Page 78 of My Favorite Holidate
I wasn’t expecting him to ask me that. My eyes slice to the rust-colored suspension bridge, a beautiful beast rising over the water. “The Golden Gate Bridge. In a snow globe,” I say, just for fun. And just in case he really does get me something, and I bet he will, since that’s so very him, a snow globe is an affordable gift.
“Then if you’re a good girl, Santa will make sure you have it.”
His voice is deep, hot, a little raspy. It sends a thrum through me. And I need a moment to get my bearings before I respond, “Then I’d better make sure I’m on the nice list.”
“Yes. That’s where you’ll want to be.”
My pulse beats a little faster. I take a long breath to calm down. Refocus. “So, this list. It’s designed to keep us on track in the romance department?”
“Yes, because a close call is too risky,” he says, and I want to tease him a little about the structured nature of his list, but the fact is, he’s right. We’re not simply dipping our toes into the fake dating kiddy pool at the Evergreen Falls Annual Best in Snow Winter Games Competition. After our two public appearances at parties already, we’re definitely a “thing” now. We need to be that thing for the next five days until Christmas since we’ll be in Evergreen Falls through then.
“I agree,” I say.
“If Bibi sniffs us out, that’ll be bad. She’ll have my head. Plus, my mother is coming,” he says.
“From London?” I squeak. I don’t know why this surprises me. Of course it makes sense that his mother would return from London. I just hadn’t thought abouther. She hasstrong Libra energy, he told me at dinner. She’s into the zodiac signs and art and her granddaughter. But that’s all I really know.
“Yes. She’ll be there on the twenty-third,” he says, but his jaw ticks. Like he’s a little uncomfortable. “She’s…very astute.”
My stomach churns. She’s his mom, and moms always know what’s up. Guilt stabs at me. “Wilder,” I say, softly.
“Yes, little elf?” It’s a silly name, but he says it without an ounce of sarcasm. I suspect he’s using it to stay in character.
“Are we going too far? Lying to your mother?”
He seems to give that some thought for a minute. He’s weighing it, I can tell. “It’ll be fine,” he assures me, but that’s not the issue. The issue is I know how he cares about her. Of course he cares about Bibi too, but Bibi can be pushy. From what he’s told me, his mother is not.
“We can tell her,” I offer.
He snaps his gaze quickly to me. “Fable.”
“I mean it. Mac knows. I don’t want you to have to lie to your mother. Clearly you don’t want to.”
“She’ll understand,” he says.
He’s ready to move on. But I can’t leave it alone. “Understand that we’re faking it? Or understand why we didn’t tell her? I don’t want you to have to do something you don’t want to do.”
I feel like I’m imploring him. But this whole fake dating scheme was my idea in the first place. Yes, he went along with it. Yes, it benefits him. But I know he adores his mother, and I don’t want him to struggle with the guilt I feel over not telling Charlotte.
Briefly, he looks away from the road, his gaze softer, but determination still in his eyes. “I appreciate yourconcern. Truly, I do. But she knows what her sister is like. She knows whatmysister is like. She understands the necessity.” He takes a beat then moves on. “But I don’t want to focus on me. I want to focus on the bigger issue—the man who’s determined to beat us. The man who wants to show off his new girlfriend in front ofyou. The man who thinks he knows how to treat a woman,” he bites out. “I won’t let him hurt you. But if Brady finds out,” he says, and the sound he makes is downright feral. It’s a growl, low in his throat. I’m not at all sure what that’s about, but it’s sexy as hell. “He’d seize that opportunity and use it…to gloat.”
Shame crashes into me as I think about the man I mistakenly thought cared about me. For the four months we dated, I believed we were going somewhere. I genuinely liked him. He seemed fun, friendly, eager to please. And, hewaseager to please—another woman.
That massive fail in my romance picker is Reminder Number One why I need to be careful with my heart. Why my caution with emotions is a damn good idea. The more I let people in, the more they can hurt me. I shared my hopes and dreams with Brady. I told him about my friends, and how important Josie, Everly, and Maeve were to me. I told him about my desire to open a shop of my own someday. I told him, too, that I was scared.
A lot of good that did.
I grit my teeth, fighting off a wave of tightness in my throat, the threat of tears over my own foolishness.
But I don’t linger too long in this emotion, since Wilder adds, “And I refuse to let him do that—gloat.” It’s said with steel as we wind past the craggy cliffs of the Marin Headlands. His hands grip the wheel tighter. His knuckles are almost white. His reaction to Brady is sointense. No man’s ever reacted that way because of me. I’m not sure what to make of it, but it’s oddly thrilling. Maybe even more so than the double dose ofOs he gave me earlier in the week.
“Thank you,” I say, kind of amazed he cares this much about my feelings. It’s new and different.
“It’s your sister’s wedding. I don’t want her or you to worry about a thing. I want you to be able to celebrate your sister like I know you want to.”
My chest squeezes with brand-new emotions. Warm, soft ones. Tender ones. “That means a lot to me.”
“Leo adores her. They’re the real thing,” he says almost solemnly, with heartfelt admiration for the two of them.