Faking Christmas

“Make out under the mistletoe.”

I tried holding back my smile. “It counted.”

“Not even close, Spanks.”

“You know, for being such a wild adventurer, you sure are a romantic. What would Tyrok think?”

He stopped abruptly, turning toward me, and I immediately realized my mistake. “What did you say?”

A beat of time passed, and I quickened my steps. “Nothing.”

“You said Tyrok.” He said the words like a predator catching scent in the wind.

I shrugged. “It’s a common enough name.”

“Name one person with that name.” Just as we passed through the bridge, he leapt in front of me, walking backward until I stopped.

I took a step back and ran my hand through my hair casually. “My uncle’s…second cousin’s…nephew, once removed.”

His smile grew wider and stepped closer. “Sounds like you’re close.”

We were dancing now, one step backward to his step forward, a challenge tinging the air, me desperately trying not to break. What was it about this cursed place that I somehow couldn’t rest until I revealed all my secrets?

“Do you have something to tell me, Oliviana?” His voice was low and dangerous and sent a thrill from the top of head to my littlest toe.

I was almost trapped. Another step and I’d be against the wall just inside the bridge. According to the “gotcha” smile growing on his face, he was very aware of my plight, so I did the best thing I could think of and took off running back toward the village.

He caught me before I made it three steps. I squealed as his arms locked around my waist. Within seconds, he had lifted me and set me on top of the handrail running the length of the bridge, our eyes now level. He rested his hands on both sides of me. His body was warm and inviting and close. So close.

“Fess up and I’ll make your punishment for withholding information quick.”

“Not too quick, I hope.” I grinned cheekily at him.

In retaliation, he leaned closer, bringing his lips tantalizingly close to mine, but every time I tried to sneak a taste, he pulled back. “How do you know the name of the main character in my Landfall series?”

“I’ve got a secret stash of Miles Taylor books under my bed.”

A beaming bright smile broke out across his face at that. He looked as though he would devour me on the spot but held off, eyes narrowing.

“Since when?”

“Since I first learned you wrote them.”

He raised a brow. “Pages worn and dog-eared?”

“One under each post of my bed, actually. They’re just the right height to give me more room for my Glenn Foster collection.”

He tickled me mercilessly for that one before taking my face in his hands and kissing me speechless. I was about to fall off my precarious perch on the handrail, so of course I had to cling to him. For my safety. My hands roamed up past his shoulders and into his hair. His hands eventually moved to around my waist. I gasped as his thumbs brushed against my ribs before wrapping his arms around me, squeezing me tight against him. When he finally released me to come up for air, he pulled me in close. Our heartbeats drummed wildly.

“What about your Kindle?” Miles asked. “Any secret copies on there?”

“I told you, I’m taking that information to my grave.”

His warm lips kissed my jawline, pulling me into such a state of euphoria that when he nipped at my earlobe, it caused me to pant and flinch away, laughing.

“I don’t have anywhere I need to be the rest of the day, so if you think your family will start missing you, you’d better speak up now,” he said.

I wanted to tell him I was perfectly content to stay here as well, except for the fact that my butt was starting to go numb on the small handrail. I nestled in close to his neck and whispered one last truth, my lips brushing ever so softly against his ear.

“You’re on my Kindle. And I’ve read your books more times than Jane Eyre.” His reaction was instant, and for several long, LONG moments, we stood under the red covered bridge, wishing each other a very Merry Christmas.

But then, I pulled away, remembering something terrible. “And by the way, I’m so sorry, but I didn’t get you anything for Christmas.”

He snickered, leaning in for another kiss as though I had stopped too abruptly. “You being obsessed with me and my books is enough, trust me.”

“I feel like obsessed is a strong wor—”

Miles rudely interrupted me, though I felt his smile against my lips. Okay, okay, maybe I was a little obsessed.





TWENTY SIX





“The ledge of the cliff was within my grasp. With rasping breaths, I summoned the fortitude to leap upward to freedom. When my hand clutched the root of a tangling vine, I breathed the first sigh of relief in days. That is until the pirate wench, Rita, peered over the ledge and stomped on my hand. Laughing while I plummeted back down the mountainside.”

Miles Taylor - Landfall





The lodge held one last dinner on Christmas night. From my seat near the door, I spotted Mom and Russ sitting by the Fosters at their table. With Glenn gone, there was no awkward, avoiding-of-the-eyes thing, which was nice. I waved to Chloe and Ben at the table next to them. Miles had wanted me to meet his sister, Lainey, so I found myself across the room, seated next to his family.

Lainey was twenty-three and worked as a wedding photographer in Boston. I couldn’t help but notice the family resemblance in her lean build. Her eyes also frequently lit up in laughter, crinkling down the sides.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said, leaning forward across the table, her long brown hair falling across her shoulder. “You both hated each other at school?” She glared at Miles. “How could you not like her?”

Miles drew his arm around my chair, brushing against my shoulders. “That wasn’t ever my problem.”

Lainey’s green eyes widened in understanding as they focused on me. “Oh, you didn’t like him. That makes more sense. Miles can be very annoying.”

“So annoying. Right?!” I said in solidarity, turning to grin at Miles who frowned playfully. His hand moved to my side in an attempt to tickle me, but I grabbed it with my right hand, which was now crossed over my stomach, and held it there.

Lainey eyed our hands. “Well, it looks like you figured out how to live with each other.”

I gave Miles a warning look before slowly releasing his hand. I really wanted to finish my prime rib and mashed potatoes. He didn’t tickle me. Instead, he removed his arm from around my chair and dropped it onto my leg.

“Speaking of living, I heard you’re staying in his cabin,” Lainey said as I took a bite of mashed potatoes. “I hope he cleaned it for you.”

My body froze at her words. After a moment, I remembered to swallow the potatoes stuck like glue in my mouth. I turned to Miles to see him issue a warning look at his sister. He met my eyes somewhat guiltily.

“Your cabin?” I asked.

“Lainey,” Miles whined.

“She didn’t know?” his unrepentant sister countered. “Why wouldn’t she know that?”

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