Lorelei wipes her eyes, too, then flaps her hands at us. “Go, go get started before it gets any hotter. I cannotwaitto see what you two are planning.”
We grab a shopping cart and unload our tools and holiday decor, then head across the square to our spot. I’m frowning as we approach it.
“We brought too much stuff,” Amanda says.
“No, these are too big to put on the sidewalks on Kringle Lane.”
Not only are they eight feet tall, but they’re nearly that wide in diameter too. The bases are maybe a foot high, but easily four feet wide themselves. Each snow globe is on its own trailer for transportation.
The holiday crew must’ve been up half the night switching over from the photo shoot to putting the snow globes in place.
Amanda looks at me, then purses her lips together and makes a choking noise like she’s trying not to laugh.
“You’re picturing tourists dodging these all over Kringle Lane, aren’t you?”
“Grandma’s gonna get run over by a snow globe this year.” Her voice is quiet and strangled, and there’s no mistaking the utter amusement in her voice.
I stifle my own laughter.
Odds are good no one will get run over by a snow globe.
“Dane,” Uncle Rob calls again at the same time Amanda’s mother calls her name.
We lock eyes.
There’s zero question what’s on her mind.
Mine’s echoing it.
And it’s the right call.
Kiss her.
Ignore both of your families and kiss her.
Kiss her the way you were fantasizing about kissing her in the shower last night.
She’s not thinking that last part. That’s all my own deal.
I’ve done this to myself, and now I have to deal with the consequences.
Namely, kissing Amanda and knowing that when she kisses me back, it’s not about me.
It’s about the show.
But I still kiss her.
I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her tight against my body while I nibble on her lower lip. I stroke my hand up her back while I lick at the seam of her mouth. I tangle my fingers in her hair and touch my tongue to hers when she parts her lips.
And fuck if she doesn’t grip me by the ears and take the kiss even deeper herself, pushing her breasts against my ribs and making little noises that say she’s loving every moment of this kiss.
She’s faking, she’s faking, she’s faking.
It’s not a malicious thought.
I’m supposed to be faking this too.
It’s self-preservation.
