by Liz Durano
As everyone shows off the presents they received, I hand Logan a small gift bag containing what I'd chosen from the gift shop.
"This one's for you."
He looks at me surprised, as he accepts it. As he unwraps it, I want nothing more than to kiss him on the cheek, nuzzling my face against his beard. He holds up his present, a braided leather bracelet with a platinum washer stamped with the word Strength along the middle.
"This is perfect, Mariah. Thank you."
"I grew up with the local woman who makes it and Mom carries her stuff in the shop."
"I love it," Logan says as he slips the leather bracelet around his wrist. Simple and understated, it's so different from the gift of cufflinks I'd picked for Cooper that I tucked back into my weekend bag. All of it for show, of course, although giving Logan his gift is not part of the show at all. It takes a strong man to go through this charade.
He reaches for his back pocket and pulls out a velvet pouch. "I got you something for Christmas, too."
I look at him in surprise. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to, Mariah."
I loosen the tie and retrieve a delicate gold necklace. It almost matches my pretend engagement ring. "Logan, it's beautiful. Thank you."
He grins. "Do you like it?"
I turn to look at him again, leaning closer. I want nothing more than to kiss him but I don't. "Like it? I love it. Can you put it on for me?"
"Of course." As he takes the necklace from my hand, I gather my hair and lift it up, his hands brushing the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to prickle along my skin. He leans forward to look at it and smiles. "Perfect."
After opening all the gifts, we all sit at the table for breakfast, leaving the living room a mess of wrapping paper and ribbons while we eat.
Forrest finally joins us as well, without Summer this time. He says she finally got over her fear of lighting the wood stove on her own. When none of us say anything, all of us staring at him (except for Harper who's still smiling her Cheshire Cat smile), he frowns.
"What?"
"What happened to your beard?" Dad asks.
"I shaved it off."
"What happened to your hair?" Mom asks. "It's neat all of a sudden."
"Harper gave me a haircut," he replies before looking at all of us. "Why are you all staring at me like that? Don't you guys like it?"
"Of course we do, son," Dad says. "It's just... just a surprise, that's all."
"You look ten years younger," Emily says.
"What she really means is that she now looks older than you," Brad says before Emily whacks her husband on the arm playfully. And like a spell broken, we all forget all about Forrest's sudden makeover and focus on the food on the table.
After breakfast, my sisters and I get all the dishes washed, dried, and put away, while Brad does his best to tidy up the living room as Jonathan plays with all his new toys. Mom disappears into her office to work on new blends for the coming year and Dad, Forrest, and Logan head out to the garage to work on the truck.
As I stand by the window an hour later watching the men work on the truck, I find myself wishing Logan and I were really engaged. That would mean I'd be looking at the real thing, Dad and Forrest chatting away with a future member of the family. Too bad it's all an act.
I sigh, pushing the thought away. I can't break that bubble now, not when my family loves him. And for Dad to proudly show off his classic red truck to Logan speaks volumes. He didn't even do that with Elliot who had no interest in old things, his attention only on the newest models. And while Forrest is a whiz when it comes to fixing things around the lodge, my brother drew the line with engines.
"They're getting along great," Emily says as she stands beside me, watching the men in the garage. "So when's the wedding date?"
My heart skips a beat. "I... I haven't decided yet."
"You haven't decided yet? You're a florist, Mariah. I remember with Elliot, you had everything arranged eight months in advance."
"And look what happened, Em," I say through gritted teeth. "Mom and Dad were on the hook for most of those arrangements, from the reception to the flowers to... everything. They lost thousands of dollars in deposits alone and they refuse to take any payment from me."
"I'm sorry, Mariah. That was rude of me to bring him up," she says quietly. "But you know what? This is probably the most you've spoken about it. You just... you just disappeared into your shop and you refused to talk about it with us. At least, to get it out of your system."
"Well, it is out of my system," I say. "I'm engaged, aren't I?"
She nods. "You know, when Mom first told me that you were engaged, I thought you honestly hired someone to pretend to be your fiancé. There was a movie about it years ago. A rom-com."
I feel my face turn pale. Are we that obvious?
"But then, here you are with Logan and you're wearing his ring and you two look... well, you guys look too madly in love for it to be fake."
I stare at her. "We do?"
She laughs. "Yes, silly, you do. In your own inimitable stoic Mariah way, you're in love. And I'm really happy for you. I really am. It's a good F-U to that guy next door and his... his whatever."
"His wife."
"I'm actually glad Elliot and Minerva showed their true colors when they did," Emily says, "because if he didn't, then you wouldn't have found Logan."
I chuckle, hoping my nervousness doesn't show. "Guess not."
"He's crazy about you, you know," she says. "I've seen the way he looks at you."
I feel myself blushing. "How does he look at me?"
Emily smiles. "Like you're Christmas, New Year, and Valentine's Day all rolled into one."
We're going through pictures on Harper's phone when we hear the sound of an engine warming up and Forrest and my dad's excited yells from the garage. We run toward the window to see Dad sitting behind the wheel while Forrest stands along the side, his hands on his hips. Logan is standing by the hood, checking on something.
