“Hey,” he said with a grin. “What are you two up to today?”
“Just checking out the booths,” I said, looking around. He had his normal honey, but he also had some jars of jams and preserves, and other items as well. “You seem really busy.”
“Yeah, people seem to think my honey stick will make great stocking stuffers. Those and these spoons.” He pointed to little baggies laying on the table. I picked one up and looked at it.
“Oh, my mom bought some of these at a booth up near her a few years ago,” Landon said. “You use the spoons to stir your tea, and the flavored honey melts off.”
“Right. I have a few different flavors. The orange and the lavender seem to be the most popular ones.”
“Yeah, the lavender was my mom's favorite.”
“I have mint chocolate ones too that are great for hot chocolate.”
“Okay, I'm sold. Let's get some for your mom and some of the chocolate ones for the kids. I bet they’ll love that.” We purchased those and then turned the corner back where we started. If I’d been here by myself, I would’ve made another round to chat with people and maybe hand out a few business cards, but not this year.
“The tree lighting isn't until almost dark. That’s still a few hours away. What are we supposed to do until then?” Landon asked.
“Well, we can go hang out in the coffee shop, or we can go back to my house and put up my Christmas tree.”
“I vote for your house, but we'll have to see if we get the tree up or not.”
One Christmas tree and two orgasms later, and it was time to go watch them light up the tree in the square. As we walked that way, I kept an eye out for any of our friends, not to find them, but to avoid them. I loved the guys, but I wanted this to be just the two of us. I pictured the big window in the back of the stone house. The ceiling there was pretty high, and a tree would be perfect there near that large rock fireplace. It would be so much fun to decorate that house for Christmas.
We walked by a table where a youth group was selling hot chocolate. We purchased a couple cups and walked on over to where people were gathering around the tree.
This was my cousin Tristan's first Christmas as River Gorge's mayor, so it was his job to make a speech before the lights came on. I wondered how he was adapting to the new role, but when he stepped up to the microphone, I grinned. It was easy to see he was eating it up. He gave a nice speech about how thrilled he was to be there and what an honor it was to represent the citizens of River Gorge.
I slid my arm around Landon's waist and pulled him to my side. “I'm glad you're here with me,” I said.
“Me, too. This has been a great day.”
“It has. Landon…I—” The lights on the tree came on, and the crowd around us cheered cutting off whatever I was going to say. It was probably for the best since I couldn't even say for sure what was about to come tumbling out of my mouth, but I'm sure it was something better left unsaid at this point. There would be time for that later, when I had everything sorted out in my own mind.
22
Landon
I was in over my head with this pretend boyfriend business. Back when we started this whole mess, Miller had told me if he ever wanted a relationship, he would be a great boyfriend. I'd laughed at that at the time, but he hadn't been joking. I'd had a difficult week at work. One of the new horses was giving me fits, and I'd had to devote a lot of time to him. By the time the weekend rolled around, I was exhausted. Miller had brought me home and cooked me dinner. Then we spent the evening cuddling on the couch watching ridiculously bad comedies until he took me to bed.
It was basically a perfect night. But he wasn't finished. I woke up to an empty bed and the smell of french toast and bacon. I put on my boxers and went to the kitchen. He had a full breakfast laid out. A smile spread over his face when I walked in, and he quickly pressed a hot cup of coffee into my hands. Then he gave me a quick peck on the lips and said, “You’re adorable in the mornings. I think sleepy and well fucked is my favorite look on you.”
I took a drink of the coffee, sighing as the magical beverage warmed my insides. “Well fucked, huh?”
“You look it, don't tell me you don't feel it, because I know I sure do,” he said. “I made us some breakfast before we get on the road.”
“I love french toast,” I said, taking a seat.
“I know. I remembered from when we were at your parents. I got the recipe from your mom.”
“When did you do that?”
“Yesterday. I friended her on social media and sent her a message. Your mom is really sweet.”
“You friended my mom?” I asked. What the hell was going on? Why was he friending my mom? Why was he talking to my mom? I reached around him and snuck a bite of the french toast, and it melted in my mouth. “Damn, Miller, this is delicious.”
“Good. I was worried I would mess it up, but your mom gives good instructions. Why don't you run and put some clothes on while I finish up?”
I spent the entire time I was getting dressed reminding myself this was just pretend. This Miller Monroe, the one who was contacting my mom to find out how to make my favorite foods, cooking me breakfast, and making me feel like I was special, wasn’t the real Miller. This was my pretend boyfriend Miller.
I thought about last night and the way he looked at me right before we went to sleep, and I knew no matter how much my head knew this wasn't real, my heart wasn't listening. This was exactly what I was afraid of when we started this whole mess. I wasn't good at keeping my distance, and heaven knows if there was ever a time I needed to, it was when he looked at me like I mattered. One week until Christmas, and then this would all be finished. I could manage one more week.
But today, I had french toast waiting for me and a whole day of Christmas shopping ahead, so time to get to it.
Before we left for the city, Miller's phone started pinging. He glanced at it, shook his head, and stuck it in his pocket?
“Was that someone about a house? We can reschedule if you need to,” I assured him. I knew he worked a lot of Saturdays, which made sense since most people are at work all week and like to look at property on the weekend.
“No, it’s a family message. They’re trying to sort out the Christmas details.”
“I thought that was already sorted out. I mean, it's almost Christmas.”
“Yeah, but something happened with the caterer Elsa had hired, and they can't do it. She can't find anyone else who can cook for Christmas Day so she wants to move her shindig to Christmas Eve, but Dad already has everything at his place planned for Christmas Eve, and he was going to El Paso for Christmas Day with my stepmother's family so he doesn't want to swap, and they’re fighting about it.”
“She has Christmas dinner catered?” I asked, stunned. “Who has Christmas dinner catered?”
“Elsa does, apparently. I told you this wasn't going to be a family thing like what your family does. It’s an event.”
“So why does your dad have to move his for her? Why can't they just do it on the same day?”