Miles stood on the sidewalk just below the front stairs, wearing a dark-blue coat and his beanie slung low across his forehead. Bits of his flannel shirt poked through the collar. I swallowed.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said. His arms were folded, and he was staring at me with a calculating expression on his face.
The wind bit at my face, but I moved to stand just in front of him. “What’s that?”
“It’s recently come to my attention that you might be crazy about me.”
My fingers clenched. “Not true.”
“I was the first person you thought of when naming fake boyfriends.”
“I just said a name, and it happened to be the same name as yours.”
He went on as though I hadn’t spoken. “You’re also not above objectifying my body—my fine pair of hams, to be exact.”
“That was sarcastic!” I stamped my foot in the snow, but he only laughed.
“But tonight’s got me thinking. This arrangement could be useful to me, too.”
“We don’t have an arrangement. I’m confessing all my sins tomorrow morning.”
“No need. You owe me now, and I wanna do it.”
Slow down, heart. He didn’t mean it like it sounded. “Do what?”
“Pretend to date you this week.”
I looked at him like he was crazy. “What? Why?”
“Have you told your mom or sister anything yet?”
“No. Chloe was already in bed by the time I got home.” I rubbed briskly at my arms to ward off the chill.
Miles noticed. “Do you want to move to the porch? It might be warmer.”
I shook my head. “No. The windows are right there. Somebody could hear us.”
Miles brought his glove-covered hands to his face and blew warm air into them. “I’ve got three dates my mom is insisting I go on this week. You’re the perfect excuse.”
I made a noise of disbelief. “Why don’t you want to go on those dates?”
“One of the girls I knew in high school. She once made out with another guy while on a date with me.”
I mimicked Miles, blowing warm air onto my hands. “And your mom wants you to go out with her?”
“She doesn’t know that part. She thinks it’s two old flames reconnecting.”
“And it’s not?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe we should introduce her to Glenn.”
He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Not a bad idea.”
“And the other two?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“The other one’s a big lawyer here in town. She’s pretty, but kind of scary. She would eat a sweet, creative soul like me for breakfast.”
I scoffed. “A what?”
A grin burst across his face, his white teeth gleaming under the glow of the porch light. “You heard me. Very sweet.”
“And the other date? Are there really that many women your mom’s trying to set you up with?”
He smiled. “Well, you see, this is where it gets good. The other one is you.”
I jolted. “Me?”
“Apparently, you made a wonderful first impression on my parents. They both now love you.”
Dang it, Jack Taylor.
“I told your dad I had a boyfriend.”
His eyebrows raised appreciatively.
“He didn’t know it was you. He shouldn’t be pushing you toward a date with me.”
He laughed and folded his arms. “My dad’s a big believer in the whole ‘all’s fair in love and war’ mentality.”
“And you can’t just tell them no?”
He shrugged. “I could. But according to them, you’re exactly my type.”
I made the mistake of looking at him just then. My stomach dropped as our eyes were locked in a crosshair battle of wills and…something else. We should have broken our gaze moments ago, but he was still staring at me, and I was having a hard time looking away.
“I figured we could help each other out. We both get away from the matchmaking, and you save face with your mom and sister. Your family already thinks we’re together. It wouldn’t be hard to convince my parents.”
I sucked in a breath. This whole thing was my idea. I knew that I should have been readily agreeing to this crazy scheme. Glenn was here. And he was still a jerk. Miles was actually trying to do me a solid, helping me out in his own twisted way.
For reasons I couldn’t define, it was too much to have him see me like this. Too personal. My emotions from being here were too cloudy. I needed to be able to hide away under a passive smile to get me through this week. And Miles had never been one to let me get away with anything. Pretending to date him would mean we would be hanging out all the time. Him seeing me interact with my mom and her new husband? No, thank you. I didn’t need him judging my life choices over Christmas break.
“What do you say, Celery Stick?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” Even saying it for the second time, a sliver of doubt pierced through me, but I couldn’t let him see that. “I don’t think it would be in our best interest to get involved like that. I don’t date people I work with—even if it’s just pretend.”
He gave a tiny smirk of a smile. “No?”
“No.”
“Our grasp of the English language is astonishing,” he said, grinning.
The smile was out of my mouth before I could rein it in. I bit my lip to tug my unruly mouth back into shape. Did he seem more charming here than usual? I mean…not that I ever found him charming before.
“Alright,” he sighed. “Time to pull out the big guns.” He cocked his head to the side and studied me. “What do you want?”
My brows furrowed. “Nothing.”
“Everybody wants something. Did I hear you’re sleeping on the pull-out couch?”
I swallowed before lifting my chin defiantly. “Yup. And I love it.”
“Really? Do they still have those hard metal bars across the bed?”
“I wouldn’t know. It feels great so far.” Wow, the lies were just spewing from my mouth these days.
He smiled. “What if I told you that I had access to a cabin that’s not being used right now.”
I froze as my eyes flew up to his, trying to determine if he was pulling a fast one. A sudden sense of hope infiltrated my body. “Your mom said all the cabins were rented.”
“Not this one. The gas fireplace doesn’t work, so they couldn’t rent it out.”
“It’s not heated?” I asked doubtfully. That was a no-deal for me. I had to be warm.
“It has an old wood fireplace, too. Lately, it’s more used as a cozy look for website pictures, and the gas fireplace is what’s used to actually heat the place up. But I could find you an ax.”
He grinned at me. My eyes were drawn to his five o’clock shadow and mysterious brown eyes. I found myself blushing. Hotly. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the sudden vision of Miles Taylor in red flannel outside my cabin, chopping wood.
“You make all your guests chop wood?”
“I’ll chop it for the ones I like.”
My breath stilled. Did he mean—
“So, I’ll be sure to get you an ax.”