I cringe. “So I’ve been eating beef candy all these years?”
“Well, not if you get it from here,” she says, gesturing to her shop. “We’re proudly meat-free. But yes, gelatin is common in a lot of candy from licorice to gummy bears.”
I cringe. “I don’t ever want to eat licorice again.”
“Or just eat this licorice,” she says, patting a jar with vegan licorice, next to a discount red basket full of Valentine’s candy, all markedVegan AFtoo.
Remy strides closer to me, her gaze curious. “Do you have a thing for licorice, Lake?”
“Until I learned I was eating meat when I thought it was sugar.”
Remy pats me on the arm, her brown eyes twinkling. “Let me help you. I’m kind of a candy aficionado.”
Before I know it, the candy lover is scooping up the wedding favors, and buying up the licorice, and something about the competence she displays in breezing through the store irks me—like it means she’s already and easily moved the hell on from the other afternoon when she fell apart in bed, my face buried in the crook of her neck. But the way she sails through the store excites me too.
That’s the problem with obsession.
You just can’t hit the off button so quickly. Especially when she buys up discounted Valentine hearts that say things likebite me.
That’s totally not going to make me think of what I’m not having with her.
* **
As the sun dips low on the horizon, we pass the North Pole Nook and Tavern and turn down a side street, then I pull up to the Chestnut Inn. Since this town’s bread and butter is Christmas, there are chestnuts roasting on the sign in the yard but no snow on the ground, or the hint of it in the air.
Good—I don’t need to get snowed in with her, or anything fucking romantic like that. Just need to get checked in, eat dinner, and get some alone time, so I’m not stuck with her and this going-nowhere attraction.
I grab her bag. “I managed to upgrade our room to a suite—two bedrooms and a living room. Couldn’t get an extra room tonight. Too many people in town for the game.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Inside the inn, we head to the main desk, and an older man with a pale face, a goatee, and red hair snaps his gaze to us from the screen. “Welcome to the Chestnut Inn. How may I help you?”
“Hey there, Cedric,” I say, reading his name tag. “I’m checking in. I’ve got a suite for tonight. Last name is Axelrod.”
“Fantastic. I’ll just look you up right now,” he says, then studies the screen. Studies it for a few more beats than I’d expect.
“That’s a suite for tomorrow night?” he asks with some concern, looking up.
“Nope. Tomorrow is just a regular room for me.”
“And tomorrow I have my own room,” Remy chimes in, then gives her name. “But for tonight we’re sharing.”
“The suite?”
“Yes. Tonight’s for the suite. Since there’re two of us. Two friends,” I add, for Remy’s sake, since that’s what she wanted.
Cedric swings his gaze from Remy to me, like he’s addingup the details of us. “Right,” he says, squinting at the screen, then clucking his tongue.
Cedric looks up with an apology written in his eyes. “See, it looks like the suite upgrade was for tomorrow night. Tonight we just have the one room. A regular room with a king-size bed though.”
He fastens on a smile that seems to sayI really hope that’ll do.
“That’s all you have for my friend and me?” Remy asks, voice squeaking.
And shit.
That was a rookie mistake I made, introducing us as friends. We’re supposed to be faking it as boyfriend and girlfriend.Everywhere.What if this guy knows someone? Like Jameson or Caroline? What if he rats us out? Is that why he was clocking us seconds ago?Probably, you dumbass.
