by Tawna Fenske
I don’t know if I mean facing her ex-crush or facing her sister’s giddy relationship joy, so I leave it to her to fill in the blanks.
“I am.” She gives a self-conscious laugh. “I guess we’ve made it a little easier to pretend we’re having a fling.”
The edges of her voice tilt upward like she’s asking a question. I glance over and see her nibbling a corner of her lip.
“Pretend,” I say slowly. “Is that what we’re still doing?”
“I don’t know,” she says softly. “Is that what you’re doing?”
This version of Val is a far cry from the one in the woods a few minutes ago. She’s tentative and nervous, fiddling with the hem of her shorts like she’s going to unravel the seam.
She catches me watching her and straightens. “Actually, no.” She clears her throat, brown eyes flashing with some of that fire I saw back in the creek. “It’s not what I’m doing. I like you, Josh. I like you a lot, and I’m not pretending anymore.”
Her words fill my chest one by one like warm fireballs bursting through my core. “That was awesome,” I say when I see her smile start to wobble. “Putting that out there without knowing what I’m thinking.”
“What are you thinking?” she demands, fully embracing her bravery. “Are you still pretending?”
“Hell, no.” I drop my hand to hers again. “Not even close.”
“Yeah?” Her smile lights up the whole cab of the truck.
“I’m nuts about you,” I tell her. “I don’t know how it happened, but I’m guessing the fact that you’re amazing has something to do with it.”
She grins wider. “You’re pretty amazing yourself, Josh Mattis.”
“So we’re having a real fling.” I grin like a doofus, liking the sound of those words. “A real, honest to goodness fling.”
“Guess so.” Val tucks a shock of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad. I wasn’t exactly trusting my ability to fake it.”
“On behalf of the entire male gender, let me say that’s good news.”
She laughs, looking more relaxed than she has since we got dressed and sprinted back to my truck with Vanessa’s voice echoing between us long after Val hung up the phone. Hearing it again after all this time should have sparked something in me. Nostalgia or anger or fondness, at least.
But all I felt was a strong urge to toss the phone in the creek and have my hands on Valerie again. If we hadn’t had a long process ahead of us shaking the ants out of our clothes, we maybe could have done it.
But no, she deserves better than a bug-covered hookup in the forest. She deserves the best I can possibly offer, and even that’s not good enough.
I turn off the resort’s paved driveway and onto the private road that leads to the small cluster of cabins where the Bracelyn siblings live. Bree dropped Valerie at the reindeer ranch earlier, so it’s the first time I’m getting a look at where Val’s staying.
“Right here.” Val points to a tidy cabin with flower boxes on the windows. “It was Bree’s place before she moved out to Austin’s. Vanessa and I are sharing.”
“And Raleigh.” I watch her face for a reaction, but there isn’t one. “Have you guys all stayed under one roof before?”
She shakes her head. “He stays with Vanessa a lot, but we have our own places, so—” She shrugs. “It’ll be fine, though. Even if they’re having head-banging sex into the wee hours of the morning.”
I laugh, impressed she went there. “Let me know if you need me to grope you publicly to make up for their obnoxious displays of affection.”
She laughs and unclips her seatbelt, sliding across the seat to get to me. “I may take you up on that.”
Her lips find mine, and she kisses me with all the fierceness and urgency she had back in the juniper forest. I tunnel my hands into her hair and wonder if I could pull her onto my lap right here in front of all the cabins.
“Val!”
We jerk apart like teenagers and turn to see Vanessa flying through the front door. Her red and green sundress flutters behind her as she hurries toward the truck.
I look back at Val and smile. “That’s twice in thirty minutes we’ve been cockblocked by your sister.”
“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” She plants one more kiss on my mouth. “Guess it’s showtime.”
“Guess so.” I slip my hands out of her hair and reach down to unclip my own seatbelt. I might need a second for this throbbing behind my fly to subside.
Val paints on a bright smile that’s not fake at all, so she must mean it. “Nessie!” She pushes open the truck door and slides out, then hurries up the walkway like it’s been years instead of days since they’ve seen each other. “I can’t believe you’re already here.”
