by Liz Durano
"With pepperoni and sausage," he adds. "No pineapple."
"I'll make sure to let my vegan family know about it."
Logan's jaw drops and he stares at me in horror. "You're not serious because we have to do some serious shopping if you are."
I laugh. "I was just kidding."
He lets out a long sigh of relief. "For a minute there, I thought you were serious and I'd be expecting tofurkey for Christmas dinner."
"Nah, we did that last year but Dad said no more. He's as carnivorous as they come." When Logan narrows his eyes as he looks at me, I chuckle. "Don't worry, Logan. Even with all the patchouli you're about to inhale back there, we're a meat-eating family."
We make it back on the road and this time, we keep conversation to a minimum. It allows me to settle into the vibe of home that I've missed so much, one that I sometimes wonder is still for me. If I were to leave everything behind in LA and come back here, would I be happy? I don't know the answer to that just as I don't know if I'll ever find a man just for me.
Is it because I'm too busy with work to give any man my time? It's not like I haven't been out on dates since Elliot and I broke up. Two years is a long time to pine for someone and I certainly didn't. But maybe I've been guarding my heart a bit more than I should. Is that why I haven't met anyone who can make my heart beat faster or the butterflies in my belly flutter? Well, except for Logan earlier in the morning when he talked about the pink and red skirts I wore to the shop. But I remind myself that Logan's just observant.
"We need to get our stories straight, Mariah," he says. "How long have we been seeing each other?"
"Six months."
"When did I propose?"
"Um, two weeks ago."
"Where did I propose?"
I bite my lip. "I haven't thought about that."
"Well, if I proposed to someone, I'd do it where we had our first date."
"That reminds me, where did we have our first date?" I ask.
"I'd have taken you for a ride on my motorcycle up to Newcomb's Ranch," he says. "It's twenty minutes on the Angeles Crest Highway and one of LA's best kept secrets... unless you're a biker. Then we'd stop at the Roadhouse for a bite to eat."
"Where else have we gone?"
He thinks for a moment. "What about the Santa Monica Pier. Have you been on the Ferris wheel?"
"No, not yet."
"Let's say that the first time I kissed you was on the Ferris wheel," he says, grinning. "What about the rest of the time when we're not out and about? What do we like to do together?"
I shrug. "Movies?"
"What's the first movie we saw together? Or the last?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen a movie in years."
"Then we can't use that. We're bound to stumble there." Logan thinks for a few moments. "What about hanging out at the beach or at home? With you and me having our own businesses, let's say we like to just chill at home."
"That should work," I say. "It's more my speed, definitely."
We don't speak for a few moments, Logan's attention on the road ahead and mine on the blur of trees outside the window. I can smell the scent of pine in the air, feel the chill of a Christmas winter in the wind.
"What about you?" I ask. "What do I need to know about your family other than every Friday, you visit your mom at the cemetery?"
Logan doesn't answer right away but I see his brow furrow. "Other than Liam and me being tight, not much really."
"Your dad? Didn't he hand you the shop?"
"Not exactly. He just walked away from it one day and left everyone hanging," he says. "At first, Liam and I took over because the guys hadn't been paid at all and suppliers were threatening to sue the shop. We didn't know much then but we learned on the job and because we already liked tinkering with engines and all that, it wasn't too difficult a transition."
"How old were you?"
"That was ten years ago so I was seventeen and Liam was twenty."
"Oh wow, that was way before I met you."
Logan nods. "By the time you and I met, Garrison Motors was in a better place. Everyone got paid and suppliers were happy. Dad was long gone by then and it was all for the best. The guys who worked for him mostly stayed with us until a few retired."
From the way I see Logan's Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, his gaze firmly on the road ahead, I know we're done talking about his family. That's when it hits me. He could have spent Christmas with Liam and Adriana but right now, Logan chose to spend it with me, pretending to be someone he's not.
4
Mariah
The Soraya Lodge Bed & Breakfast is on a 5-acre property nestled in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, less than hour from Lake Tahoe. Besides the main building with twelve cabin-style suites, there are three free-standing cabins around the property that we rent out throughout the year. There's also a round-shaped building where small groups host yoga and meditation classes as well as nature workshops.
The Soraya is usually busy all year round and when we were kids, we all had our chores around the place. While my brother helped Dad with repairs, my sisters and I mastered patching up walls and tidying things up. We had silly competitions like who could make the beds the fastest. These days, Mom and Dad have employees to do most of the housekeeping although Forrest, who lives in his own cabin at the edge of the property, does most of the repairs and maintenance.
"Soraya," Logan says out loud as we drive through the entrance and down the road leading to the private house at the back of the main lodge. Snow has turned the ground completely white. "What does the name mean?"
"It's a Persian name my mother fell in love with when she was younger. It means a very bright light or jewel. It also stands for the Pleiades, a cluster of nine stars in Taurus. You can actually see it in the summer although I'm not sure if we can see it clearly during the winter."
"Will you show it to me one day?"
I nod. "Sure."
The moment I see the main house in the distance, I feel my heart race. My hands become clammy. I glance at Logan whose attention is on the dirt road ahead. Can we really pull this charade off?
