Fake Fiance Christmas Collection: Countdown to Christmas

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Fake Fiance Christmas Collection: Countdown to Christmas Page 45

by Taylor Hart


  She smiled. “You’re my therapist now?”

  “Do you need one? I mean, that would be another thousand for sure.” He whistled. “Sounds like you have some deep issues.”

  She laughed and splashed him. “Okay, Christmas boyfriend, tell me more about you. The real you.”

  “I actually don’t think it’s a good idea now.”

  “Why?” She sat up.

  “Because you have a lot to deal with, and I’m no picnic.” He tapped his head. “So tonight, we’ll end our session here.”

  It confused her that everything with Dom felt real. The plan had seemed perfect twenty-four hours ago, but now it had all fallen apart. “Ya know, maybe I just need a distraction this weekend too.”

  Their eyes locked, and she felt the same attraction for him as she had earlier. She pushed it away. No, no, no. This was crazy.

  A smile played at his lips. “So I could be your distraction, and you could be mine? Okay.”

  They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  With a yawn, Dom stretched. “Let’s go in for the night.”

  She didn’t want to go in. It felt like it had already passed the time of night when you could crawl comfortably in bed and sleep soundly. She knew she wouldn’t be doing that much sleeping tonight. “You go ahead. I’m too keyed up to sleep. I’ll wait up and see if I can spot Santa’s sleigh.”

  “It’s in the yard,” he quipped.

  She smiled. “Yeah, my parents kind of go all out for Christmas décor.”

  “Crap.” He stiffened. “I don’t have a gift for you and I’m your boyfriend.”

  Watching him take it seriously was fun, she decided. “Yes, you do. I have both of our gifts in my bag. Guess you’ll have to see what it is tomorrow.”

  He grunted and settled back into the water. “Good. I mean, thanks.”

  Satisfaction wove through her. “Okay, if you’re staying in the water with me, I need to hear about the deep, dark, real past of Dominick Carter,” she said dramatically, like a movie announcer.

  Looking doubtful, he said, “Fine.”

  “Start at the beginning.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. After all, you never gave me a binder.”

  He turned to her and rolled his eyes.

  She let out a tiny laugh. “Distraction, remember? Ramble away.”

  His initial silence made her think he would brush her off, but then, as if a switch had been flipped, he started rattling off information. “Okay, I grew up in Denver. My mother and Justin’s mother were sisters. We were a close family. Justin was more like a brother to me. I always wanted to be in the military, to serve my country. My dad was an engineer for Boeing, and he was always flying all over the world buying equipment for fighter pilots. When I was eighteen, I got a governor recommendation and was one of the few who got into the Air Force Academy.”

  She leaned forward, impressed.

  “I was at the top of my class. As you know, my parents were killed two years ago in a drunk driving accident, and my fiancée left me. Basically, everything changed, and it’s never been the same.”

  Regret that she’d behaved so poorly toward him earlier pulsed through her. “I’m sorry.”

  The side of his lip tugged up. “See, everyone gets hurt sometimes.” He must have seen her next question in her face before she asked, because he added, “Brunette, short, and smart. She wanted to be an attorney and save the world.”

  Lacey smiled. “She sounds horrible.”

  He burst out laughing.

  “Well, she was an idiot for leaving you.”

  “I wasn’t in a great place when my parents passed away. I think it scared her. Sometimes we think we know people, and when they aren’t like we thought … it’s hard.” He waved a hand into the air. “The past’s the past. It always works out, I guess.”

  She wanted to ask more about her, but she sensed he was done talking about it. Once again, he looked at her lips, and she felt her heart flutter. She’d made the kissing thing such a big deal between them. Now, she was wishing she hadn’t.

  Leaning back, he shook his head. “You know, I think that’s more than the stupid therapist has gotten out of me.”

  She tried to process it all. “So spending time with Justin was probably something you were really looking forward to?” Her stomach writhed with guilt. In agreeing to be her boyfriend, he had given up time with his cousin.

  “Yeah, well …” He let out a sigh. “It wouldn’t be such a big deal, but Justin was really pushing me to come because four months ago, I was shot down.”

