I ease out, then thrust back in. Quickly, I find a rhythm, fucking my fake Christmas girlfriend in the barn as the horses watch.
It doesn’t take long. Soon, she’s roping her arms around my neck, kissing me hard, and shuddering as she comes quietly, silencing her sounds with a kiss.
When she breaks it, another jolt of pleasure slams into me, and I grunt out, “Yes, fucking yes.”
The last thing I register is the satisfied glint in her eyes before I come so hard I see stars.
A minute later, as we hustle to clean up, adjust clothes, and pick up the blanket, a loud snort startles me, and I spin around.
It’s Honey, and she lets out an unholy neigh, almost like she approves.
“Good girl.” I head over to stroke her muzzle. She leans into my palm, then I give her a kiss and leave.
I turn to Isla. “You are too.”
She tsks me. “Flattery will get you nowhere. You still need to pay up.”
“Seriously?”
She clears her throat and adopts a gravelly masculine voice. “Yes, fucking yes.”
I shrug. “I have no regrets.”
Instead, I’m looking forward to whatever this woman has in store for me. I’ve never—never—felt this…calm and steady about a date.
And I know why I’ve enjoyed this ridiculously romantic night.
Because I like her. So much.
More than I wanted to. More than I bargained for. Ilike her so much that I don’t know what to do with all these fizzy feelings in my chest.
This isn’t just sex.
It’s never been just sex.
And I have no idea what to do about that.
For now, on the way out, I leave the blanket in a bin markedlaundry, then trudge across the snow, the far-off flames guiding us.
When we reach the fire pit, Hank gives me a chin-nod, and a warm smile. His wife does too.
“How was everything?” he asks.
Isla reaches for my hand and cuts in with, “Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.”
41
MY CALENDAR ISN’T AS FESTIVE AS ME
ROWAN
Mendacious.
It’s December twenty-first, and that’s the word of the day on my app? It means false, fabricated, fake.
Maybe the app is seeing into my soul, demanding I do a little searching on whether my feelings are fake at all. Those thoughts run through my head as I slip away from Isla’s love shack in the morning, after giving her a soft kiss on her forehead while she’s still asleep, then sending her a note that I needed to take off.
On the way to my car, I’m shaking my head as I check the app. Four days before Christmas and the word of the day ought to be something like…jocund. Mirthful. Vivacious. Some synonym for joyful.
