Faking Christmas(67)

Even though this particular man had proven himself to be much sweeter and more endearing than the last guy. And funny. And strangely insightful. And romantic.

Still a pain, though.

“Did you know your eyes do this sparkle thing when you laugh?”

“What?”

“Yup. I never noticed it until we came here.”

I folded my arms, squirming under his scrutiny. His eyes roamed all over my face.

“You smile a lot at school, but it always stops right here.” I stilled as he reached out his index finger and thumb toward my mouth, pressing the corners of it gently.

I stilled at the contact. He removed his hand and took a step back, though his eyes continued to hold mine.

“It always used to make me so mad to see you pretend so much. You’d smile, and take on extra jobs, and wash dishes, and get taken advantage of by everyone because, for some reason, you thought you needed to. And you’d be smiling the whole time, but it would never hit your eyes. But in the past few days, I’ve heard your laugh, and I’ve seen your smile—your real smile…” He broke off, shaking his head. “That’s not something a guy can just unsee. It’s a craving now, trying to make you laugh, or smile, or even get mad at me.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. My natural instinct was to deny it all, but I couldn’t remember a time when I had felt so seen by someone. With so little effort, he had brought my hidden parts and pieces into full view between us. He had put words about me into existence that I hadn’t fully realized about myself.

He took a step closer and put his hands on my cheeks, leaning down to meet my gaze. His eyes were so sweet and gentle and made me want to nuzzle into them. “So, I’m going to ask you one more time, Olive Wilson. Will you please come riding with me?”

Old habits died hard. Though my heart was suddenly wanting to burst free with sunbeams lighting the whole gray sky, I bit my lip to rein it in.

Miles growled lowly, and the dam broke away. I couldn’t hold it back any longer if I had a hammer and nails. With a sudden laugh and a wide smile, I beamed in his direction. He grinned broadly, matching my emotion, and slowly pulled me in for a long, delicious hug.





“Do you want to try driving?” Miles shouted, turning his face to the right so I could hear over the roar of the motor.

“No, thanks.” I looked again at the dark clouds above us. Snow had been falling on us for a while, but it was coming down faster. The wind was picking up, pelting our faces with snow. “Should we head back? The clouds are looking dark.”

He looked up. “I thought it was supposed to just blow over.”

I glanced around, looking for a break in the clouds, but found nothing–just darkness casting a gray pall across the entire valley. We had been driving for at least an hour, me tucked behind him, my arms squeezing his waist. At first, Miles drove me around the outskirts of Montpelier, pointing out more landmarks and taking me past his high school and beautiful churches before taking a trail up a mountain. Soon after, we were in the woods, driving past houses and creeks meandering beneath the trees, until we reached a large field that seemed to spread out for miles. Snowmobile tracks covered the ground, but nobody was out except for us.

The snowmobile stalled while we stared out at the expanse of field. Miles revved the engine and looked back at me. “One last good run, and then we’ll head back?”

My eyes widened as I peered over his shoulder. “Across that? How do you know it’s safe?” Before now, we’d been riding roads and trails. This was a wide-open field in the middle of the mountains. There could be a cliff at the end, and we’d never know until we were plummeting over the side.

“This is my old biology teacher’s hay field. I helped him haul hay on it one summer. It’s just an old boring field.” He pointed at the snow. “See the tracks? It’s a popular spot for snowmobiling in the winter.”

“What’s past the field?” I asked warily, tucking my hands inside his pockets.

“There’s a small drop, but I’ll turn us around before we even get close to that.”

“How will you know when we’re close? It’s all just one big snow patch to me.”

“I’ll know. You up for it, Adventure Girl?”

I squeezed my arms around his waist a little tighter. I was cold and a bit frightened about going off the trail but decided to trust Miles. “Do what you must,” I told him before tucking my head against his back.

“You’ve got to look.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll miss the best part.”

“What part is that?”

“The feeling of flying.”

My initial instinct was to say no. I always said no. But for some reason, I didn’t want to disappoint Miles. I lifted my head. “Ten seconds.”

“Thirty.”

“Eleven seconds.”

He laughed. “Twenty.”

“Twelve.”

“Fifteen.”

“Ugh. Deal.”

Miles gunned the engine, and the machine took off. Snow pelted against my face. My watery eyes wanted to shut, but I forced them to stay open. The wind snatched my new beanie off my head and carried it away before I could stop it. My hair flapped behind me, whipping every which way as we flew across the field. I inhaled a deep breath of crisp mountain air tinged with snowfall and pine and felt like laughing again. Had I really wanted to go back home and read a book? Hide away? I was still in awe of how fast we were going, but with Miles, I wasn’t afraid. When my fifteen seconds were up, I continued to fly.