Page 27 of Skating and Fake Dating (Love in Maple Falls #4)
CARSON
P ractice runs long with drive drills, plus a lot of redundant passing and shooting, making me late for the town meeting.
When I arrive, Councilman Mitchell leans into the microphone, “The fact remains that we can’t look back while our community’s finances run into the river. We have to look forward to the future. At what we could make this place. Sentimentality doesn’t pay the bills.”
Getting up from the section where she was seated with her family, Bailey’s face flushes as she approaches the podium.
She adjusts the mic and clears her throat.
“Keeping Maple Falls a small, quaint town without big box stores and huge developments is part of our identity. It’s what makes us unique and keeps visitors coming back year after year. ”
Mitchell mutters, “Your passion is admirable, but unless you have the cash to offset the offer …”
“We’re fundraising and?—”
I recognize a few familiar faces in the crowd, cheering Bailey on, including her new friend Fiona, whom I’ve also spotted at the arena, when Mitchell interrupts, “And if I’m not mistaken, your current employer is based in New York. Maybe consider calling this home and then you can have a say.”
Bailey’s hand flies to her hip and she huffs.
I get to my feet and blurt out the idea that just came to me, “Some of us are currently inquiring about partnerships with professional organizations for donations.”
A hushed murmur ripples through the room.
“And you are?” Mitchell asks, though his tone suggests he already knows.
“Carson Crane. I play for the Ice Breakers. Maple Falls is charming and has a lot to offer without the addition of making it into a metropolitan area.”
“With all due respect, you’re an outsider. These are local matters.”
Several others nod in agreement.
Eyes flaring, Bailey speaks into the microphone once more. “Carson may be new, but not everyone who cares about this town had to be born here.”
I nod in her direction, but Mitchell isn’t entirely wrong.
The debates continue with Alexander MacDonald’s representative, Jeremy Hunt, brooding and casting glares as if he’s personally offended that residents want to preserve Maple Falls.
I’ll admit, it feels good to feel like I belong somewhere, but the seed in my mind about how I don’t truly belong here was planted and yet, I cannot keep my focus off Bailey, her heart for this place, how intelligently she makes counterarguments, and how beautiful she looks being brave.
Afterward, I wait just outside the door to the town hall. Bailey’s eyes widen as if surprised I stuck around.
“You were amazing in there.”
“Thanks, but I’m afraid we’re not making much progress and I don’t know why Mayor Thompkins wasn’t here. Ashlyn, his daughter, oh, there she is—” Bailey flags her down.
Ashlyn freezes momentarily before approaching, her fingers fidgeting with the button of her blazer. She glances over her shoulder twice as if checking for witnesses.
Bailey launches right into a cheerful greeting. “Hi! It’s so good to see you. Are you back in town?”
Ashlyn shifts from foot to foot. “Just visiting.”
Bailey nods. “Me too. Well, I’m here for my job temporarily and trying to save Maple Falls from developers, you know, all in a day’s work.”
“I do.” A flash of panic flits across Ashlyn’s features before disappearing.
“You do?” Bailey tucks her head in surprise.
Ashlyn clears her throat. “I mean, I understand. There are those of us who see the value in keeping Maple Falls as is and letting things grow organically and those with dollar signs in their eyes.”
Bailey brightens. “Exactly. It isn’t just a place on a map. It’s where we grew up. It’s home.”
My phone buzzes with a text, the vibration unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. When I glance down to see that it’s only from Nate Simpson, I look back up to find Ashlyn already ten steps away, practically speed-walking toward the parking lot.
When I tell Bailey about dinner plans, she scrunches up her nose, then, as if interrupting what she was about to say, changes course. “Wait. Did you notice how weird Ashlyn was acting? Almost like she’s hiding something.”
“Or maybe she also has somewhere she has to be.”
“Or would rather be. About dinner, I’m not so sure I’m team event material.”
“About that—” I start, then the questions bunch up in my brain. I’d rehearsed how I was going to ask her on a real date, just us, but now I can’t remember which one I settled on because all of them seemed wrong. Instead, I say, “Hey, so there’s this thing ...”
She looks up at me, gaze guarded .
“The team expects me to bring someone to the season kickoff party. It’s a formal event, kind of fancy ...”
She tilts her head, daring me to just say the words.
“It’s not a big deal, but if you want to come with me …”
I don’t want to pressure Bailey, especially after seeing her reaction to being recognized in public and what’s sure to become social media comments, more fan encounters, and expectations at team events, from the dinner at Simpson’s to other ones.
She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who wants to live her life on display.
Then I realize that I just got way ahead of myself, looking into the distant future rather than the deadline we have on this fake relationship. The knot in my stomach tugs.
“In addition to the team’s launch party, there’s a charity event coming up. It’ll be more casual. Partners are expected to attend that as well.” I clear my throat as I watch her expression carefully.
“Oh.” Bailey’s smile falters slightly.
“It’s a bit of PR, but it helps preserve Maple Falls, so I figure it’s something you might want to get behind. Just a little, um, bachelor auction.”
The corner of her lip lifts with sly recognition. “So you need your fake girlfriend to make an appearance.”
“You don’t have to, but you know, you could bid on me so your cousins don’t, uh—” Why am I suddenly tongue-tied?
“It’s my job to help you integrate with the team, right? Part of the arrangement.”
Disappointment nips at me as she frames it as work and as part of our agreement rather than something else … something I want it to be.
So I don’t get blindsided like I did with Charlene, if Bailey wants out, I say, “We should probably talk about coming clean soon. This charade is getting complicated.”
The question hangs between us.
I can’t ignore what I want, even though it’s irrational. She meets my gaze and her lips part. I remember the soft warmth of her mouth against mine. How the lines have blurred. The way she makes me feel. How she smiles at me.
At last, Bailey says, “Whatever you need. I’ll make it work. For your reputation. For the team.”
Our worlds collided, but now I’m worried they’re drifting apart again.
However, the real question isn’t what I need, but rather what I want.