"Logan, maybe I should just tell them that you're a friend, just in case–"
"Aren't they expecting you to show up with your fiancé?"
"Yes, but I could tell them that he–"
"–is here with you." Logan rests his hand over mine. "Everything will be fine, Mariah. We're here and no matter what happens, we'll have a good time. Do you really back out now?"
I hear his words the exact moment I see Elliot's parents' home beyond the fence. I shake my head. "No."
"There you go."
Everyone is in the main house when we arrive. I know because I can hear them laughing the moment I open the passenger door. I also realize that no matter how confident Logan feels about my plan, it could fall apart the moment they start asking deeper questions like—
"Wait!" I exclaim, panic setting in for real. "We have to pick a date!"
Logan switches off the engine. "What date?"
"A wedding date! We haven't set one. If I were really engaged, I'd have set one by now," I say as the front door bursts open and everyone steps outside. Mom, Dad, Harper and Emily, all of them with broad smiles on their faces.
"Not everyone sets a date right away, Mariah. We both own businesses, remember?" Logan says as my sisters hurry toward the SUV.
"Mariah, you're finally here!" Harper has her phone in her hand, and I don't need to ask if she's filming us because she already is. They both stop when Logan steps out of the truck and stare at him.
"Oh, my! He's gorgeous." Emily says. "You never told us he was tall, dark, and handsome. Definitely an upgrade from–"
"Emily!" Harper shoots her a look before facing us again, her stern face breaking into a smile. "Now I know why you kept your engagement a secret. I know I would. I'd hate sharing him with anyone."
I roll my eyes at their silliness although their attempt to embarrass me and
Logan is working. He's blushing as my sisters approach him.
"You must be Harper and Emily. Mariah's told me so much about you," Logan says as my sisters each give him a hug.
"And he gives amazing hugs, too!" Harper exclaims before running around the SUV toward me. "I need to see the ring, Mariah. The ring!"
"Don't film it," I mutter. "It's not one of those big rocks."
She scoffs. "Like I care if it is or not. You're engaged. That's what matters."
"Why don't we all go inside where it's warm," Dad says as he envelops me in a hug followed by Mom, who smells of patchouli and lavender.
"I'm so happy you made it, Mariah," she says as she draws away to look at Logan who's shaking Dad's hand. "And I just love Logan's energy. It's so refreshing… so light and almost purple along his third eye."
"Thank goodness for that," Emily says, laughing. "Because if he didn't, then she'll be watching him like a hawk guarding her young the whole time. And I'm sure, Forrest will be, too."
"Where is he?" I ask.
"He's checking on a guest who rented one of the cabins but has no clue how to use the wood stove," Mom replies. "We can't have freezing guests now, can we?"
"Nope." I shake my head, giggling. We've had our share of guests from the city who've never seen a wood stove before and we usually refer them to one of the twelve rooms in the main lodge instead where the gas fireplaces are more manageable.
"But you'll see him in time for dinner," Dad says.
"Are they here?" I ask, my voice a whisper as I glance at the Rivers' house in the distance, the lights in the living room on.
Mom nods. "We ran into them this morning and they said hello."
"You never wait this late to come up," Dad says as we head to the house with Logan next to me. "But I'm glad you made it, honey. The news of your engagement has definitely made the holidays more exciting around here. The whole town knows."
I stare at Logan in horror before mouthing, I'm so sorry. But he just shrugs. What can he do anyway?
Inside, Emily's two-year-old son Jonathan is playing by the Christmas tree next to his father, Brad. He gets up to greet me and introduce himself to Logan while Emily and Mom take over watching Jonathan. From the corner of my eye, I see Logan follow Dad up the stairs with our bags and return a few minutes later. I can almost feel my panic rising. What if she asks him a question we didn't cover during the drive?
For the next twenty minutes, we talk about the flower shop and the drive up while Dad and Logan set the presents I'd brought with me on the living room floor in front of the Christmas tree.
"You need help with dinner, Dad?" I ask as he gets up from the floor a few minutes later, brushing the tinsel clinging to his trousers.
"Nah, you know the drill, honey. You guys make yourselves at home while your mom and I get dinner ready."
As Mom and Dad head to the kitchen, Logan gets his share of questions from everyone, most of them about how we met and what he does for a living. When the topic turns to motorcycles, Brad is all ears. Turns out he's been thinking of getting one although Emily isn't too happy about the idea.
Harper beckons for me to join her by the window where she's been taking pictures of the view.
"You were really cutting it close, Mariah. You're usually here by the 20th. It's Christmas Eve," she says as I lean against the window frame. "When you hadn't arrived yet this morning, I thought you weren't going to show up at all. And all because he was spending Christmas at home." She jabs her thumb toward the lodge in the distance next to the fence.
"Come on, Harper. You really think I'd be scared of seeing him again?"
She shrugs. "Not exactly scared. More like embarrassed if you were still single like you were last year. You couldn't even take a hike with us, afraid that he and Minerva would be there."
"That was last year. It's different this year." Even though my wedding to Elliot had been canceled a year earlier, it didn't stop the sad looks I got from everyone who knew what had really happened. Last year was just too soon for me to let go of that pain.
