Page 66 of Hiding for the Holidays
“Do you bake cookies?”
She lets out a laugh as she asks. “Really? That’s what you’re thinking about?”
“Yeah, I was thinking how kind and thoughtful you are. I was thinking you’re the kind of girl who bakes surprise cookies for your boyfriend or surprises him with a home-cooked meal when he gets home from work, even when you’re working full time yourself.”
She shrugs and smiles sheepishly.
“I knew it.” Our server comes over with our drinks, and we both take a sip before I ask, “Did you always want to be in marketing?”
“No, at first I wanted to be an artist, but I wasn’t that good. I dabbled in graphic design, and that’s what led me to marketing. I still like designing stuff, like the flyers, but I find I enjoy the bigger picture stuff now. That’s why I got my business degree. It lets me look at a business like Iron Oaks, and figure out how to make it better.”
“You like what you’re doing for Iron Oaks?”
“I love it.”
“Once it’s successful and doing well… will you still like it?” I ask worriedly. “Or will you want to move onto a new project?”
She frowns as she looks down at our hands. “I hadn’t really thought about it. When I started, it was always with the intention of saving some money so I could start over in a new town, once things with Scott had died down.”
“And now?” I ask in hope.
“And now… I don’t really want to leave.”
“Good.” I squeeze her hands and smile in relief. “Cause I don’t want you to go. None of us do. I hope you know how much you mean to us, to me?”
She looks up at me with hope and nervousness shining in her eyes.
“You’ve been running for too long, Rosie. It’s time for you to stop.”
She licks her lower lip as she watches me, then she nodsonce. I hope that means she’s agreeing to stay, but I don’t want to push my luck just yet.
The server brings over our food, and she digs into her lasagna while I eat my chicken parmesan. We chat about the Open House and the winter festival, and when I’ve paid the bill and we exit the restaurant, I tell her I have one more stop before we go home.
“Wow, this is beautiful!” she says in awe as she looks down at the frozen pond.
Whispering Pines is known for this small pond with a bridge, which we are currently standing on, that gives you a view of it and the forest beyond. They string up Christmas lights at the edge of the forest and when the snow is covering everything, like it is now, it gives us the magical feel to it.
The fact that nobody else is here makes it feel romantic and a perfect place to end our date.
“I’m glad you like it,” I say, placing my arm around her shoulder and holding her against my side as we gaze out at the beautiful scenery.
“What was it like? Being in the army? Were you in the Middle East the whole time?” she asks, and I wonder how her mind took her to that topic.
“We did a few tours there, yes. But we were stationed at Ford Carson in Colorado.”
“Did you see anything as pretty as this?”
I look down at her and smile. “I’ve never seen anything as pretty as what I’m looking at now.”
She glances up and sees me staring at her. Her cheeks turn pinker than they already were as her eyes turn heated.
“Careful, sweetheart. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll forget we’re in public.”
“I don’t know if this classifies as public if we’re the only ones here,” she whispers, her eyes darting down to my lips.
Unable to hold back a moment longer, I lean down and press my lips to hers. She moans in approval, and I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her onto the railing. I instantly realize it’s too high. “Nope, this won’t do.”
I throw her over my shoulder and she giggles as I stomp down the bridge. Instead of taking the path back to where our car is parked, I turn into the forest until I find a suitable spot, where we can’t be seen by anyone who takes a walk across the bridge, but the glow of the Christmas lights is visible above us.
