Page 70 of Holiday Hopefuls
Callie shakes her head, bun flopping. “Nope. Mom has the decorators deal with getting our tree. And I’m not sure where the one at the lodge comes from.”
“Do you have a tree in your apartment?”
She laughs a carefree laugh. “Just one of those three-footers that hangs out in the corner. But it does the job.” Callie watches as a couple passes us with a mini schnauzer in tow. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring Nacho.”
Pressing my lips together, I make note of her every move, every tiny emotion flitting across her face.
I don’t want to forget it when our time truly does come to an end.
“She’s great with a few people. But all of this,” I wave my free hand, motioning to all the chaos, “would stress her out.”
“Poor Nacho.” Sympathy echoes in her tone, face dropping ever so slightly.
We’ll have to do something about that. “Hey, guess what.” Grinning, I stop in the middle of the path, pulling Callie into my arms. “The café here?”
She smirks like she knows right where this is going. “Yes … ”
Holding her this close, our noses graze one another. If she asks, I’ll just say she looked cold. “They have incredible hot chocolate,” I whisper.
“I think I may have to be the judge of that,” she grins, my breath becoming hers.
Placing a kiss on the tip of her nose, my lips never leave her skin. “I’ll buy you all the hot chocolate your heart desires.”
Leaning back, she giggles, inflating my ego. “You’re way too good at this. It’s not fair.” Sparkling coffee eyes roam my face.
“Kissing you?”
“Pretending to date me.”
Smile faltering, my insides constrict at her words, each one trying to poison what we could have together. Because for her, that’s all this is.
Playing pretend.
Peeking around me, recognition lights up her face. “Look, there’s your family.” Callie points up ahead a few rows, where my dad lays sprawled out on the ground, going to town with the saw.
Mom pops her head up from supervising as we approach, grinning when she spots Callie. “I guess it’s clear who they’re more excited to see,” I whisper to my girlfriend.
Callie playfully swats my arm, releasing herself from my hold. She runs right into my mom’s open arms. “Already have Marshall hard at work?” she teases.
Mom chuckles, a mitten-covered hand waving through the air. “Ever the perfectionist, he insisted.”
“Not to mention how Mom pretended to—” Blythe snaps her head toward Mom “—have broken kneecaps when she felt how cold the ground is.” My sister snickers.
Callie’s gloved fingers fly to her face as she tries to hide her laughter. Wide eyes find mine.
Shrugging, I recapture her hand. “Eh, Mom’s a little silly sometimes. But there’s nothing she hates more than being cold.”
Callie raises ruby brows. “Then I’m surprised you all followed Oliver to Serenvale Springs,” she says, looking at Mom. “We’re not exactly known for the balmy winters.”
“She and Blythe missed Ollie too much,” Dad calls from under the tree.
“But not you?” Callie lets go of my hand, much to my disappointment. But that woman never fails me. Getting down on her hands and knees, Callie climbs under the tree with my dad. “Here, let me.”
Dad gladly hands over the saw, sweat dripping down his face. “If you insist, Ms. Rutherford.” Moving to sit upright, he pulls a cloth from a concealed pocket, dabbing his forehead.
My mom and sister take pity, helping him up.
I’m too busy watching my girlfriend.