  She swiveled around toward him. “What?”

  The relaxed version of him vanished, and she could feel him tense. “I’m fine,” he said in a stilted way.

  “You were shot down while flying your plane?”

  “Yeah.” He swallowed. “That’s what I do. Fly reconnaissance missions. It’s part of it. I’m fine.”

  “What happened?” she demanded.

  He shrugged. “I survived.”

  “Oh my!” This was too much. “No. You don’t get to be all ‘I’m too cool about it.’ You were shot down. Like in enemy territory? How long were you there?”

  Blowing out a breath, he shook his head. “It’s classified.”

  It stunned her she was really talking to a military pilot who had been shot down during a classified mission. “This is unreal. And here I am, crying about an old boyfriend.”

  The side of his lip tugged up. “Hey, personal stuff is important too. It’s my job to fly over enemy territory.” He put a hand to his chest for emphasis. “My job.”

  She was mystified by this man. Not only by the fact he’d been shot down and acted like it was just a job, but also that he didn’t trivialize what she was going through. With a little pout, she pressed, “You really can’t tell me?”

  “No, and don’t do that puppy dog stuff. It doesn’t work on guys like me.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she thought about how tough Dom was. Yeah, she’d been checking him out. Too bad she been too wrapped up in her own problems to notice anything except Oliver. At this moment, all she could think about was how Dom had been trapped behind enemy lines. “Were you captured? Hurt? Where were you?”

  “Classified. Classified. Classified.”

  “Man.” She splashed water at his face, then sputtered when he returned the favor. “You seriously can’t tell me?”

  Letting out a breath, he relented a bit. “It was the Middle East. Super dangerous.”

  She showered him with water again, hating that he put himself in that kind of danger.

  He laughed. “Stop already. It’s fine. This is what I chose to do. This was what I wanted to do. This was my dream.”

  She glared at him, hating that she worried for him now. “You weren’t hurt?”

  He let out a breath. “I was shot down. You don’t really dust yourself off and go dancing like James Bond after that. Nothing too serious, but it wasn’t a walk in the park.”

  She wasn’t satisfied. “Are you still doing this crazy job?”

  Giving her an irritated look, he scoffed. “Of course.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Don’t worry, they have me seeing a stupid therapist once a week to help me deal with the traumatic experience, so I’m fine.”

  “Why do you do this?”

  He didn’t reply.

  She pushed his shoulder. “You can tell me that, right?”

  Looking tortured, he said, “No.”

  “Yes,” she insisted.

  Scrunching his face, he shook his head. “No.”

  “Yes.” She splashed him.

  He laughed and splashed her back. “No, we’re not even … it sounds arrogant.” He broke off.

  “Tell me.” She nudged him again.

  He let out a tortured sigh.

  “Tell me!”

  “Fine, I always believed I was exceptional. Like, if there was something I could do or be to matter, this wa
s it. The Air Force. I could outfly and outmaneuver everyone else.”

  “So you think you’re Spider-Man?”

  “Maybe. If I had to pick, it’d be Superman. It’s always Superman.”

  “Right, ’cause you do fly.”

  He flashed her a smile, and she felt the urge to kiss him again. “It’s more than that. I kind of like the torture of working hard for something. I like the adrenaline rush of accomplishing something.”

  “So do I, but I don’t think getting shot down in enemy territory would be an adrenaline rush, I think it would scare me to death,” she said snarkily.

  “What’s the best way to explain it … You know when you get the flu and your teeth are chattering and you can’t get warm? How you pull the blanket up and you shiver?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I like that feeling.”

  She stared at him.

  “I don’t know why. I just do. I would have been a Navy SEAL if I didn’t love speed so much.”

  “You’re masochistic.” Oddly enough, she respected him for it. This guy had grit.

  “You’re looking at me weird.”

  She shook her head, feeling different about him. “The real Dom is a lot different than the fake one.” With a laugh, she wondered if today was the end of something or the beginning. “Ya know what?”

  “What?”

