Her TV Bachelor Fake Fiancé: Christmas Romance Series

by Krey, Kimberly

  Canyon swore he heard Cambria stifle a laugh. Sure, America had seen him get a face slap but having this guy bring it up made heat rush to his cheeks like he’d been slapped all over again.

  “I’d like you to follow this simple pattern,” the doctor continued. “Start by addressing her by name, then apologize for the way you wronged her, which you should mention as well. Lastly, you’ll explain to her, using just one final word, the emotion that drove you to say the hurtful thing you said to her. Don’t elaborate beyond that. This is a very powerful tool because it allows Cambria to explore that emotion and discover, on her own, how that led to what you said.” He turned to Cambria. “You’re more likely to understand Canyon if you get there on your own versus having him spell it out for you. Understand?”

  Cambria pasted on a smile. “Sure.”

  Dread washed over Canyon as he picked up the measuring cup and looked down at the recipe card. One word? What should he say the emotion was? He sunk the cup into the flour and leveled the top with the back of a knife the way Mom and Rain always did. Measuring flour wasn’t foreign to him, but speaking of the very topic he’d been compelled to keep quiet about for years was.

  A puff of white clouded in the bowl as he plopped in the final scoop. He sighed. You can do this. “Cambria…”

  “Be sure to look at her,” the doctor urged.

  A middle-aged couple controlled the cameras. Stan, with his long beard, and Tina with her head full of dreads.

  The pair zoomed in on both Canyon and Cambria alike. Cambria looked beautiful today. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail. Cheeks that looked pink against her flawless, olive-toned skin, and eyes that revealed genuine curiosity. She wanted to know how sincere he was. Canyon wanted to know the same thing. For now, there wasn’t a whole lot of emotion available. He was in some sort of autopilot get-this-over-with mode.

  “I’m sorry that I hurt you by changing my story,” he said softly. “I didn’t say what I said to get you to kiss me. I just…” He cleared his throat. How could he say this without saying it? How could he tell Cambria that there might be a problem, but that he wasn’t willing to talk about it on live TV? Beyond that, he wasn’t exactly sure there was a problem; it wasn’t the easiest thing to detect when he was gone so often. But Rain would know…

  “I wasn’t lying when I shared what I shared with you on the swings. But I was, unknowingly, probably exaggerating the severity of my own situation.”

  Cambria lifted her chin as she listened, seeming to survey his face.

  “Very good,” Dr. Hallinger said. “Now lastly, pinpoint the emotion that caused you to say the cruel thing you said. Just one word. Resist the urge to elaborate.”

  Quiet fell over the kitchen. Cambria glanced down at the counter before fixing her eyes back on him. Canyon’s heart skipped as a word shot to his mind. Just as quickly, it stumbled off his tongue.

  “Fear.”

  At the sound of the single word, Cambria’s eyes widened. Her brows lifted, and she tightened her lips, as if she was pinching back a response.

  “Excellent!” the therapist cried. “Now, Cambria, the ball is in your court. If you’re willing to accept Canyon’s apology, we’ll continue with the dish and add the rest of our ingredients. However,” he evened a stern look at her, “if you’re not prepared to accept it, we may as well abandon the effort altogether. Because just as these pancakes will be a total flop without flour, so will your relationship be a bust without trust.”

  Canyon forced his breaths to slow as he awaited Cambria’s reply, wondering if she’d simply walk away and be done with it. At the idea, a conflicting storm of relief and disappointment brewed within him.

  “Let me add something before you reply,” the therapist said. “And this is crucial: If you are willing to forgive this issue, you’ll need to leave the incident in the past and not bring it up again.”

  Cambria’s lip twisted. Her fingers tapped. And at last she pulled in a loud breath. “I’m supposed to just forget that he did that?”

  “Not forget,” the counselor said. “Forgive, and then leave it in the past. As in, don’t bring it up and punish him for it later. You can follow a recipe to the T, but if you persist on removing ingredients you’ve already added along the way—like forgiveness— it’ll just be a big old mess.”

  “True,” Cambria said softly, her gaze set on the bowl.