"He got the engine running?" Mom asks excitedly as she emerges from her office.
"Looks like it," Emily says. "Guess you and Dad will be taking your little baby for a ride next."
"Oh, not just rides, honey," Mom says, laughing. "You don't want to know all the fun we had in that truck."
My sisters and I bring our hands to our ears as Mom starts counting the things they did in the front seat, laughing the whole time. My mom has never gotten rid of her hippie ways and while it used to embarrass us when we were kids, these days, we laugh it off but not before covering our ears.
"You guys need to have more fun," she says after a few moments, shaking her head in disappointment. "Let me go out there and check on your dad."
A few minutes later, Logan steps through the door looking just like the Logan I used to see at their shop, a bit grimy from working on engines but with a huge grin on his face. "Sorry it took a while."
"You've made Dad so happy," I say above the sound of an engine revving up.
"I'm going to take a quick shower upstairs and we can hang out and do whatever you want," he says as I give him a quick kiss on the cheek before he makes it up the stairs and into the bedroom while Emily and Harper hoot their approval.
"He fixed the truck, honey," Dad announces the moment he steps inside the house with Mom right next to him. "What a Christmas present, eh?"
"Does that mean you approve of your soon-to-be son-in-law?" Mom asks and he nods.
"Approve? Of course!" he replies laughing before turning to look at me. "Now when's the wedding?"
"You didn't spring twenty questions on him, did you, Dad?" I ask, my panic building.
"Of course, I did, honey. It's what I do," he replies, grinning as I stare at him horror. "Ah, just kidding, Mariah. You're both adults, and you're both old enough to make a huge decision on your own. He asked you to marry him, you said yes, and that's good enough for me."
"So when's the wedding?" Mom asks.
"I... I honestly have no i
dea," I reply. "He's got a shop and I've got a shop and we're both busy–"
"You better not elope," Harper says. "Because I need to be your bridesmaid. Or your maid of honor. And I can help get you the best deals on everything."
Emily laughs. "Be careful, Mariah. That probably means she gets the rights to all the pictures and videos so she can post it on her social media."
"Just one. Or maybe two," Harper says. "Better yet, make it a destination wedding. That way, I can write the whole thing off."
"Why does it have to be a destination wedding?" Mom suddenly asks. "Why not do it right here? I've always dreamed my daughters would get married right here at the Soraya. It's perfect for such an event, don't you think?"
My throat tightens as Mom wraps her arms around my waist. "I know it's too rustic for your taste, Mariah, but why don't you and Logan think about it? No pressure at all."
11
Logan
Except for Harper who appears to be in the middle of a live stream, the living room is empty when I come down the stairs.
"Where'd everyone go?"
"Hang on, guys," she says to the camera before turning to face me. "Everyone cleared out the moment Mom said something about you guys getting married here."
My mouth turns dry. "She said what?"
"That you guys get married here, at the Lodge. It'd be perfect, don't you think?" When I don't answer, she continues, "Anyway, Mom and Dad went for a drive so don't go far in case it breaks down along the way. Emily and Brad went into their room for a nap with Jonathan and I'll be heading into town soon"
"Where's Mariah?"
"Oh, that's right! She's outside, probably hyperventilating after what Mom said," Harper says, turning her attention to the camera again. "By the way, I want you guys to meet my future brother-in-law, Logan Cooper Garrison. He's, like, the other half of the GarrisonBros, guys! Can you believe it? Small world, huh? And he's marrying my sister! I can't wait!"
I'd have reminded her not to broadcast the engagement but it's too late for that. I'm also too stunned to do or say anything else. All I can think of is the wedding. Here. At the Lodge.
Hell, but if we weren't in trouble before, we sure are now.
As Harper continues talking about our social media account, I wave goodbye, grab my coat from behind the door and step outside. Mariah is sitting stiffly on the bench, her coat wrapped around her as she taps her boot nervously on the floor.
"We've got a problem," she says as I close the door behind me.
"I heard."
"Mom wants us to get married here. I had to get away from everyone because I'd have had a full-on anxiety attack if I stayed in there any longer. But I couldn't go far because I didn't want you to think I just bailed on you, you know?" She sighs. "What am I supposed to tell her? She looked so... so happy."
"Why don't we take a walk?" I take her hand and lead her away from the house. I don't know what to tell her. All I know is that tomorrow, we head back home but things won't be back to normal between us. What is normal anyway? I've always liked Mariah. Hell, I liked her the moment I first met her at that networking event three years ago. I never asked her out because she was engaged then and after she stopped wearing the ring, I didn't want to ruin what we had—a friendship. I dated, I saw other women and I know she dated, too. But I'd told myself then that our friendship would come first... until now.
I spot a trail and keep walking. "By the way, not to make things worse but Harper just told her followers we're engaged."
"Great." Mariah's brow furrows. "Things just got worse, didn't they?"
My phone buzzes from inside my jeans pocket and I see Liam's name on the display but ignore it. A few minutes later, it buzzes again and this time I see his text message.
You're engaged?????
