by Liz Durano
"That's a Fleetside," he says excitedly. "I wonder if that's a 265-cid V-8."
I laugh. "You better ask him. For a second there, I could have sworn you spoke a foreign language."
After a few minutes of peeking through the windows, I pull him away from the barn and we return to the trail leading to the house. "I'd love to ride up here along with my brother and the guys one day."
"Summer's a great time to do that. The lake is two miles from here and there's so much to do. Swimming, fishing, or laying out on the beach. Canoeing, too, if you're into that. Or kayaking. That's when the Soraya is usually busy with nature workshops."
I suddenly freeze in place, my gaze at two couples walking along the trail toward us. "Great! It's Elliot and his parents... and Minerva."
"Why are you whispering?" Logan asks, his voice lowering.
"Because I have no idea what to say to them."
He takes my hand, squeezing it. "A simple Merry Christmas will do fine. You've moved on, remember?"
They stop when they see us approaching. After a pause, three of them head back the opposite direction, leaving only Elliot standing along the trail waiting for us. I can't believe he didn't go back with his parents and Minerva but it's also classic Elliot. He was never one to back down from anything and certainly not from me.
With his blond hair, green eyes and aquiline nose and wearing a V-neck brown sweater over a light gray t-shirt and blue jeans, Elliot could have stepped out of a men's fashion magazine. It brings back memories of how fussy he used to be about every piece of clothing he owned. Everything had to be perfect, every suit tailored. Even his dress shirts were purchased from London's Saville Row. I should have noticed how my best friend had been more in tune with his fashion tastes than I was, but I push the thoughts away as Logan squeezes my hand.
"Hey, Mariah, Merry Christmas," Elliot says.
"Merry Christmas to you, too," I mumble. "I hope you guys are doing well."
"We are. By the way, I'd like to introduce you to my fiancé, Logan."
Elliot stares at Logan for a few seconds before shaking Logan's hand. "Nice to meet you."
Logan looks serious. "Nice to meet you, too."
"Hey, Mariah, I'm sorry for using the trail that goes through the Soraya but it was the shortest route from–"
"It's no big deal. We're all neighbors," I say as Logan squeezes my hand.
"Ready to go, love?" he asks, looking at me with an intensity I've never seen before. But I also get it. I don't want to stand around making small talk with my ex either.
"Well, it was nice to see you again. Say hello to your family for me." With a wave goodbye, Logan and I walk past Elliot and keep going, neither of us talking until I spot a small bridge and stop.
"That's the spot," I say as I breathe a sigh of relief.
"It wasn't so bad, was it?" Logan asks. "You've moved on."
"I guess I have," I say quietly. "I used to cross this bridge when I was a kid to get to the blackberries that grew just beyond the trees. They still do and you've got to be ready to deal with the thorns but I didn't care. I'd pick as much as I could and eat them right on the spot. Mom and Dad used to find out because I'd come home with purple fingers and lips. And scratches on my fingers."
Standing in the middle of a small bridge, we lean against the railing to watch the creek flowing below us. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, forcing all thoughts of Elliot and Minerva away. I knew this was going to happen and it wasn't as bad as I thought. But if there's one positive thing about running into Elliot again, it's that I don't feel anything for him at all.
"I'm sorry they hurt you, Mariah. I wish there was something I could do," he says quietly.
I smile. "Thanks, but that was two years ago and I think I've recovered from it."
Logan opens his mouth as if he's about to say something but he stops himself. We spend the next ten minutes watching and listening to the water running below us.
"Mariah, we need to talk about something before we go back into the house," Logan says as I turn to face him. "We never discussed just how this pretend thing is going to be, like what's on the table and what isn't. I would assume you don't want us to appear cold in front of them, right? Especially in front of your ex-fiancé and your former friend."
"Definitely not," I reply. "That would make this whole engagement thing useless."
"When you came up with this idea and hired the other guy, what did you have in mind?"
