Her TV Bachelor Fake Fiancé: Christmas Romance Series

by Krey, Kimberly

  Canyon shuffled over to the counter where he’d retrieved the pickle and slushy for Cambria back on night one. There were no signs of snacks tonight though. Instead, five open ring boxes were lined along the counter. A small light from the top of each box illuminated the rings.

  With shoulders that felt more like noodles, he hunched over to inspect the rings, an array of thin, gold bands with modest diamonds. Simple and elegant, like her.

  The camera zoomed in as he reached for the one that stood out most. The band was slightly wider than the others, and a symbol had been etched into the band at either side of the diamond. It looked like a mere design at first, but as Canyon looked closer, he realized they were eternity symbols.

  He liked that. When people married, ideally they’d stay in love forever. He snatched that one off the counter and snapped the box shut.

  He wanted to stick around and ask Stan for advice, but the show probably wouldn’t allow it. Most likely, Stan had been one step ahead of him this whole time. Chances were, he’d already shot footage of the rings and the note so they could piece the clips in during the show.

  A quick nod in Stan’s direction, and Canyon headed for the door, but he paused there, fingers curled around the handle, and spun back around. Stan peeked out from his camera with wide eyes, then reached up and pressed a small button. The red blaring light turned off.

  “Huh?” he grunted.

  “What do we do after this if I propose? Do we really get to stay here the whole week?”

  Stan tipped his head to one side. “You’ll get to be together the whole time, like it says.”

  “But not here.”

  Stan turned his attention to his equipment where he disconnected one cord, and then the next.

  Canyon couldn’t blame him for not saying more. The guy didn’t want to lose his job for sharing information. But then it hit him: Family. If he proposed to her, it’d be time to meet the families. The idea had a list of pros and cons attached to it.

  Could he really bring her to meet his family? What if his suspicions about Mom were correct? He couldn’t risk exposing her problem for all the world to see.

  There isn’t a problem, Canyon. She’s clean. She’s still clean.

  Most likely his dad wouldn’t show, which was for the better; the two never had learned to make nice.

  His stomach dropped as another thought came to mind. Why was Canyon so caught up in details of what would happen next when what would probably happen—if he decided to propose at all—was Cambria laughing in his face?

  At last Canyon headed toward his room. He walked slowly, carefully, as if every portion of his body had been bruised.

  His bed had been made, and on top, another envelope awaited him— a letter-sized one. Great. No doubt it would contain stipulations attached to his “choices.” Details Marsha didn’t want the viewers to see. He tore it open quickly, opened the three-part fold, and fixed his gaze on the highlighted portion of the document, mumbling as he read.

  “If a proposal is made and the bachelorette says yes, you must stay engaged for no less than sixty days at which point you may either break up, get married, or continue with the engagement until the wedding date of your choice.”

  He popped open the ring box and imagined slipping the delicate looking ring onto Cambria’s finger. The smile that might form at her lips when she said I do.

  A vicious ache gripped hold of his gut. He was surprised to find how very much he wanted that to happen. The proposal, the wedding. But it was all happening too soon. There was no way Cambria would say yes.

  Unless her contract binds her somehow.

  It wouldn’t, he assured himself. Sure, Canyon was being compelled to get down on one knee, but inevitably, the choice was his. Just as the choice to say yes or no would be hers.

  But first, Canyon had to decide what he was going to do. As if there was really a choice. Canyon was nowhere near ready to say goodbye to Cambria. The real question was, what would Cambria do in return?

  Chapter 14

  Cambria couldn’t help but notice that Canyon was off tonight. Here, they’d spent a full week together now, and each day had only brought them closer to one another. Deeper into a meaningful relationship. One Cambria very much hoped to continue. She’d been positive Canyon felt the same. Until they’d returned to the cabin.

  She dropped her gaze to the trunkful of matching, antique decorations and reached for the tiny toy soldier. A quick glance at Canyon showed that he was deep in thought once more. The fifth time that evening. One minute the two had been talking and joking and acting fine, the next he was drifting off into a quiet space in his head.

  She only hoped the camera couldn’t detect how affected she was by it. In an attempt to keep things light, Cambria bumped Canyon’s hip with her own as she breezed past him.