  “And while you won’t forget about the incident,” Doctor Hallinger said, “your recollection of the insult will fade as you gradually replace it with more positive interactions. So, what will it be, Cambria? The decision is yours.”

  Canyon wished that he had on a pair of dark shades. He’d done enough modeling to know that what he was thinking on the inside showed on the outside. It had helped him channel specific themes as he worked with photographers and designers alike. He’d been told he was very good at emoting through his expression. The problem was, he wasn’t very good at hiding it. And what he felt right then was an irrational sense of desperation. Because suddenly, he wanted very badly for Cambria to say yes.

  He glanced up, willed the aching iceberg in his chest to melt, and watched Cambria bite at her lip with a furrowed brow. Crickets would be chirping by now if it weren’t for the sudden blizzard happening beyond the glass.

  The fact that she wasn’t quick to answer showed how conflicted she was. But it also suggested that —if Cambria did offer forgiveness— she wasn’t doing so in vain. She would mean it.

  At last she nodded and licked her full, pouty lips. Lips he’d once kissed, he reminded himself.

  “Okay,” Cambria said with another nod. She looked Canyon straight in the eye. “I forgive you for hurting me.”

  The words were like a sedative, offering sweet release to the tight set of his shoulders, the stiff lock of his neck, and the hovering anticipation in his mind. The iceberg turned into a warm, melted puddle in his chest. Yes. She’d forgiven him.

  It’s just for show. She’s not here because she’s interested in you, Canyon. She’s here because Marsha knows how to draw up an offer people can’t refuse.

  Which meant Cambria was just playing her part. He hated how much disappointment that acknowledgement brought.

  But what was he doing? Canyon scolded himself for asking such a dumb question. Had he really forgotten so soon? He was there for one reason and one reason only: To make his little sister happy. It would get him out of a lawsuit, too, but that was a distant second on his list, and not nearly enough reason for him to torture himself this way.

  As they finished making the batter, Cambria adding ingredients in turn, Canyon tried to believe that was all he wanted, a way out of this mess. But as Canyon and Cambria moved in closer like the doctor promised, her sweet scent more tempting than the rum flavoring, Canyon couldn’t deny that suddenly, he wanted a whole lot more.

  * * *

  “Well that was interesting,” Cambria said as she finished up her plate.

  The camera crew whirled to catch Canyon’s face as he crunched on a piece of bacon. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Very.”

  Cambria smiled, envying how comfortable Canyon seemed to be with the camera team so close while he ate. Not only was Cambria starving once they sat down to eat some of the best pancakes she’d ever tasted, she’d forced herself to take small, careful bites, unwilling to embarrass herself on TV. Of course, some of the bachelorettes refused to eat on camera at all. At least Cambria hadn’t taken things that far.

  Inwardly, she was still mentally digesting Canyon’s apology. Fear. The doctor had told him not to elaborate, but Cambria had sure wanted him to. Fear of what? Of looking like a giant jerk for lying?

  But then something strange had happened, just like Dr. Hallinger said it would: Cambria began to fill in the blanks herself. How many times had Victor said he hadn’t wanted to admit Vickie had a problem? About a million.

  It went without saying then, that Canyon would regret admitting to the problem, right? Heck, he’d probably
talked himself out of believing it, and when Cambria pressed the issue by offering to help, he lashed out. In a way, it made the gorgeous, seemingly impenetrable man seem more relatable.

  She glanced over at him as she considered that. His stormy blue eyes were set on the sight beyond the windows. A slight furrow at his brow said he was thinking on something as well. It was hard to decipher just what made a person so handsome. The perfect set of his dark brows, the squared bridge of his nose, or the look in those eyes that said he knew most women wanted him. Cambria hated just how true the statement was, whether Canyon was really thinking it or not. It’s why he’d made a name for himself in the male modeling world despite the fact that he often had one foot in and one foot out of that world. He had yet to sign a long-term contract with any brand, she once read in an interview. “Who knows if I’ll want to be doing this tomorrow?” he’d been quoted as saying. “More likely than not, I’ll go back to my real job of selling pills and leave the modeling world behind.” And yet that statement hadn’t stopped the jobs from pouring in. Designers were dying to make use of him while they could.

