these two ounces of milk.”
The moment the milk hit my throat, I gagged, the warm foam too much for my sensitive palate. Warm, frothy brown milk spewed out my mouth and nose, spraying both Jack and Miles. I coughed and sputtered a bit longer before facing the men. Both were wiping at the excess moisture across their faces and bodies. “I told you.” The men began to laugh. “You did tell us,” Jack said, giving his face one more wipe. “We should have listened.” Miles was grinning when he leaned forward, brushing a drop of milk from my cheek with his finger. “But at least we get to count it.” “You sure about that?” Jack
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“I didn’t realize we were at this point in our fake relationship, Oliviana.”
I took in some air for my lungs and shook my head. “What have you learned?” He held up a finger. “Number one, I’m not really a fake-dating kind of guy. As in, I hate it.”
“Number two.” His strong voice gave me pause in my thoughts enough to look back up at him. “And this is something I’ve suspected for a while but has since been proven true.” “What?” “I’ve got a thing for pretty, uptight English teachers.”
“I would never fake date somebody I didn’t already want to be dating.”
I drew in a breath and tried again to step out of his arms. He let me go a little, but not all the way. “You can’t tell me that.” “Tell you what?” “That you…that you…” I was lost for words. “That I like you?”
“Because it’s only Tuesday. We’ve got three more days here. I don’t want this to be more awkward than it already is. We work together.” My eyes narrowed onto his, trying to look intimidating. “Take it back.” By this time, pure delight colored his eyes. “Take it back? Like we’re five?”
Miles’s revelation changed everything. It all felt different when I thought we both hated each other. I thought of the way he held my hand when we jumped into the pond and then half-carried me out, the way he paid no mind to Glenn, the way his hand felt when it pressed against the small of my back, the way our toe-curling, stupid, un-mistletoe kiss played in my thoughts, and the softness in his eyes as he told his parents—excuse me—lied to his parents about the things he liked about me. Yes…we definitely…hated each other.
Of course, that was before my own personal Bear Grylls tucked me gently underneath a blanket on the couch, lifting my feet to rest against the coffee table. Then, he put in an old DVD copy of Home Alone that he’d also found downstairs, bringing me a cup of cream with a dash of coffee, just how I liked it, and a bowl of freshly microwaved popcorn before he plopped next to me on the couch. It seemed we had both decided to forego dinner at the lodge this evening in lieu of crossing off our Christmas movie bingo square. He was close enough to share the blanket. My blanket. Close enough for me to
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After a moment, I added, “I used to watch it every Christmas Eve with my dad. It was his favorite.” We were both quiet for a long moment. “He sounds like a good guy,” Miles said. I smiled. “He was. But do you just think so because he liked the same kid show you do?” His feet nudged mine softly. “If I had my guess, it was his favorite because it was yours.” Warmth spread across my entire body as his words seeped into my heart. In the twenty-five years I’d been alive, never once had that thought crossed my mind. As a kid, I had never questioned my dad’s taste in the movie. Home Alone was pure
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Warm heat from his fingers grazed mine, and I found myself not objecting when he seemed to get tired of his own game and grabbed my entire hand, locking his fingers inside and moving it to rest on his leg. He didn’t look at me, but I could sense his smile. Tingles erupted down my spine as he played torturously with my fingers. I cleared my throat and remembered that I was a pillar. I didn’t remove my hand, but I did say in a very firm voice, “My hand is cold. I’m just letting you warm it up. That’s all.” A throaty chuckle. “Good to know, Spanks.”
For the most part, Miles obliged, but he took me by surprise when he turned abruptly at the door as I was following him out, causing my body to run smack into his chest. I made the mistake of looking up, and our eyes held for a long moment. It happened in slow motion. I blame the fact that I had just woken up. My defense system had a minor relapse. I had spent too much time cuddled up to him, and now my body seemed to crave his touch. My body was the problem.
Soft lips touched mine like a breath exhaled. Instead of stepping back to end the kiss, my hands clutched tightly at his coat as I moved forward into his arms.