  She figured he’d give her a smile, maybe a light chuckle in return, but instead Canyon reached out and grabbed her arm, stilling her for a moment.

  Cambria turned to face him, heart skipping as he held her gaze. His eyes widened slightly, as if he were seeing her for the first time that night.

  “Hi,” he said under his breath.

  She couldn’t explain why, but that single word, spoken in the rasp of his low voice, caused the ache in her heart to spread. But why? Where had it come from?

  “Hi,” she said in return. Her face flushed with heat.

  “Mind if we dance?” He lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “I mean,” he said against her skin, “may I have this dance, Miss?”

  Her heart made up for skipped beats now, pumping in excess as he looked at her through his lashes. She bit her bottom lip. “Sure.”

  The Carpenters’ version of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas floated gently over the room as Canyon slid a solid hand up Cambria’s back and pulled her close against him. Solid. Warm. Alluring.

  She pulled in a cautious breath, basking in the delicious scent of his aftershave, and sighed as he encouraged her to sway with him, taking small steps in between. Right, left and then again. Canyon turned just enough to nuzzle the tip of his nose into her neck.

  Goosebumps rippled over her arms at the feel of his warm breath at the sensitive spot. “Cambria,” he crooned under his breath. He pressed a hot, lingering kiss beneath her lobe.

  A gasp pulled at her throat a second before she gave into it, allowing her head to tip lazily to one side.

  Canyon kissed her there again, moving slowly over her throat, the length of her collarbone, and up the other side of her neck, his lips leaving a smoldering trail over every inch. He nibbled on her earlobe, sinking his teeth in slightly before chuckling low in his throat, the sound resonating through Cambria’s chest.

  “I’m not sure I can stop,” he admitted.

  Cambria wrapped her arms around him tighter and buried her face into his soft sweater. She wasn’t sure what to make of him tonight. Present one moment, absent the next.

  “We’re about to open packages from home,” Canyon said, referring to the boxes resting on the coffee table. “Any guesses at what will be inside?”

  She considered that. Lisa had instructed the couple to decorate the tree, then open the packages and discuss the items inside. “Since we’re supposed to be getting a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past, my guess is it’s something that will… represent that,” Cambria said.

  “Yeah,” Canyon slowed their steps, stopping altogether as the song came to an end. “Are you ready to do that?”

  She nodded, suddenly not feeling ready at all. She liked the fact that—until now—Canyon hadn’t seen her as little orphan Cambria. She didn’t want him making decisions based on pity. Beyond that, she’d been fortunate in life, considering everything she’d been through. But the truth was, she was really falling for Canyon. And she wanted to let him past the barriers she’d built up over time.

  He motioned to the couch. Between the crackling fire across the small room and the tiny glowing star lights on the tree, the
space had enough cozy light to go on for days.

  Once settled onto the couch beside her, Canyon motioned to the packages. “Would you like to go first?”

  “Sure.” She kept the words might as well get this over with off her tongue and tugged the string off the brown paper-wrapped package. The wrapping came off with ease, and soon Cambria was lifting the lid off the box. A hint of pink caught her eye first. She was used to seeing that shade of pink, with its little mice racing around the edges, in paper form only. But this… She reached a hand into the box and pulled out a bright pink bulb, her mother’s letter words scrawled over the front.

  Cambria brought a hand up to cover a gasp. Vicky had it made into an ornament. The idea of hanging mom’s blessed words on a tree every Christmas filled her with indescribable joy. Beside that rested another ornament. A wallet sized family portrait, where she stood, just nine years old, between her mom and dad. It was one she’d made back in the third grade. One that Aunt Vickie had taken great care of over the years.

  “Okay, so my past.” She looped the gold ribbon attached to the bulb around her finger and held it up. “I went to summer camp for the first time when I was twelve years old. Don’t ask me why.” She rolled her eyes. “I blamed my parents for the whole thing, but my mom insisted it was my idea since I liked that show The Parent Trap so much.” She shook her head and shot him a look. “Wait, have you even seen The Parent Trap?”

  Canyon had lounged into the seat in a way that said he probably didn’t need a whole lot of direction during a photo shoot. It was distracting. “No,” he said under his breath. “I haven’t seen it.”