  Something occurred to her, a small thought at first, but just as it began to grow, Lisa Throw stepped onto the scene. “Cut tape,” she hollered while stepping in front of them. She stuffed a pink, glitter-covered phone into the pocket of her jeans and folded her arms. “Hate to do that with these two jabber birds talking away, but it sounds like we’re going to have to delay the date we had planned for today.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder where the blizzard blew outside. “Was supposed to be an open horse sleigh ride. As funny as it might be to see you two ducking for cover while snow pelts your faces, the cameras wouldn’t catch much of it.”

  Cambria’s eyes drifted over to Canyon. He gave her an is-it-just-me-or-was-that-comment-totally-nuts? look. Cambria couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie.

  “To avoid getting stuck in this, the crew and I have been ordered to pack up, which means—as per your contracts—the two of you need to avoid each other until we come back.”

  Canyon nodded knowingly. Cambria did the same. That’s something she had read. No communicating when the camera crew was gone, which was normally between the hours of 1 a.m. and 7 a.m.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and say goodbye now. One of you can remain here in the kitchen to clean up, since maid service won’t make it through the storm, and the other can go off and do their own thing.”

  Cambria had barely registered what she’d said when Canyon spoke up. “I’ll clean up.”

  Lisa arched a thin brow. “Oh? Well, isn’t that nice. Perhaps we should’ve gotten that on video.” She glanced over her shoulder to see Stan, the bearded man, stuffing his camera into a utility bag. “Or not. Well, Cambria…” Lisa swept a hand toward the kitchen doorway and nodded. “If you’ll take your exit, we’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” Cambria said, feeling like a scolded child. She pushed the chair back and stood.

  “See you tomorrow,” Canyon said. He set those piercing blue eyes on her. They were reflective enough that she could see the broad span of the outdoor view in them, and it was beautiful. A smile pulled at one corner of his lips.

  Her heart felt like it had just hopped onto a sled, speedily swooshing down a snowy hill while the wind blew. “See you in the morning,” she said. “Oh, and thanks for offering to clean up.”

  “You’re welcome. I secretly just want to make more pancakes. Those were really good.”

  She grinned. “I know, right? Make some for me while you’re at it, will you? I’ll come eat them for lunch later.” She shot a look at Lisa. “Alone.”

  “Yes,” Canyon said. He reached up, ran the back of his knuckle over her wrist as that smile came back. “No touching, talking, or telepathically communicating while the camera crew is gone.”

  A laugh snuck up her throat. “Ah, telepathy is out, huh? Is that your addition, or was that in the contract?”

  “Guess,” he said.

  He was flirting with her. Right in front of Lisa and the busy crew. Cambria’s heart was still flying on that sled. Flying over bumps now. “I’m going to say it was your own personal touch.”

  He held her gaze for a blink, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Right. So that means we actually can do that, since they foolishly left it out of the contract. But since I can’t touch you while they’re gone, I’ll wish you a good afternoon, evening, and goodnight.” His hand circled her wrist, and suddenly he was bringing her hand to his mouth. He kissed a spot on the back of her hand while looking at her through his lashes. “Until tomorrow.” Her hand tingled beneath the spot, and so did her heart.

  “Okay, now I’m really wishing we hadn’t stopped the cameras from rolling,” Lisa whined. “Cambria, would you go on out before we miss anything else? Save it for tomorrow, Romeo.”

  “See you in the morning,” Cambria said, and hurried out of the kitchen. Yet just as she made her way to her bedroom, ready to dive into one of the novels she’d brought, a thought occurred to her. Canyon had been doing all of that, flirting and offering to do something kind, while the cameras weren’t even rolling. She couldn’t help but wonder just what that meant.

  Chapter 7

  Canyon rolled his eyes in irritation as he plopped yet another burnt pancake onto the stack. What was the problem here? A few short hours ago, he and Cambria had managed to make a stack of perfect pancakes. Yet somehow, he’d made a bunch of burnt ones with gooey centers.

  He glanced down at the flame beneath the pan before eyeing the control knob. Medium. He’d tried lower heat, he’d tried higher heat, all of it had failed him. Canyon couldn’t help but wonder if this was a setup. Perhaps a hidden camera captured all of his failed attempts. He drizzled more oil in the pan and sighed as it warmed.