"Why didn't you say anything to us about Logan?" she asks. "Not once did you tell me you were seeing anyone, much less that you got engaged. And we text every week."
"We text mostly about what I'm supposed to post on my Instagram," I say wryly. "The only reason I take pictures of any of our floral arrangements is because you ask me to."
Harper rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. You love it, Mariah. I know because you're actually getting good at framing the shots. But that still doesn't excuse the fact that you never once even hinted that you were seeing someone."
"I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise everyone."
"Are you gonna show him around the property?" Emily asks as she joins us, Jonathan perched on her hip. "I'm afraid the longer Logan talks to Brad about motorcycles, the more likely he's bound to get one the moment we return home."
"What kind of motorcycle does Logan ride?" Harper asks.
"I think it's a Triumph."
Her eyes widen. "The same one that Keanu Reeves rides?"
"Keanu rides a Norton," I reply, remembering how Logan had corrected me, too, when I brought it up years earlier. "Logan and his brother restore bikes."
Harper's face brightens. "He has a brother?"
"Forget it, Harper," I say, laughing. "Liam's got a girlfriend who can kill anyone with dagger eyes just for looking at her man."
She makes a face. "Oh, one of those."
"Yup, one of those. But she's actually nice once you get to know her."
From where my sisters and I stand by the window, we can hear Logan and Brad's conversation shifting to what Logan thinks about Harleys. An annoyed glare from Emily tells me that I just might need to get my fiancé away from her husband. Like right now.
"Maybe I should show Logan around the property before it gets dark," I say as I step away from the window.
"Or before he convinces Brad to get a motorcycle," Emily mutters.
"Come to think of it, I actually need to get him something from the gift shop if the key's around. I want to get him something local. We still carry those leather bracelets, right?" I whisper.
"The one from the Delphine's gift shop?" Emily asks and I nod. The Delphine twins own a souvenir shop on Main Street and used to supply our gift shop with locally made jewelry. One of them married a billionaire and the other one is supposed to be engaged to his brother.
"Yup, that one. I remember they used to carry some that looked really nice. Expensive leather with platinum rings."
"I think there's a couple left, when I looked yesterday. Let me get the keys." Harper hurries toward the old guest room and returns with the keys to the main lodge. "The gift shop is closed right now so you'll need this. Make sure you write down what you bought or Mom will go crazy wondering if she forgot to write down a sale. Those bracelets aren't cheap, you know."
Taking the keys from Harper, I make my way to Logan and rest my hand on his shoulder, trying my best to act natural. "Hey, would you like me to give you a tour of the place before it gets dark?"
"Sure, love."
When he covers my hand with his and flashes me that charming smile I've known for the last three years, the butterflies in my belly start fluttering like crazy again. Suddenly I find myself wondering how things would be if we really were engaged?
But before I can imagine us being together, I tell myself to stop the nonsense. Logan is a friend, nothing more, and if I want us to remain friends after this, I need to stop thinking there's more to our simple arrangement when there isn't.
5
Mariah
We follow the path leading toward the main building where the gift shop is located. Holiday music is softly playing from the speakers when we come into the lobby through the double doors. Harry, the evening manager, waves at us from the office and wishes us a Merry Christmas.
"He and his wife live on the property and in an hour, he'll close the lobby to the public and celebrate Christmas," I say. "I hear
their kids flew in this year."
"This place very homey and rustic. Very family friendly," Logan says. "I like it."
I unlock the door to the gift shop and push the door open. "That's the Soraya for you. Simple, no-nonsense, let's-get-back-to-nature kinda vibe."
"I can see where your love for flowers began," he continues. "Do you ever think of moving back here one day?"
"Maybe to visit. I think between the four of us, Forrest is the one who loves this place the most. Ever since he retired from the Marines, this is where he'd rather be."
I push open the door and step inside, switching on the lights to reveal a gift shop carrying Mom's homemade oils and lotions, candles, handmade jewelry, t-shirts, and scarves and shawls. There is a rack of toiletries as well and snacks.
"Are all these locally made?" Logan picks up a smudge stick and brings it to his nose.
"Yup. Mom and Dad like to support small businesses."
He grins, returning the smudge stick back on the shelf before picking up an unpolished rose quartz crystal. "So that's where you get that from."
"Pretty much. I grew up around here and everything is considered small business, when you think about it."
As Logan continues to look at the crystals lined up on the counter, I find what I need and slip it into the pocket of my coat. I write down the product number on the ledger and tuck it back into the drawer under the cash register.
"See anything you like?" I ask when I notice Logan watching me, no longer studying the crystals.
"Yeah, but she's not for sale."
"Ha ha." I roll my eyes even though his words make my stomach do flip flops. "Come on, let me show you one of my favorite spots on the property before it gets dark."
We take the longer way back toward the house, passing by the vegetable gardens that are currently barren and partially covered with snow and one of the barns that Dad converted into a garage where he stores his precious 1955 bright red Chevy Cameo that he's been restoring for years. As we peer through one of the windows, even Logan is impressed.