"I never really put a lot of thought into it, to be honest," I stammer. "I was so busy getting everything ready for the New Year's Eve wedding that I figured Cooper would know what to do and how to do it."
Logan's eyes narrow. "Mariah, the guy you hired was an escort. You do know what escorts do, right?"
"I figured if I told him that sex was off the table, then he'd do everything but that?" I don't even know why my answer comes out as a question. I had never thought to look into the details. All I needed was someone to pretend to be my fiancé.
Logan doesn't speak for a few moments. "Alright, let's try this." He takes my hand and brings it to his lips. They're warm and soft, his day-old stubble tickling my skin.
"That's... that's nice," I whisper, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Do I really need tips on how to react to a man kissing the back of my hand? Well, apparently, in Logan's case, I do.
"And this?" His other hand moves up toward my face, his fingers warm against my cheek, his thumb brushing along my chin. It sends tingles running up and down my spine.
"Um... that's nice, too."
"Don't giggle," he murmurs. "I'm serious here. He's still watching us, you know."
My eyes widen. "He is?"
"The woman came back. She went around the vegetable garden."
"The nerve–"
"Close your eyes."
I do what he says and wait. I should know what's coming next. After all, I've lost count of how many times I've secretly wondered how it would feel like to be kissed by Logan Garrison. I feel him move his face closer, his cologne mingling with the faint scent of leather and motor oil, making my stomach clench. The kiss is faint and soft, our lips almost touching, our breaths warming the barest of space between us. It's as if time decided to stand still at that moment, making every millisecond count until our lips touch.
But they don't.
That's because my phone buzzes from inside my jacket and in my panic, I pull away. Why do I feel like I'm doing something I shouldn't be doing? I fumble for my phone and tap on the display, a text message from my manager appearing on the screen.
Merry Christmas, boss! Just wanted to let you know the day's sales numbers have been uploaded and everything is set up for NYE wedding. Will be back at the shop on the 26th.
"Work?" Logan murmurs as I put my phone away, the opportunity for the kiss I never realized I'd been waiting for all these years now gone.
"Talk about timing, right?"
"It is practice," he says, smiling. "I just don't want you acting surprised when it happens in front of everyone."
I take a step closer, suddenly feeling bolder. "Why don't we try it again? You know, just to be sure we don't get anything wrong."
"Next time, Mariah," Logan murmurs as his head dips lower, his fingers soft against my cheek, "let the phone ring."
Who knew it's been so long since I've been kissed? A proper kiss, that is, one that makes me weak in the knees while the butterflies in my belly are going crazy. Logan's kiss is soft and warm, gentle and playful. He nips my upper lip first and then my lower lip before finally kissing me. It's a slow and tortuously delicious kiss, one that has me standing on my tiptoes so I can have more.
My lips part to taste his tongue slipping between my teeth. I taste peppermint and coffee. I smell leather and motor oil and masculinity all wrapped into one package, enveloping all my senses.
Logan pulls me closer, lips against lips, tongue against tongue, our bodies pressed together. My arms go around his neck, holding on
for my knees are about to buckle. How can a simple practice kiss render me suddenly helpless?
But this isn't a simple kiss. This isn't even practice. This is real.
I pull away, surprised at my thoughts and the way my body is responding to him. It's buzzing with electricity, as if I'd just touched a live connection and my hair is standing on end—in a good way. But there's something else, something that goes even deeper. Why do I feel like the floodgates to emotions I've never acknowledged have finally been flung open, the sight of Logan's intense blue eyes reminding me that at the end of this charade, I'll be alone again?
"Maybe we should go back inside," I stammer. "I think that's enough practice for now."
"Yeah, maybe we should." His voice is almost hoarse when he speaks, the lines on his forehead more prominent now as he gazes at me. It's as if he's just as surprised as I am, although why I have no idea.
Logan is only doing me a favor, after all. He's only pretending to be someone he's not. And after this is all over, we'll go back to the way things were... as friends.
6
Logan
Whoa. I didn't expect that.