I hop out of the cab and shut the door as Vanessa squeezes Val and does one of those back-and-forth rocking things women like to do when they hug. “I wanted to surprise you,” she’s saying. “I didn’t realize you’d be occupied.”
Vanessa gives me a tentative smile over her sister’s shoulder and draws back. “Josh,” she says. “If it was anyone else, I’d have strapped you to a chair by now for the interrogation to find out if you’re good enough for my sister. But it’s you, so I know she’s in good hands.”
Well, hell. Any lingering anger I might have had dissolves into a big, sooty puddle at my feet. Faced with the girl I thought I loved six years ago, all I feel is a tepid sort of fondness that’s more like friendship than anything else.
“Vanessa.” I smile and quirk one eyebrow. “Or is it Gabrielle?”
She doesn’t flush the way Val might, but she does cover her face with her hands. “I am so so sorry. I’m such an asshole.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I reach out and pry her hands off her face, feeling none of that electric crackle that happens when I touch Val. “It’s all water under the bridge. Seriously, no big deal.”
“You’re not mad?” The relief on her face is palpable. “For years I thought about how to apologize for all of it. The fake name and the ghosting and all that.”
She lets that hang there between us, an unspoken bubble of our history. Is she remembering the plans we made, all our silly, juvenile talk of travel and marriage and fate?
“Totally over it.”
I’m looking at Vanessa, but my words are meant for Val. From the corner of my eye, I see her smile and tuck her hair behind one ear.
The gesture catches Vanessa’s eye, and she turns to pluck a sticky juniper twig from Val’s hair. “Hmm.” Vanessa holds it up with a knowing grin. “Between this and what I interrupted in the truck a minute ago, I’d say the two of you have gotten well-acquainted.”
The flush that runs up Val’s throat and into her face is like a billboard advertising what we’ve been up to. “Josh was, uh—showing me around.”
Vanessa grins wider and looks back at me. “I’m guessing that’s not all he was showing you.”
Val’s expression morphs to something between mortification and delight. Reaching over to catch her hand, I lace my fingers through hers. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“No, but she does.” Vanessa grins and nudges Val with her elbow. “Baby sister is an open book.”
“Guilty as charged.” Val throws me an apologetic look that’s not all that apologetic. “Sorry. Your virtue’s not safe with either of the Vincent girls.”
“I figured as much.”
“Vanessa!”
The male voice shouting through the open cabin door must be Raleigh, and from the melty look on Vanessa’s face, she’s delighted to be summoned.
“Coming!” She grabs Val’s hand and starts towing her toward the cabin. “Come on. Sean’s bringing over a bunch of baking supplies, so we’re getting the kitchen ready.”
Val frowns. “You just got here. What are you baking?”
“Didn’t you hear about the Christmas cookie swap tonight?” she asks. “It’s sort of a mix and mingle thing for wedding guests arriving early.”
Val
picks another bit of juniper from her hair as she trudges up the walk. “Bree said the cookie thing is optional?”
Vanessa just laughs. “Well, yeah, but who wouldn’t want to go to a Christmas cookie party in July?”
I lag behind as they chatter about spritz cookies and gingerbread men and whether hot chocolate peppermint bars count as cookies or brownies. It’s cool seeing the sisters together like this, watching the interplay between them. I’m a little astounded I ever mistook Val for Vanessa. They couldn’t be more different.
“Cookie ingredients, coming through!”
I turn to see Sean Bracelyn moving up the walkway with a big box in his arms. He’s a Michelin starred chef and the brains behind the legendary Juniper restaurant here at the resort, but apparently he’s been relegated to delivery boy.
“Hey, man.” I stretch out both hands. “Want me to take that?”
“That’d be great.” He transfers the box to my arms. “I’ve got a few more stops to make.”
“Hey, cuz!” Vanessa launches herself at Sean, hugging him tight. “Haven’t seen you for years.”
Sean hugs back and nods at me over her shoulder. “I love when they make it easier for me.” He releases her and waves from one sister to the other. “If you’d made me guess which one of you I had dinner with the other night, I’d have been screwed.”