  “You’re going to love Christmas in Snow Valley. Tomorrow is going to be the best day ever.” She felt a new purpose course through her.

  “Is that a guarantee?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  She nodded. Finding a way to help Dom have a good holiday might just be the thing to make her happy too. She put her hand out to shake. “The Lacey Hamilton guarantee—you can’t do better than that.”

  Dom took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled her into his arms and smiled. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  Chapter 12

  The next morning, Dom woke to the sound of pounding on the door. “C’mon, big guy. You said you were good in the ring. Let me at ya!”

  Jolting to a sitting position, Dom recognized Mike’s voice.

  The late night came back to him. The hot springs, the confessions. Shaking his head, he pushed the covers back and rushed to the guesthouse door, flinging it back.

  Mike stood there, wearing a tank top, boots, and gym shorts. “Are ya in the mood to spar? Mom says we’re not opening presents until seven-thirty.”

  Dom couldn’t stop a big, dopey grin from spreading across his face. He loved to spar. “Heck yeah.”

  Mike grunted. “Booyah. Get your stuff on and meet me at the gym, unless you’re a pansy who needs breakfast first.” He took off at a run.

  Dom checked the watch on his wrist: oh five hundred. He laughed and shut the door, rushing back to get his clothes on. Between Lacey and Mike, he was burning the candle at both ends.

  Getting to the gym a few minutes later, he was surprised to see Lacey already there, covered from head to toe in red lycra, capped with a black hair sarong. It unnerved him how beautiful she was. How perfect her body was. Not in a way that was media-woman perfect, but in a way that he knew her perfectly sculpted shape wasn’t for show … it was for her dream.

  Seeing her last night in a bathing suit had been more than satisfying. Her body was a finely tuned tool. At the moment, she was bending her leg way back over her head in some crazy position. She smiled at him as he entered. “Sorry about Mike. He’s like a puppy.”

  Dom winked. “I eat puppies all day long.”

  She giggled, and he liked the sound more than he should’ve. He’d known this woman for less than twenty-four hours, and he was a paid date.

  “Best day ever.” She grinned at him. “Merry Christmas.”

  A smile washed over his face, and he found there was no other place he would rather be at the moment. “Merry Christmas.” Moving into the gym, he pushed away the fact that last night, as he’d fallen asleep, he’d been quite happy that Oliver had turned out to be such a schmuck. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about how much he liked staying up until all hours exchanging secrets with Lacey. Usually he didn’t like people being close to him and he worked to maintain distance. He’d thought this whole paid date thing would be fine because it wasn’t real.

  He turned back to watch her before he moved into Mike’s part of the gym. Their eyes met. Nervousness churned inside his gut when he realized she’d been watching him walk through the gym. He gave her a slight wave. “Hope your brother survives.” Then he took off, rounding the corner.

  The fact that he was about to do some rounds in the ring made him quite happy, but the real reason for his good mood was gracefully standing in the dance studio.

  “You showed up.” Mike stood in the ring, already wearing all the gear, prancing around like Muhammad Ali.

  Dom peeled off his clothing. “Can’t say I object to pounding someone first thing Christmas morning. Guess we have that in common.”

  “Come on!” he heard Mike say as he pounded his fists together.

  Changing quickly, Dom thought this would be an excellent way to get out all of the mental bugs. He grinned. He liked the idea of a Lacey Hamilton guarantee. Perhaps too much. Yet here he was, already feeling invested in this thing.

  “Going to feel nice to get worked over, Dom?” Mike taunted as Dom put on the gloves and headgear.

  Dom wasn’t intimidated about fighting anyone. He could see by looking at Mike he had been training for MMA and he had been working out. He was a big guy. Strong. Dom was strong too, but Dom tried to stay on the leaner side of things for being a pilot. He didn’t need to add weight. As he’d proved six months ago when he’d been shot down, he needed to be able to run.

  “Sure you’re not afraid of getting pounded, little brother?” Dom said it the same way Lacey had said it yesterday.

  “Oh, you’re going down.” Mike snorted and kicked his feet like a bull.