Hell, I didn't expect anything. But what happened just now is rocking me to the core. I've always found Mariah to be beautiful inside and out, but I've always reminded myself to see her as a friend, the way one observes someone they know is out of their league and so their only choice is to watch them from afar. In my case, from the other side of the counter. Hers and mine.
Mariah comes from a different world than I do. And coming here to meet her family proves that. Hers is full of love and laughter while mine never was great to start with if not for Liam and I being each others' shadows, especially after Mom died.
I just don't understand why Mariah, who seems to have all the support of her family whether she's engaged or not, is going through this whole charade of being engaged. And she's not doing it for them. She's doing it for the guy next door who broke her heart by cheating on her with her best friend, and by me agreeing to do this with her, we're dragging her whole family along for the show.
Are Elliot Whats-His-Name and his wife worth it?
But if they hadn't hurt her by doing what they did, I wouldn't be here. Same goes for that snowstorm that left this Cooper guy stranded in New York. If he had made it, I wouldn't be the one to have kissed her right now only to have that kiss feel like I'd been hit by a Mack truck. If I had thought pretending to be Mariah's fiancé would be a piece of cake, I was wrong. So wrong. Now I feel excited and vulnerable, both at the same time, and there's nothing I can do about it.
We make our way back to the house. This time, she grabs my hand and holds it all the way to the front door. Elliot and the woman are gone but it doesn't matter. The charade is back on and if there's one thing that I want besides making sure I do everything right, it's more of what just happened between us... only this time I want it to be real.
But it was also my idea to sign up for this, all because I figured it was something different, something that would take my mind off another Christmas without Mom. Instead, everything about Mariah's family has brought back memories of Mom and her kitschy decorations that Liam and I used to hate growing up but treasure every single one since she got sick. I remember how her mere presence lit up any room, like the way Mariah's smile does, too. But whether Mariah's family has only made my mother's absence even more acute two years later, it doesn't change the fact that I volunteered to help Mariah out and I have to make sure to finish what I started.
Inside the house, I meet Mariah's older brother Forrest who looks every bit like a mountain man with his dark beard and red plaid shirt over thermals. Mariah told me he's only 32 but the beard makes him look much older. He came in with a woman named Summer who happens to be renting one of the cabins. She'd arrived that morning but after finding out that she was on her own—and had no idea how to work a wood stove—Forrest invited her to join the family for dinner.
While we make our way to our seats at the table, I realize this is showtime. This is when Emily will probably interrogate Mariah and me. Suddenly I can barely keep myself calm, my mind going a mile a minute. What did we agree on during the drive here? Where was our first date? I'd been so casual then, whipping out the answers like candy, thinking this whole thing was nothing but fun and games.
Only it's not funny anymore. And it stopped being a game the moment we kissed.
Dinner begins fifteen minutes later and Mariah and I sit next to each other. Across the table in front of us sit Emily and Brad while Jonathan is seated on a baby seat between them. With Mariah's parents seated at the head of the table, Forrest and Summer are seated next to me while Harper sits next to Mariah. Just as she'd warned me earlier, her youngest sister is already filming everything with her phone on a self-stabilizing selfie stick. Her first order of business is the food as she orders us not to touch any of the dishes yet.
I turn to look at Mariah who's stifling a giggle. "You weren't kidding. She's a pro."
Harper shushes everyone. "Act normal now. No looking at the camera."
"I warned you." Mariah's voice lowers, "Now act normal."
Christmas Eve dinner for the Peters residence is a smorgasbord of dishes from roast turkey with cornbread and walnut stuffing, Christmas ham with pineapples, sweet potato casserole with marshmallows on one side and plain on the other (apparently to appease the siblings, the girls who like having the marshmallow on top and Forrest who prefers it without), cranberry sauce, and persimmon pudding. There are other dishes, too, like green bean casserole, pecan pie that's warming in the oven and a gingerbread house Jonathan and Brad assembled earlier. It's enough food to feed over twenty people but Mariah tells me that it's also meant for tomorrow as leftovers because no one will be slaving away in the kitchen then. Except to make the coffee.