Vanessa laughs and nudges Val. “Remember at that family reunion when we spent the whole time pretending to be each other?”
Valerie rolls her eyes. “It worked until he got smart and brought us blackberry cobbler and I broke out in hives trying to play along.”
I glance between the twins without the tiniest bit of trouble telling them apart. It’s not the clothing, either. It’s the way Val holds herself straighter, like she’s cataloguing every tiny detail, gauging everyone’s well-being. It’s the way her smile fills with warmth and openness, the tiny splotch of pink that rises in her cheeks when she catches me watching her.
You’re beautiful, I mouth, making her blush deeper.
“Gotta go,” Sean says, stepping back and turning toward the cabin he shares with his wife, Amber. He points at me. “See you at the bachelor party snowshoe thing?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
He laughs. “I hope not, since you’re running the show.”
As Sean jogs away, I turn to follow the sisters into the house. I’ve almost forgotten about Raleigh until we reach the kitchen and I spot a tall, ruddy-faced blond guy standing at the counter. He’s twisting the cork out of a bottle of wine, but glances up as we file into the room.
“Greetings.” The cork slips out with a pop, and he reaches into a cupboard to pull out wine glasses. “Just in time for a little pre-funk wine tasting. You like Pinot Noir, right, Val?”
Valerie nods and tucks some hair behind her ear. “That sounds good. Raleigh, I’d like you to meet Josh.” She steps aside as I set the box of cookie supplies on the counter and dust my hands on my shorts. “Josh, meet Raleigh.”
“Hey, man.” Raleigh grabs my hand in one of those too-tight grips that are the trademark of guys who are either way too friendly or compensating for something. It’s too soon to tell which.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says.
“Oh?” I glance at Val, who gives an infinitesimal shrug.
“Nah, Vanessa.” Raleigh finishes pouring the wine and offers a glass to each of the ladies before handing me one. I take it to be polite. “She told me about the two of you,” Raleigh continues. “It’s cool, man—no need for things to be weird, right?”
“Right.” Any weirdness I’m feeling has nothing to do with Vanessa. It’s the vibe I’m getting from Raleigh.
I’m probably just being a dick. Some macho bullshit about Val having the hots for him, even though I’m not getting that sense now. It’s the opposite, really. She’s at ease in a way she wouldn’t be if she were still head over heels for the big blonde dude who just chugged his glass of wine like it’s grape juice.
Val catches me looking at her and smiles. “The wine’s good,” she says. “I’ll take yours if you aren’t in the mood.”
She’s giving me an out, remembering what I said about rarely drinking. My heart swells with gratitude, and I take a small sip just to see what it’s like. “Nice.”
A sip or two is fine, but that’s my limit. When you spend your life feeling dumber than everyone else, you avoid ingesting anything that docks your IQ points. “So you’re making Christmas cookies?”
“We are indeed.” Vanessa pulls a bundle of red and green aprons out of the box Sean delivered. “Are these adorable or what?”
“So adorable.” Val flashes a wry grin and throws me a wink. “If I fall to the floor convulsing with excitement, you know all the adorableness overwhelmed me.”
I set my wineglass on the counter and start poking through the box Sean brought. Leave it to a world-famous chef to think of everything. Sugar, butter, cocoa powder—
“Where’s the flour sifter?” Vanessa calls from the depths of one of the cupboards.
“I’ve been here ten days,” Val says. “You think I’ve done a lot of sifting?”
Vanessa’s back is turned, and Raleigh’s busy refilling his wineglass, so I brush Val’s fingertips with mine. “That’s what the cool kids are calling it now,” I murmur. “Wanna do some sifting?”
That gets Val laughing, earning us a knowing look as Vanessa turns to check the cupboard behind us. Val moves closer, bumping up against me in a way I’m pretty sure is deliberate. Her breast brushes my elbow and she blinks in wide-eyed innocence as she puts a hand on my ass.
“Oh, sorry,” she murmurs, giving my left cheek a squeeze. “Just wanted to knead your dough.”