  They both weaved and danced and bobbed around each other for a little bit. Then Mike went in for a jab.

  Dom deflected it and offered one of his own.

  This went on for a bit as they felt each other out. When Mike added some leg action, Dom quickly found himself on his back.

  He popped up, impressed by her brother. So he turned it up. He didn’t like to cheat and use his special ops training, but he might have to make an exception.

  Mike came at him, and Dom sidestepped the blow, turning back with a roundhouse kick to Mike’s ribs.

  “Dang!” Mike yelled out, going down to his knees. Feeling bad, Dom reached out to help him up, but Mike sprang back up with respect in his eyes. “You can put out the hits, old man.”

  “Old man?” Dom sputtered with laughter.

  He heard giggling coming from the doorway. Turning, he saw Lacey leaning up against it, a smile on her face. She gave them a thumbs-up. “Good job, tough guys.”

  He waved back to her, but flinched when a fist from the side popped him in the face.

  “Distraction is your enemy, brother.” Mike laughed, waving at Lacey. “Love you, sis.”

  The sparring continued for another hour. Dom was stronger when they stayed on their feet, but Mike ended up being better when they went to the mat. It was a pretty even match-up, but Dom didn’t employ his special training often.

  Finally, Mike told him to go shower and meet back at the house for pancakes and presents. Dom agreed without hesitation.

  As they walked out of the guy’s side, Lacey was still there, seemingly transfixed in her own world, rehearsing a routine. Dom wanted to stop and watch her, but he kept going.

  Mike leaned over and whispered to him, “She’s gonna kill in it in New York. I know she’ll get an offer from that company.” A worried expression crossed his face. “I worry about her, but maybe having you around her more will prevent weirdos from bothering her, right?”

  “Weirdos?” Dom asked.

  Mike grunted. “Look at her, she’s always having to keep the guys at bay.�
�� He patted Dom’s shoulder. “But you’re not a bad dude, so that’s a Christmas present for me.”

  Dom didn’t stop to talk to her as they walked out, but he turned and admired her talent. She leapt through the air, landed on her feet, and segued into a series of steps. Worry gnawed at him. Weirdo magnet? That was not comforting, thinking about her really going to New York.

  “Man, you have it bad for her, don’t you?” Mike asked.

  When Dom turned back around, he let out a light laugh. “She’s incredible,” he said a bit breathlessly.

  Mike kicked some snow. “Well, I guess we’ll see you at the performance in the spring, right?” His eyes lit up. “Are you coming to Snow Valley in the summer to visit at all? ’Cause you’re a good training partner.”

  Dom chuckled, not answering the question. “Hey, you’re not a bad training partner yourself.”

  “Better than I thought you’d be for a business major.” He got to the house and swung the door open.

  After Dom had showered and put on some clean clothes, he rushed over to the house. When he entered, he breathed in the sweet scents of pancakes, spices, and ham. More trappings of a made-for-television Christmas movie.

  Her mother was in a bright red and green apron, her hair tied up and her skin free of makeup. Her father wore an apron too and was flipping pancakes on a grill. “Well, are you done beating the tar out of each other?” her mother asked, and placed two plates on the counter in front of some barstools.

  Mike jerked a thumb at Dom. “He’s good.” He dropped to the barstool and guzzled back a glass of water in front of him. “Thanks, Mom and Dad.”

  It made Dom smile that he sounded like a kid. “Yes, thank you.”

  Her mother pointed to the stool. “Sit, Dom. Michael will give you some pancakes. I’m finishing these eggs. It’s so fun to have you kids home. I know Lacey will be coming shortly. We like to eat pancakes and then go sit by the tree for presents.” She winked at him. “Extended family will be coming over around three for dinner.”

  Lacey’s father balanced a platter of pancakes on one hand and set three on each of their plates. “These are fortified with protein, so don’t worry about your precious diet, Mike.”

  “Awesome.” Mike grabbed the butter and slogged a bunch on, following up with a ton of syrup. “So who’s all coming today, Mom? How many chairs and tables should I haul in from the basement?”

 

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