“I can understand the confusion. He’s a member of BCA—Baseball Cards Anonymous. It’s for people who are addicted to buying baseball card packs. He believes the next pack he buys is going to have a 1921 Babe Ruth or a Lou Gehrig.”
He leaned closer. “But what if it did?”
Thrills raced through her body. She giggled. “Don’t encourage him!”
“I can’t make any promises.”
She laughed. Holy fruitcake, Batman. Cliff was funny. That was … unexpected. “Okay, you’ve been warned.”
“That’s all you’ve got?”
“No, but you refuse to take our crazy seriously, so there’s not much more I can do here.”
He chuckled—a real, honest-to-goodness chuckle. She did a mental fist pump and booty shake in triumph. Cliff leaned his arm on the widow and relaxed into the seat, still facing her more than the road. Still making butterflies flitter in her stomach.
He was a really great guy, coming to her family Christmas party to save her from her aunt’s version of romance and the constant nagging to get married. A lead weight grabbed the butterflies in her stomach and pulled them down to reality. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the feeling. If she was any kind of a good person, she’d turn the car around right now and save Cliff from the wolves waiting for him at the cabin. That was what a good person would do.
Except… she reasoned with her conscience. Cliff didn’t know what she’d told her mom, and her mom didn’t know that Cliff didn’t know. As long as everyone was kept in the dark, no one would know anything, and they could have a lovely holiday together doing more of this back-and-forth thing that both tied her in knots and undid her.
Not to mention the fact that taking him back to the condos meant Cliff would be alone for the holidays. No one should be alone at Christmas. That was a rule her family prided themselves in keeping.
Feeling a little more justified in hauling her neighbor up a mountain, she continued on with the reasons taking him was a good idea—a great idea! The last reason was that she felt calmer, stronger, and braver with Cliff around. Usually, on the drive up, she bit her nails to the quick stressing over how she was going to explain that she’d managed to live a whole year without finding her soul mate. This year’s drive had been entertaining and fun. She didn’t want to give up the peace Cliff had brought into her life.
Was that selfish?
Yes. Yes, it was.
But he’d almost smiled, and he’d chuckled for the first time—ever. So maybe being with her was good for him. When he was at her place, or she took him baked goods, he didn’t hide the gloom that circled him like storm clouds. Maybe she could help that lift—at least for a couple days—and he’d be glad he came.
Then again, if he found out he was her forbidden fake fiancé for the weekend, he’d think she was insane and never speak to her again. The thought made her insides curdle like week-old eggnog. Not because she needed him to keep her condo in good repair, but because she liked Cliff. He was a good friend, probably the only one she had outside of the office. And the thought of losing him made her feel like a storm cloud.
Chapter 6
Cliff
Cliff took his bag out of the back seat. He’d stuffed a green beanie on his head before getting out of the car. The mountain air was crisp, and his breath puffed around his head. The cold bit at his cheeks and fingers, making him thankful he’d brought his insulated work coat. It wasn’t the prettiest thing with a few grease spots here and there, but it protected him.
Diana was equally as warm, but her clothing was more feminine. Her coat had a sheen to it that whispered the wordmoney. Instead of work boots like he’d donned, she wore knee-high black leather with fur around the calf. Her hair rolled down her back in waves. He’d often wondered if it was as soft to touch as it appeared.
She smiled at him as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he grumbled. It wasn’t that he was upset about being here with her. That was the easy part. The hard part was meeting new people. He’d done his best to be out of social situations for a while, and suddenly he was thrust back into small talk and making nice with Diana’s family. He felt like a rusty hinge trying to swing open again. If her parents were like Diana, with her warm smile and kind words, then he’d be okay. He clung to that thought as he took in the woods and the buildings as they made their way over the crunchy snow.
The cabin—if one could even call it that—was three stories high. There were large windows across the front, and a door twice his height and five times his width loomed over them. Two holiday wreaths covered in rustic reindeer and plaid bows reminded him of Diana’s door. It was easy to see where she got her style.
He pictured lighting this place at night and let out a low whistle. The front porch was almost the size of his living room. There was a wooden bench surrounded by buckets and planters filled with twigs covered in some kind of sparkling frosting. Christmas ribbons and bobbles were artfully placed.
Before Diana could respond to his appreciation of the mansion—because that’s what it was, no matter how many times she called it a cabin—the front door flew open. A woman with the same auburn-colored hair as Diana threw open her arms. “Merry Chri—” The rest of the greeting died on her lips as her eyes landed on Cliff. She took him and his work clothing in with an unconcealed sense of alarm. “Diana?” She darted a look at her daughter.
“Hi, Mom! Merry Christmas.” Diana leaned in and gave her mom a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “This is Cliff Wagoner.” She moved to push her way inside.
Her mother closed the door slightly, blocking their view of the inside. “This isn’t the man you told me about, is it?” She smiled at Cliff as if there was a simple misunderstanding and she was going to take care of it right now.
There was no misunderstanding. He understood, quite clearly, that his scuffed winter work boots were no match for the pearls and pressed gingerbread man apron this woman sported. Her perfectly combed hair and powdered complexion didn’t come from the same world as his scruffy beard and corduroy pants.
His cheeks heated with shame. He’d been out of socializing for so long, he’d forgotten the basics. He should have shaved—or at least trimmed up his beard. He should have dressed up. Though his flannel shirt had a collar, it wasn’t the type of thing he’d wear to a nice dinner. Heck, there were a half dozen things he could have done to make a better impression on Diana’s family if he’d given it half a thought. But he’d come as he was, not imagining that he wouldn’t fit in. He should have thought about it, though. Diana was alwaysdressed to the nines, as his grandmother would have said. He should have tried—for her sake. He glanced down, wondering if she would snub him to save face with her family. If that was the case, he would go home. Offering an Uber driver double the fare would be worth it.
Diana put her arm around his and held on to his bicep with her other hand. She was possessive and protective. Her level of friendship hit him in a soft spot. No one but his brother had stoodwithhim after the engagement/wedding/debacle. Even his parents had fled the country to get away from the whispers and the questions. Although the feelings Diana’s statement made didn’t feel anything like what he would feel if his brother was standing there. He stood taller.