  And just why did he care so much? Was he really crushing on Cambria again so soon? The answer could be found in the hand-washed dishes and new bowl filled with batter. Canyon could hardly believe he’d messed things up with her. But he shouldn’t let his feelings show just yet. It was probably best if she didn’t know how easily he fell under her charms. It was enough that all of America knew.

  “Smells good in here.” Cambria’s lovely voice floated in like a song.

  Canyon jerked a look toward the doorway. “Whoa,” he said as his face filled with warmth. He’d just been thinking about her, after all. Could she read that on his face? He rolled his shoulders back and forced himself to act like he wasn’t affected. “Breaking the rules, huh?”

  Cambria strolled over to the cabinet in her dark jeans, fuzzy socks, and loose sweater that hung gently off one smooth-looking shoulder. She pulled a glass from the cupboard, stepped over to the fridge, then leaned on one hip as she filled the glass with water.

  “Actually, you broke the rules first by talking to me just now. They didn’t say we couldn’t be in the same room together.”

  Actually, he was pretty sure that’s exactly what it said, but there was no need to tell her that. “Okay,” he said, lifting his chin. “But you answered. You’re quite the rebel.”

  Cambria brought the glass to her lips and looked at him over the rim. “I guess you bring that out in me.”

  Fire roared low in his belly at her words. Not to mention the look she gave him as she said it. Bedroom eyes if he ever saw them, followed by the slight lift of one brow. And he’d be danged if it didn’t get his blood racing. He’d almost forgotten how affecting she was. Unlike that of the other bachelorettes he’d dated throughout the show, Cambria’s flirtatious gestures felt well-earned. He had to work for things with her, and he liked it as much as he hated it.

  “I think those are a little burnt.”

  “Huh?”

  Cambria set her glass down and approached the plate of charred pancakes.

  “Oh, I know. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’m using the same oil we used, keeping it on medium heat and everything…”

  She glanced at the pan. “How long
are you leaving the oil in the pan?”

  “Like, sixty seconds maybe.”

  She tightened her lips over a grin. “That’s why,” she said, the cutest laugh sneaking in through the words. “You’re burning the oil before the batter even gets in there.” Cambria stepped around the butcher block with her eyes set on the pan. Canyon held very still as she slipped an arm up and over his shoulder; his pulse, on the other hand, shot into action once more.

  “Just going to flip on this fan,” she mumbled. The hum of the vent fan kicked on. “And then we’ll wipe this up with a paper towel and let the pan cool for just a second.”

  Canyon watched as she did that very thing, tossing the wadded up paper towel into the garbage and setting the pan on the back burner. She proceeded to pick up the small trash bin, step over to the back door, and set it out in the blizzard. Flakes of snow swooshed in with the breeze, a few clinging to Cambria’s hair as she pushed the door closed. She grabbed a fistful of her sweater and brought it to her nose.

  “We’re going to smell like burnt oil,” she said.

  Canyon gulped as she stepped back over to him.

  “Now we set this back on the heat, drizzle fresh oil on it, and let it set for maybe five or ten seconds before spooning on the batter.” She glanced over at the pathetic stack and furrowed her brows. “Did you double the batch?”

  He nodded. Cleared his throat. Then forced out a response. “Yeah.” It came out scratchy so he cleared his throat once more. “I figured I’d screw up pretty good.”

  Cambria tipped her head to the side and lifted a corner of the pancake with the spatula. “Looks like you mixed the batter perfectly.” With that, she shoved the spatula beneath the pancake and flipped it over. It was perfect. Golden along the edges, warm brown on the surface.

  “So what have you been doing the last few hours?” he asked.

  Cambria shrugged. “Reading.” She rested the finished pancake on a new plate, drizzled more oil onto the pan, then poured on the batter once more. Already it smelled better. In fact, Cambria might have thought she’d taken on the odor from the kitchen, but Canyon couldn’t agree. He could smell that sweet, gingerbread scent of her from where he stood. He could picture doing this together late one night after getting the kids to bed. They’d drench a stack with rum syrup, then share it while lounging in front of the fireplace.