Faking Christmas(32)

I reached out and touched her arm. “Chlo, it’s fine. I feel like I’ve got a mom card now.”

Chloe breathed out a tiny laugh.

“How’s Ivy?” I asked.

“I’m wondering if it was the hot dog she ate when we got home from the lodge.”

My nose wrinkled. “Most likely.”

Chloe looked like she was about ready to keel over with exhaustion.

“How are you feeling?”

“The nausea goes away when I’m sleeping, so that’s always a plus.”

I breathed out a soft laugh. “Go get some sleep. Everything’s fine out here. I promise.”

“Okay, I’ll keep the door open.”

“Good night.”





According to Chloe, children throw up whenever and wherever they please, no rhyme or reason to it. They wake up in the middle of the night, find their target, explode, and then sleep easily. I peered at Ivy warily as she inhaled the scrambled eggs Chloe set before her, as though she hadn’t emptied her insides all over me the night before.

She burped before catching my gaze and throwing me a cheeky grin. I playfully glared at her for a long moment until my smile betrayed me.

Chloe sighed and sat down on a seat next to me at the table. “Ben and I talked, and we’re going to switch you beds for the rest of the week. You should totally get your own room. If I’d know my kid would suddenly turn into a crazy puking, bed-stealer, I would have just started off with us out there.”

I stared at my sister just then. The way she was hunched over, holding her stomach like she was one step away from throwing up herself. Padding around in her slippers and oversized shirt and joggers. The bags under her eyes. I was the one who felt like an intruder. I could always stay with my mom and Russ, but…no. I knew what I had to do. And I was not looking forward to crawling to Miles with my tail between my legs, believe me. Or even worse, pretending to date him. But, even more than that, I didn’t want to force my sick, miserable pregnant sister onto the world’s most uncomfortable pull-out couch.

“Actually, I think Miles has a cabin he can let me stay in.”

Chloe’s eyes flashed my way in surprise. “His cabin?”

“No. It’s empty. The gas fireplace is broken, so they couldn’t rent it out.”

“Won’t you freeze?”

“Apparently, this cabin was one of the originals. The wood-burning fireplace is still there, but they added a gas fireplace for ease. So, there’s wood we can chop.”

“You want to know my first thought when I saw him?” Chloe’s eyes were flashing with a bit of the playfulness she’d had the night before at the lodge, which immediately raised my guard.

“Not really,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee.

“He’d make an excellent lumberjack.”

“Okay, simmer down. He’ll probably make me chop it.”

Her gaze turned questioning. “Why?”

Dang it. Any boyfriend worth his salt would probably do the wood chopping for his woman. I decided to appeal to Chloe’s feministic side. “He’s a big proponent of teaching a man to fish—or in this case, a woman to chop wood.”

“You tell him that if he doesn’t chop your wood, I’m going to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine.”

Oh, right, I forgot. Chloe only had a feminist side after she watched any movie set around 1800’s England.

“Well…do what you’ve got to do.”

She sputtered out a laugh. “He’s hot, I’ll give you that.”

I straightened in my seat. “Thank you?”

“And I can tell he likes you.”

I suddenly felt like a mouse trapped by a playful cat. Maybe Miles was a better actor than I thought.

“I missed the surprise. Were you freaking out when you saw him?”

“Yup. Definitely freaking out.”

Her smile took on a pained look. “All right, I want to hear more, but I’m gonna go lie back down for a while. Ben said he’d take the kids to look at the animals this morning while I took a nap.”

“Good. Sleep well.” I stood from the table, taking one last sip of coffee for fortification. “I’ve got to go see a man about a cabin.”





Though my sister seemed sad about the idea of me changing cabins, I could tell a small part of her tired, pregnant body was relieved to not have to sleep on the pull-out couch. And Ben would probably be excited to walk around in his underwear.

I spotted Miles out chopping wood behind the barn. Of course he would be chopping wood. My steps slowed significantly as I drew closer, watching his tall, lean body bend over to place a log carefully on the stump, lift the ax, and swing. I jumped, hearing the abrupt thunk as his muscles tore through the log like it was a twig. It was too much. Really. All of Chloe’s lumberjack jokes, and here I was, about to beg one to be my fake boyfriend. Again.

When I was a few yards from him, he stopped and stood tall, stretching his back. Though he was covered up to ward off the chill, my eyes couldn’t help but admire the way the old pair of Levis snugly fit his frame. Turning, he spotted me almost upon him and smiled.

My breath caught. That smile was unexpected. It seemed genuine and didn’t look like he was about to tease me or— “Morning, Celery Stick.”