"Yeah, they just did. Liam heard the news, too." I put my phone on Silent and slip it back into my jeans pocket. I can talk to Liam later. Right now, my priority is Mariah.
"What are we going to do, Logan? I can't believe I dragged you into this mess."
"First of all, you didn't drag me into anything," I say. "It was my idea to come here with you and pretend to be your fiancé."
"But you wouldn't have done it if I hadn't come up with the stupid idea in the first place."
I stop walking and look into Mariah's panicked blue eyes. "It's not your fault, Mariah, okay? Take a deep breath."
She does as I tell her, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. She's shaking and how I wish I could hold her and tell her that everything will be okay, that things will work themselves out. But I also understand how she's feeling because I'm feeling it too—guilt over the knowledge that we're living a lie.
How on earth could I have thought pretending to be her fiancé would be a piece of cake? How could I have been so wrong?
But as much as I want nothing more than to fix things, I can't. Not right this minute. "It'll be all right, Mariah. Stay with me, okay? One more day and then we head back."
She takes a deep breath. "You're right. One more day."
"We leave tomorrow, right? We can leave first thing in the morning and then you can announce that we broke up. I got cold feet, whatever you want to say."
She sighs. "I just wish I didn't have to pull this on them. Making them believe that I found the one for me and then break the news that we split up. They like you. They really like you, Logan."
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. I want to go off-script so bad and tell her that I want something real between us, but I also know I can't. I volunteered for this and I need to follow through. "Why don't you show me around the property?"
We spend the next hour walking around the property, Mariah's mood slowly lifting as she points out the places where she, her sisters, and her brother used to play. I love watching her mood slowly lift as she talks about the lodge, proud of what her parents have accomplished.
The walk is just what we need and before long, we're smiling as we explore the trail ahead of us. We're taking in the sights and the smells and just being present. It almost feels like we're back to the way we were—as friends—even though there's another layer over that dynamic, one that may or may not go away. In fact, it could very well destroy the friendship. But I don't want to think of that possibility, not right now.
We stop at an area where a dozen A-frame structures stick out from the ground, their roofs dotted with snow that fell overnight.
"This is one of the old features of the property," she says. Each cabin comes with two single beds, desks, shelves, and a wood stove. It's popular with small groups, usually nature workshops although we get a lot of millennials renting them, too, couples who want to be closer to the outdoors."
Mariah makes her way up the steps to one of the A-frame cabins and unlocks the door. "Mom and Dad had us name each of the cabins and I called this one Cercis, for Cercis Occidentalis." She points to the wood-burned sign next to the door that bears the name.
"What is it?"
"It's a native flowering shrub with shiny heart-shaped leaves and pretty showy flowers. Usually pink or magenta."
Stomping my boots on the doormat, I follow her inside. From the front door, each side of the cabin has a built-in desk followed by a row of shelves and a twin-sized bed at the opposite end. Dry firewood is stacked at the bottom of one of the shelves along with a pile of newspapers. Two framed sketches of flowers hang next to the door, both of them signed MP. Mariah Peters.
"You did this? It's beautiful."
"Thanks. Mom and Dad thought I'd be an artist when I grew up because of those drawings. Turns out, it lasted only one summer. My art manifested itself through floral arrangements." Mariah draws open the curtains along the far wall behind a small wood stove that stands in the middle of the two beds, set up on a platform of bricks.
I look through a collection of old paperbacks on one of the shelves, a smattering of botany, plant identification textbooks, and romance and thriller paperbacks.
"Peopl
e often leave books behind for the next occupant," she says as she stands next to me.
"I would never have pinned you for a country girl. Not exactly a city girl but not country either."
She grins. "I clean up well."
"You're perfect just the way you are, Mariah."
She blushes and looks away before rubbing her arms to ward off the chill. I barely even noticed that the cabin is freezing cold, all my attention on how beautiful Mariah is, inside and out, and just how wounded she seems at times. Maybe coming home even with a fake fiancé in tow wasn't such a good idea after all. But with every passing second, I'm still falling harder for her and I can't stop myself.
"Want to head back to the house?"
Mariah shakes her head. "Would you mind if we stayed here awhile?"
I take a step toward her. "You're cold."
"We can start a fire."
"I'm afraid we started one before now, but you're right. We should."
"A real fire."
I nod. "Yes. A real one."
The air between us feels like it's charged with something we've never spoken out loud since the charade began. Between stolen glances and not-so-accidental brushes of her hand against mine or mine against hers, it's there and it's unmistakable. I want so much to kiss her, and not because someone is watching us or that we're pretending. I'm way past that now and I'm willing to lay everything out on the table.
"My parents designated this one as our playhouse when we were younger," she begins nervously, as if needing words to fill the silence between us. "We used to hold tea parties in here with our dolls and the fully furnished doll houses my dad built us until one day, we all outgrew them and moved away."
"And now you're back." I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear.
"Only I don't want to pretend anymore." Mariah bites her lower lip as she rests her hand on my chest. "Definitely not right now."
I take a step closer. "I don't want to either."
"I want everything on the table for us right now, Logan," she whispers. "But only if it's real."