Our kiss was slow and sensual. Indulgent. While he wasn’t exactly forbidden, he tasted that way. Sweet with a bite of danger. One that left me pulling away in a confused state of quaking hands and uneven breaths.
“Are you going to freak out about this tomorrow?” he whispered, a hint of a smile on his face. “It’s starting now, actually.” The smile turned into a grin. “Better throw all my chips on the table, then.” Before I could resist, he balled the sweater at my waist and pulled me to him again. His hands found my face, drawing me close as he kissed me once more.
Spanks, I have to take all the kids in the lodge sledding at 10 this morning. I’d love for you to come with me if you’re interested. (i.e. You HAVE to say yes. It’s for the blackout). I’ll pick you up in a horse-powered sleigh at 9:45. Please dress like you will be going sledding and having fun. Love, Your man with the fine pair of hams (as you well know) I yelled out to the snow-covered forest, “I don’t like sledding!” The forest yelled back, “Everybody likes sledding!” “I don’t like being cold!” “I’ll take care of that!” This time, the forest voice had a flirtatious edge to it, which I
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In retaliation, I squeezed him so tight he gasped before reaching behind to tickle me. I squealed and let out a giggle. A giggle. The sound stopped as quickly as it came. The grown adult woman inside of me blanched to even think about that word. I wasn’t a character in a middle-school Baby-Sitters Club book. Grown women didn’t giggle. But I could think of no other word to describe the high-pitched yapping that exited my mouth. In a panic, my brain rushed to think of something else to describe it, tapping into the well-used thesaurus in my head. Chortle? Snigger? No. There had been no sarcasm
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There was something soft in his gaze, something like velvet that made my skin turn hot despite the cold temperature. Just when I thought I would burn to the ground, he leaned in close and whispered, “You could bottle that laugh and make millions.” And then he kissed me. Just once, quick and sweet on the lips. It was over before I could blink. The sudden warmth his lips brought to mine was gone before I could appreciate the heat. My heart landed in a puddle in my chest. It all felt too casual, too familiar. I had felt the devastating power of his kisses. And now he was making me feel
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“He’s my…friend, Miles.” Miles got off the snowmobile and knelt down beside me in the snow, leaning forward toward the girls so he could whisper something in their ears. Their faces lit up with delight as they looked back and forth between us both. I gave him a wary look. “What did you tell them?” He wore an impish smile. “The truth.” He stood up, brushing the snow off his knees.
I squinted playfully at the two girls at my feet when he walked away. “What did he say?” An eruption of giggles was my only answer before Ben and Chloe came walking over.
She folded her arms and watched me for a moment. “Something was off about you two at first. I’m not sure what it was, but I don’t feel that way anymore. You haven’t stopped looking at him since you got here. And he’s completely gone on you.” My smile dimmed. “What?” She nodded toward Miles, who was now walking our way with Ben. “That is a man highly smitten. And a lumberjack, no less. I couldn’t have planned this better myself.”
“Olive! Are you okay?” Miles’s panicked voice broke into the eerie silence. I felt his hands rolling me onto my back. I stared at his face above me momentarily, dazed as my mind tried to comprehend what had just happened. In a flash, he had discarded his gloves and was feeling around my head and arms. “Olive. Talk to me.” “I’m fine,” I mumbled. “I think. Just disoriented.”
I turned again to Miles, the thoughts in my head becoming clearer now. With some alarm, I took him in, sitting four paces away with his hands on his head. He was rocking back and forth ever so slightly. “Miles,” I said, unable to look away. Maybe he was hurt. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He didn’t answer me. By this time, my stomach was sinking with dread, my mind an anxiety-driven machine now. I rolled to my knees and scooted my way over to him. He was probably hurt and bleeding internally somewhere, and I’d never know until it was too late.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling meekly. “That’s why I freaked out earlier. I thought, for the second time in my life, I’d been involved in killing a girl I cared about.”
