Page 23 of The Christmas Cover Rule
Isabelle either gets the hint or she’s satisfied with that answer; I’m not sure which, but she moves on. Not a moment later, the table erupts in laughter when Marianna makes Callum show everyone the tan line from where he fell asleep with his goggles on his stomach this afternoon.
I cut into the last bit of my chicken, but I’m distracted by the squirming beside me. Maya and Ella are bouncing up and down, with matching wide eyes on the grassy area behind us. I turn in my seat, finding the brightly painted cornhole set they’re fixated on.
“Do you play?” I ask like it’s a weekly game of poker.
Their smiles grow ear to ear.
“Can you take us?”
I look to Lilianna, seeking confirmation that it’s okay. After a moment of disbelief, her eyebrows still raised, she nods her head.
“Let’s do it,” I say, standing from my chair. “But just because you’re three doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on you.”
They don’t wait for me before taking off in a wobbly sprint across the grass. I drop my napkin on the table, give a quick kiss to the top of Stella’s head, and laugh at the shock on her face as I chase after the girls.
“Alright, rules,” I say, picking up one of the bean bags. Maya doesn’t wait, but rather picks up her own, runs up the ramp, and shoves it in the hole, causing both girls to start squealing. “Yeah, who cares about rules?” I toss my bag, sinking it, and the girls cheer even louder.
Ella grabs a handful of the bean bags, and I crouch down, scoop her up, and in her shrill of surprise, she loses two bags. Maya starts chasing us, and when her little hands brush my calf, I pretend to stumble, setting Ella down carefully beside me. I pant like I’m out of breath, and they act like it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever seen. I sit up, and both girls tackle each of my legs.
“Ahhh! What are these little leg monsters?” I ask, pretending to struggle against one.
Their fits of giggles are so pure and genuine, I find myself laughing with them. By the time I’ve peeled one off, the other has wrapped all four limbs around my leg, leaving the other trying to catch her breath from her bursts of laughter and her balance from our wrestling match.
I make some crazy noises that only fuel the laughter, but dark strands of hair and a spot of green catch in my periphery. Stella stands watching us from a few feet away. Her hand is at her forehead, blocking the lazy sun, and she’s so beautiful, I swear the sun set just so she could bask in its glow.
CHAPTER 13
stella
When I woke this morning, the weight of everything I’ve been keeping to myself for so long had been lifted, and a new and unfamiliar sense of confusion sits in its place. The uncertainty starts in my head, but I can feel it making its way down to my chest.
My stomach flutters at the memory of Jonas running around, chasing the girls last night after dinner. Ellas’s fit of giggles as he swooped her up and spun her around with the glowing sun setting as their backdrop will be an image I’ll remember forever.
There’s something so effortless about the way he not only fits in with my family but also the way I’m able to open up to him. I’ve always kept my feelings bottled up because it’s always felt safer that way. No one can tell me I’m being dramatic or don’t understand. But with Jonas, it’s just easy. He flashes that perfect smile against his sun-kissed skin, and suddenly I’m sharing every thought I’ve ever had.
I was with Aiden for six months, and we never went beyond surface-level shit, but I guess in the back of my mind, I always knew it wouldn’t work out with him. It’s obvious nowthat I desperately just wantedonepart of my life to be successful. I didn’t care that it never quite felt right; instead, I only cared about how it looked.
Logically, I know that in three days’ time, all of this goes away. But nothing about what we’re doing anymore feels fake. I like to think I have a good read on Jonas, and between all the ways he finds to softly touch me, take an interest, and even show concern for me, I’m willing to gamble that these feelings aren’t just one-sided.
Palm trees sway in the soft breeze outside the window, and I reach my hand over to the empty space in the bed beside me, watching the morning sunlight glint off my rings. I drag the pillow from his unmade side, bringing it to my face and hiding my smile in it. His scent lingers; it’s not heavy, but it’s just enough of him that I breathe in a little deeper.
A loud buzzing sound has me sitting up and throwing the pillow back. I look around the room, finding the source of the sound on the dresser at the end of the bed. I should ignore it, but I’m assuming Jonas is out for his run, so I pad across the room and look down the phone.
A photo of a beautiful, blonde woman sticking her tongue out beside Jonas, who is holding a fluffy black cat on his head, flashes with an incoming FaceTime call. Gorgeous, rolling, green hills set the perfect backdrop for a romantic trip.
The screen goes dark, and I drop the phone, unaware of when I picked it up in the first place. I stumble back until my legs hit the bed, and I plop down on top of it.
I scrub my eyes before dragging my fingers through my hair and letting out an aggravated groan. My thoughts begin a marathon sprint, and I can’t focus on one problem over the other. I’ve not only roped a man into pretending to be my boyfriend, but I’mstayingwith him. I’m sleeping in the same bed as him, for fuck’s sake.
“Oh my god,” I murmur to myself,fidgeting with my rings. Just minutes ago, I had convinced myself this was something. That something was really happening here. I shove aside the gutted feeling attempting to take root in my stomach, just long enough to let the anger bloom.
My neck grows hot thinking of what he’s done, especially because he knows. He knows what happened with Aiden. This entire mess started because of what happened with Aiden. And now here I am being made to be the other woman?
I stand from the bed, heading to the bathroom on a war path, but I catch movement from the corner of my eye on the patio. Jonas is sitting at the table, wearing nothing more than his running shorts as he sips his coffee with one hand and types something on his laptop with the other. I snatch the phone from the dresser, and in my overdrive of emotions, I don’t even remember to grab a robe before storming outside.
“Morning, sleepy head,” he greets me, completely oblivious to my annoyance.
“Here.” I throw his phone at him, but his reflexes are quick and he catches it with one hand. “Your girlfriend called.”
