Faking Christmas(31)
“Last I checked, the mice were tame. Just leave some cheese out every now and then, and they won’t cause any issues.”
“Miles.” I shot him a warning look.
He laughed. “No mice. It’s on a trail behind the lodge. It was one of the original cabins before they built all of these.” He motioned to the small subdivision around us.
“Do people still use it?” I had sudden visions of furniture draped in white sheets and cobwebs everywhere.
“Yeah. When the fireplace is working.” When I said nothing else, he continued. “What’s your hold up? Wasn’t this your plan?”
That I could answer. “My hold up is that you were never supposed to be here. It was just a name to scare people off. Not real.”
He shrugged. “It’s still not real, though, right?”
I bit my lip. It felt real when there was a warm body to suddenly go with the name.
“Can I think about it tonight? And let you know tomorrow?”
He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “You can, but I can’t guarantee the offer will be the same tomorrow. That gives me a whole lot of time to think. You might want to snag this deal while you have it.”
What else could he possibly add to this crazy scheme? “I’ll take my chances.”
I should have been nervous when he just grinned bigger and shrugged at my statement, but I was feeling too rattled to overthink things.
Turning to walk back up the porch steps, I said, “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams, Carrots.”
“Don’t Anne of Green Gables me,” I hissed. A low chuckle met my ears before I closed the cabin door.
TEN
“I’ll be back.”
The Terminator
Saying no was a good idea. I didn’t want to get involved with Miles Taylor, even if it was strictly fake. I certainly wasn’t nervous about my feelings getting confused, but I also read and taught books for a living. I knew what happened in every fake-dating storyline. Lots of unnecessary touching and confusion and somebody professing love and real feelings. Not on my watch.
From our brief interaction tonight, we had already kissed once on the lips (although I used the term kiss very loosely), along with a cheek kiss and a kiss on my temple. Which was too much kissing for two people who didn’t like each other. Saying no was responsible. It was me taking charge of my life and not allowing Miles to tempt me into something so clearly absurd. It was me making things right with my sister and my mom. Though, I did begin to suspect that my acting skills from earlier still hadn’t completely won either of them over. That’s it. I was going to say no.
Unfortunately, my plan to be the bigger and better person went completely out the window at 2:30 that morning.
After determining I would turn down Miles’s offer, I attempted to read on my Kindle with all the clueless naiveté of a woman unused to sleeping with children in an unfamiliar environment. I had just drifted off to sleep when Ivy began moaning and rolling around in her sleeping bag. Not wanting her to steamroll her sister and wake her up too, I crept over to her and tried several times to get her to curl up on her side of the makeshift bed. Half an hour later, after listening to all the whimpers and moans I could handle, I finally picked her up and carried her into bed with me.
Like a cat, she snuggled up against me, whimpering softly in her sleep. I just embraced the fact that I would be a zombie tomorrow and pulled her close. The response was immediate, her little arm going around me and her hot breath puffing against my neck while her body splayed out across mine. But it was all so sweet, and I let myself relish the feel of those little arms for the moment.
Without warning, hot smelly vomit began erupting from her tiny mouth all down my neck and the front of my pajamas. I sat up, gasping in shock, cringing at the feel of the warm sludge sliding farther down my body. Instantly, my body fought against the smell by dry heaving. I tried to pull it together for Ivy and began breathing through my mouth to keep down my own puke.
“Ivy, are you okay?”
Her retching had finally stopped, but her little head hung limply across my shoulder. She sniffled but gave me nothing else to go on.
“Does your tummy still hurt?”
She shook her head.
Okay. How do I handle this? Do I stand up and get it all over the house walking to the bathroom? Luckily, Chloe’s mom ears had clued in, and the door to their room opened. A few moments later, Ivy was extracted from my arms, and I heard the bathtub running. I lay there for the next few moments in my niece’s puke before the bathroom door opened and Chloe handed me a towel to wrap around myself.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as I made my way into the bathroom for a quick shower.
“It’s fine,” I said. When the door closed, I ran to the toilet, dry heaving for several long, uncomfortable moments.
After a quick shower, I made my way back into the front room. Chloe had just laid Ivy back down in her sleeping bag on the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again as I crawled back into a bed now covered in blankets.
“It’s okay, I promise.”
“I stripped the bed, but I couldn’t find any more sheets in any of the drawers. I just put a few blankets over top. I really am so sorry.” Chloe’s hands flew to cover her face.