"Either that or we do the cooking and it's something us sisters haven't mastered yet," she adds. "That's why Mom and Dad kick us out of the kitchen every Christmas."
"Forrest is actually a better cook than all his sisters combined," Brad says as Emily glares at him. "Go figure."
"So how long have you known my daughter, Logan? Oh, and call me Harmony," Mariah's mom says after everyone's loaded their plates with food. I never even realized I'm hungry but even if I wasn't, I am now. In fact, I'm starving.
"I've known Mariah three years, Mrs... Harmony."
"Where'd you guys meet?" Emily asks.
"At a cocktail networking event sponsored by some local business," Mariah replies. "I was there to promote the shop."
"And my brother and I were representing our repair shop, Garrison Motors."
"Repair shop, eh?" Mr Peters' eyes narrow. "You, by any chance know anything about classic cars. Trucks, maybe?"
"I may be handy with a hammer but not when it comes to engines," Forrest says before turning to Summer to see if she needs anything.
"They all need engines to run, sir."
He smiles. "Hope you don't mind me picking your brain tomorrow, Logan."
"Definitely not."
"It's about time we have a blue collar son-in-law around here," Mr. Peters says, grinning. "Can't wait till you see my baby out there."
"There goes Dad," Mariah says, laughing. "Prepare to get dirty then."
"No problem."
"Was it love at first sight?" Harper asks. "I love those kinds of stories. It just makes the romantic in me swoon. I can't wait to fall in love."
"You're too busy looking at your phone to fall in love, honey," Mom says as Harper rolls her eyes. "Who knows? The man for you just might be standing in front of you and you'd never know it unless you looked up from your phone."
"Right now, everyone at the table is taken, Mom," she says, "so there's no problem about me missing my one true love. He's just not here yet. But when he does show up, I'll know because it'll be a knock-your-socks-off type of falling in love."
"Those are pretty high expectations, Harper," Brad says.
"A girl ca
n dream, can't she?" Harper says before turning to me. "Was it like that for you, Logan? Did my sister knock your socks off?"
I can see Mariah's eyes widen as she stares at me but I keep cool and nod. "Yes, she did."
Harper giggles. "Ooh, tell us more."
"What made it love at first sight for you, Logan?" Emily asks as Mariah's face turns crimson. "I've always been intrigued over how men fall in love."
"Why don't you just ask me?" Brad asks, looking offended.
"Because you go all biology major on me, Professor Talbot," she replies. "I don't want to know about endorphins or serotonin levels. I want to know about the butterflies and the googly eyes."
"You could have just said so," Brad says, looking more offended than he did earlier although from the way he's grinning at his wife, he's clearly not. "Although I don't do the googly eyes. They're creepy." He bats his eyes at her until she blushes.
"Stop it, Brad," she says, laughing.
"Guys, that's a bit personal, isn't it?" Mariah says. "I'm sure Logan doesn't want to go into details–"
"It was her smile," I begin as everyone at the table become silent, "and that dimple on her right cheek. And of course, her eyes and then there's her laugh. It makes the world just feel brighter and lighter whenever I hear it."
Harper sighs heavily after a few moments. "That was... that was just beautiful."
"Three years, though," Emily says almost to herself before she looks at Mariah, her eyes narrowing. "How come you never mentioned him last year, Mariah? Or the year before? In fact, you never even told us you were seeing anyone."
"Because I didn't ask her out until six months ago. Up until that moment, we were just friends. Business friends." My reply comes a little too fast but I don't care. I can almost feel Mariah's panic flow right through me as she grasps my hand in a death grip under the table.
"And... and Logan asked me to marry him two weeks ago," Mariah continues.
"And she said yes," I add as Mariah shows off her ring that I unfortunately didn't pick out. But as the tiny diamond catches the light, I'm glad she's got great taste.
