Page 13 of The Christmas Arrangement

Dash shifts to face me. “Are you okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.” I keep my gaze straight ahead. The only thing that could make this worse would be to break down crying in front of him.

How am I going to get through a whole week like this?

There’s really only one way out—and that’s through.

I sit up straight, square my shoulders, and stare out the windshield as I say, “I’m sorry. I know the kiss wasn’t real. I just … I enjoyed it. That’s all.”

“Wait.” He tugs on the my sleeve. “Look at me.”

“Can’t. I’m driving.” It’s true. This road gets icy.

“We need to talk. Can you pull over? Right there.” He points to the right shoulder in front of a red brick house. The entrance to the driveway is flanked by a pair of stone lions.

Involuntarily, I giggle. “Not a good idea. That’s Pete and Vicky Swanson’s place. Exactly one year ago today, they had my sister’s boyfriend arrested for trespassing.”

I coast by the rambler and its snow-covered manicured garden while he cranes his head for a better look.

“I thought you this town is supposed to be friendly.”

“It is. Vicky is a special case, but even she’s warmed up over the past year. Plus, technically, they don’t live in the town proper.”

He shakes his head. “We’re getting off-topic. Is there someplace we can talk before we go to the inn? Please.”

“We can stop at the Snowflake Cafe.”

“No. Someplace where we can be alone.”

The word alone sends a frisson of anticipation through my body even though I have firsthand evidence that he doesn’t want to be alone with me for any exciting reason. He probably thinks I’ll break down and make a scene when he explains what a fake relationship means.

He’s waiting for an answer. I consider banging my head off the steering wheel or veering the truck into the creek to put myself out of my misery. But finally I say, “My dad’s fishing cabin isn’t far.”

“Perfect.”

I turn off the road and head toward the woods. We drive in silence across the bridge over Snow Lake and climb the hill to the cabin. I park in the gravel drive next to the wraparound porch.

“This is it.” I kill the engine and flip through my dad’s keyring until I find the key to the cottage.

Then I climb out of the truck and mount the steps to the porch. Dash follows a few steps behind.

“Aren’t you going to lock the truck?” he asks my back while I’m fitting the key into the lock on the front door.

“Look around. There’s nobody here, and bears don’t generally hot-wire vehicles for joyrides.” I glance over my shoulder and give him a small smile. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”

Inside, I stomp my boots on the welcome mat and Dash copies the motion, knocking off the loose snow. Then I flip on the lamp on the side table and eye the fireplace. I doubt we’ll be here long enough to merit starting a fire. Instead, I toss him one of the fuzzy fleece blankets that Noelle has scattered around the cabin. My dad’s fiancee has a thing for books and blankets. There are piles of both everywhere in the cabin and in their living space at the inn.

I wrap a faux fur pink blanket around me like a cape. He’s draped his blanket over his shoulders, too. It’s a velvety brown, and it makes him look like a medieval king or warrior wearing the pelt of some beast. All he needs is a turkey drum in his hand and a stein of beer.

I bite back a laugh and gesture toward the couch so we can get this over with.

He shakes his head. “We can’t stay long. Brody already leaked the location of the cottage where we’re staying to the press. If we don’t show up soon, they’ll get cold and wander away for a drink.”

“Okay. Then say what you need to say. I’ve already said my piece.”

His gaze is intense as he searches my face. “Will you say it again?”

My chest tightens and I rub the blanket’s satin edging between my finger and thumb. I say nothing.