As we walk back toward the others, I catch her glancing at me, a small, secret smile playing at her lips. Whatever this is between us, it's definitely not fake anymore.
Emily eyes us suspiciously when we emerge from the trees. "Uh-huh. 'Strategizing.' Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"
"Shut up," Charlie mutters, bending to gather more snow.
Addie snaps a picture of us, then studies it on her camera's display. "You guys look happy," she observes.
"I am happy," I say, surprising myself with the simple truth of it.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and flying snow, culminating in a spectacular team-building disaster when Charlie and I attempt to construct a snowman that keeps listing dangerously to one side.
"It has character," Charlie insists, jabbing a carrotinto its misshapen face.
"It looks drunk," Emily says, scrunching up her features. "Architecturally unsound," she adds.
Addie circles it, taking photos. "I'm calling him Leaning Larry."
"Perfect," I say, draping my arm around Charlie's shoulders. "A true masterpiece."
She leans into me, fitting perfectly against my side. "Our first family snowman."
Our eyes meet briefly, and I wonder if she realizes what she's said—if she's thinking about next Christmas and the ones after that, like I suddenly am.
Sarah steps onto the deck, waving to get our attention. "Charlie! Emily! Your mom said she made dinner reservations and that everyone needs to come inside and get cleaned up!"
"Coming!" Charlie calls back. She turns to me, suddenly shy. "We should go."
"Yeah, I'll be in in a minute." I need a moment to collect my thoughts, to process the storm of feelings swirling inside me.
She nods, heading toward the house with Emily. Addie continues snapping photos of our ridiculous snowman, humming a tune I don't recognize.
I stand there, surrounded by the pristine Colorado mountains, the crisp air filling my lungs, and I realize something that should terrify me but instead fills me with certainty:
I'm falling in love with Charlie Whitaker. Not pretend love for a fake relationship, but real, profound, life-changing love.
And I have absolutely no idea what to do about it.
Because in a few days, this vacation will end. We'll go back to work, back to reality. And I'll have to face the question that's been haunting me since she first asked me to come here:
What happens when the pretending stops?
Chapter twenty-two
Charlie
I can still feel the tingle of Bash's lips against mine as we trudge back to the house. My mind keeps replaying the kiss. The heat, the urgency, the way his body pressed against mine. I barely register the conversations happening around me.
When we finally step into the warmth of the house, stomping snow from our boots in the entryway, Dad appears from the kitchen with a dish towel slung over his shoulder.
"There you all are! Hope you've worked up an appetite. We've made reservations at The Alpine for seven." He glances at Sarah and Addie, his expression brightening. "And you two are joining us, of course."
Sarah raises her hands in polite protest. "Oh no, Richard, you don't have to include us."
"Nonsense," Dad insists with that tone that brooks no argument. "You're most definitely invited. Even the Harpers are joining us."
I freeze, my heart sinking at the mention of The Harpers. Just when I'd started to forget about Ethan and why Bash is even here in the first place.
Sarah catches my expression, then looks questioningly at me. "The Harpers?"
