I turned to hang the coats and opened the closet door, only to immediately regret every decision that had led me to this exact point in my life.
There was a man in the closet. It was the guy dressed as Santa! Hog-tied. Slumped like a sad sack of flour against the wall. His head was so swollen, it looked like someone had tried to inflate it with a bicycle pump and then lost interest halfway through.One eye was sealed shut; the other one, well, I didn’t know where it was under all the swelling, but I was sure it was there somewhere.
I clamped a hand over my mouth before the scream could come out. My parents finding a man in the closet definitely wouldn’t help our case.
Lachlan, oblivious—or maybe justLachlan—slid open the glass door and gestured for my parents to follow him outside like this wasHouse Flippers: Homicide Edition.I could see it now.
I caught his eye over my mother’s head and did the only reasonable thing: I pointed to the closet like I’d just discovered a raccoon in there and mouthed,What the fuck?
Lachlan glanced at the closet then back at me and had the audacity—theaudacity—to shrug. The man shrugged. Like keeping a half-dead man tied up next to your winter coats was a quirky personality trait and not, you know,a felony.
I shut the door slowly, like maybe if I closed it gently enough, the guy would disappear and so would my growing criminal record.
Lachlan showed my parents around the cabin, took them to the office, and was joking around with them as if he’d known them his whole life. At this point, I was sure they would still come out to his place for the holidays once all of this was over because of how much they seemed to like the guy. I took a long sip of my beer, watching him pour my mother another glass of wine like a gentleman. He had cooked dinner, and now we were allseated around the table, chatting about the next event we had planned: The Evergreen Haven festival. There were going to be sleigh rides, games, live music, and plenty of Christmas tree sales happening. It was our last hurrah of the season, and based on how well the Santa photos had gone sales-wise, I was hopeful.
“So, tell me more about these sleigh rides?” my mom asked, swirling her wine with entirely too much enthusiasm. “Do you guys already have a path?”
The moment she asked, there was a muffled groan from the closet.
My eyes went wide. Lachlan’s did too, but he recovered quicker. He cleared his throat, lifted his beer, and gave me alookover the rim of the bottle.
“Oh, it must’ve been Tony,” he said with an overly casual laugh. “Poor guy’s had some serious gas lately.”
My father frowned and looked toward the hallway. “Damn, it sounds like someone’s dying over there.”
“Oh no, he just—he moans when he’s bloated,” Lachlan added, and I couldn’t believe how smoothly the lies rolled off his tongue.
Tony, bless him, barked in agreement from the corner of the room, where he’d been curled up.
“Actually,” I jumped in, standing quickly enough to rattle my chair. “Why don’t I show you guys the trail we’re planning for the sleigh rides?! It’s just out back, and Tony needs a walk anyway. Walking after a meal is always good, right?”
I was talking a little louder and more excitedly than I needed to, already halfway around the table, pulling my mother’s chair out before she had a chance to argue. She blinked up at me, confused but obliging, her wineglass still in hand.
“Oh . . . Well, sure, I suppose a little walk wouldn’t hurt.”
My father stood with a grunt, rubbing his stomach. “I’m in.”
I gave a tight laugh and avoided looking toward the closet, where another faintthumpechoed. I kept my smile pasted on my face.
“C’mon, Tony,” I said, grabbing Tony’s leash off the hook and clipping it to his collar with one hand while the other firmly gripped the sliding door.
I glanced over my shoulder. Lachlan leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, sipping his beer with maddening calm, that familiar wicked grin tugging at his lips as he eyed me. He looked like sin, and fuck if I didn’t desperately want him. He made my knees weak. I shook him from my thoughts.
Get rid of him,I mouthed, eyes darting toward the closet.
He nodded slowly and then took another long swig. The lean cut of his body, his corded forearms, the dark lighting, if my parents weren’t here, I’d jump his bones right now. He noticed me looking at him because when my eyes caught his again, he winked and set down his glass with a grin.
My knees actually buckled. The nerve of this man.
“It was lovely meeting you, Mister and Misses Roark. I have a lot of chores to catch up with on the farm, so don’t wait up for me tonight,” Lachlan informed as he approached me, lifted my chin with his thumb and forefinger, and placed a gentle but long kiss on my lips that practically had me levitating from the amount of butterflies in my stomach. He pulled away and held my gaze for a moment before I turned away and slammed the door behind me before I could catch another glimpse of that smug expression, herding my parents and Tony out into the cold night. God, this man was really selling our fake-dating situation.
The forest by the office was lit by string lights Lachlan had hung earlier that week. I kept up the chatter, pointing out the sleigh ride path.
“You two really seem to be happy.” My mom nudged me with her elbow as we stepped over a root.
“We’re . . . working on things,” I offered vaguely, trying not to picture what “things” currently meant.
My dad grunted again. “Well, I like him. Anyone who can grill a steak like that and get along with your mother is a winner in my book.”