Half the blood leaves my brain and heads south, and I start to reach for her. Val skips back and grins as Vanessa emerges from the cupboard with a flour sifter in hand.
“Got it!” Vanessa plunks it on the counter between us and straightens up. “Measuring cups and spoons?”
“Those I can find.” Val turns and starts digging through the cupboard beside the fridge. I take a moment to admire the curve of her ass, the wisps of hair floating around her face, the delicate lines of her throat where my lips are aching to go again.
“Yeah, so I think I’ll sit this out.” Raleigh moves past, blocking my view of Val. He jerks a thumb toward the living room. “There’s a Mariners game on. Want to watch?”
“I think I’ll hang out here and help.”
He shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He wanders off toward the living room. A few seconds later, a beer commercial blares from the other room.
I shove back the rising surge of judgment. They’ve just arrived in one of the most beautiful places on earth, teeming with bike paths and hiking trails and endless miles of river. He wants to watch TV?
Okay, yeah…not everyone’s outdoorsy. But even indoors, there are much better views. I glance back at Val, who’s cinching an apron around her waist. She’s laughing as she turns to shove open the windows to let the warm, juniper-laced breeze flow through the kitchen. There’s a jaw-dropping view of the Cascade Mountains framed up like a picture above the dining room table, and I breathe in the comforting scent of fresh hay and the cinnamon Val’s dusting onto a plate. A gentle gust catches her hair, fluttering it around her cheeks as she measures out just the right amount of spice.
“Do you have Grandma’s snickerdoodle recipe on your phone?” Vanessa asks.
“Yeah, it’s right there.” She nods at the small purse on the counter. “Just scroll to my docs and pull up the recipes file.”
“You and that damn phone.” Vanessa digs around in the purse and pulls it out. “You know, normal people make it a little harder to access things. A password or something at least.”
“Yeah, I’ve gotta fix that.” Val flashes a smile at me. “It’s pretty inconvenient answering calls when I don’t mean to.”
I grin and lift my wineglass to her in a silent toast. She smiles bac
k and blows me a kiss. It’s the most natural thing in the world, being with her like this. How did I never know it could be like this? Easy and effortless and yeah, hot as hell.
It’s that sweet spot I’ve been missing my whole life.
Vanessa scrolls through the phone, unaware of the lightning crackling between Val and me. “We need three cups of flour for the snickerdoodles, and four more for the spritzers. Oh, but we’ll need about a cup more to dust the counter with, plus whatever we need for the gingerbread men.”
“Those are my favorite,” Val says. “Do we have enough ingredients?”
“Yeah, but maybe not enough time.” Vanessa smiles at me. “Unless your boy toy wants to make a batch?”
Val smiles at me, gauging my reaction to the “boy toy” comment. I smile back, grateful for anything that keeps me in her orbit. “Yeah, sure. I can sift or stir or something.”
Vanessa grabs a printed page off the corner of the counter and nudges it in front of me. “Could you maybe do this one? We’ll work on the other two.”
I glance down at the page and feel the blood drain from my face. Numbers swim on the paper, dancing around in taunting little circles. There are fractions and measurements, ounces and tablespoons, digits mocking me from a dark sea of—
“We’ll do this one together.” Valerie swipes away the recipe and bumps me with her hip. “Wash up so you can cream the sugar and butter.” She throws me a wink and smiles.
To Vanessa it probably looks like ordinary flirtation, but it’s way more. Val just tossed me a rope, effortlessly drawing me back from the edge of humiliation.
“I’ll cream your sugar and butter anytime.” I glance back down at the recipe page. The numbers might be a blur, but the words I can handle. “Says here we’re supposed to whip the eggs to stiff peaks first.”
“Oooh, yes.” Val flutters her lashes and laughs. “Make ‘em nice and stiff.”
“Yeah?” I nudge the mixing bowl aside, getting closer to Val. “You want me to sift your flour first?”
“I do.” She sidles up beside me, a smudge of flour on her cheek. “Sift it real good. Maybe then I’ll let you lick the spoon.”