  She nodded. “Someday. Anyway, I was super shy, hence the reason I don’t think it was my idea, and I hadn’t made so much as a friend throughout the entire first day. Of course, I didn’t participate in anything either, because I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself on the rock wall, or make an entire team lose because I’m too slow at untying ropes or something.

  “Anyway, that night, we all gathered around a campfire. The advisors passed out notes our parents had sent from home, and this is the one my mom sent. Well, the part that affected me most. That still affects me the most to this day.”

  Canyon sat up, cupped his hand behind hers to steady the swaying ornament, and squinted his eyes. “Anything worth having comes with a risk. Don’t play it safe, baby girl. Put yourself out there, make friends, and show people that bright, beautiful light of yours.”

  Hearing it spoken in Canyon’s deep, heavenly tone brought new depth to it. She imagined having him on her side. Cheering her on in her pursuits. As an equal.

  “That’s amazing,” he said. “I can see that you put that in practice since then.”

  She nodded, while running a finger along the edge of the family picture ornament, not wanting to tell him the next part.

  “And are these your parents, in this?” he asked, motioning to the one in the box.

  “Yep.” Cambria rested the bulb ornament back in the box before lifting the photo frame. It dangled on one of those hooks. A single strand of crocheted yarn framed the picture that had been simply glued onto a piece of cardstock.

  “Ah, see? These are my favorites, right here. How old were you when you made this?”

  “Third grade,” she said, warmed by the way Canyon’s face lit up at the sight. “Your mom’s beautiful. I can’t wait to meet her one day.”

  Cambria tightened her lips as her heart swelled with a fierce mix of emotion. Sadness that he never would meet her mom. But she also felt hope swelling within her. Canyon’s desire to be part of her life seemed genuine, sincere. And Cambria felt the same. She hadn’t felt this hopeful in a relationship since… ever.

  “Sorry, I should have said something like, I hope I get to meet her or something like that.” He shrugged. “That was assumptive of me.”

  “No.” Cambria shook her head. “I don’t mind that you said that. I like it, in fact. It’s just, what I haven’t told you yet…” Heat gushed into her cheeks and neck and chest. She cleared her throat, hating that she’d inadvertently built this up. “They were killed. In a car accident, actually, when I was fifteen.”

  “Oh, Cambria, I’m so sorry.” Canyon rested a hand flat on her back, began rubbing the length of it. With the other hand, he reached for the photo, pausing to catch her gaze. “Mind if I hold this?”

  “Not at all.” Hurry and pass, moment. Just hurry and pass.

  “Patrice and Brody Wilson,” she said softly. “That’s where I got my middle name.”

  “Cambria Patrice?” he asked.

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “That’s pretty.” Canyon hunched over the picture, studying it further. A sad-looking grin pulled at one side of his lips. “You guys look happy,” he said. “Did your parents get along?”

  It was such a natural question, yet Cambria couldn’t recall anyone ever asking her that before. Not after they found out they’d died. Death always carried with it that ring of finality that most people left it alone and moved on.

  “Yes,” she said. “In fact…” A chuckle snuck in and took her by surprise as a new recollection came to mind. One she’d almost forgotten. “My neighbor, when she came to get this picture of us in front of the tree, was this ornery old lady name Mrs. Frew. She got all bugged with my dad because he was twirling my mom around the room to her favorite song.” Cambria sniffed and gave into another laugh. “And when he let go of my mom, he snatched old Mrs. Frew by the hand and gave her a twirl next, began dancing her around the room. And my mom, she just laughed and laughed at that. She adored him. She really, really did. And he felt the same.”

  She’d been so caught up in the memory that she’d almost missed Canyon wiping at his face with the back of his hand. He sniffed next, and then turned to Cambria, moisture glistening in his eyes. “I’m so glad you have good memories of them, Cambria.” He threw his arms around her and pulled her in for a tight, all-encompassing embrace.

  Warmth pulsed through her in waves of hope, comfort, and love. Canyon gave her all of those things. “I am too,” she said. “Thank you.”

  He rocked with her that way, back and forth, before he kissed her on the cheek. “Let’s get these hung on the tree, shall we?”

  As they looked for the perfect place, Cambria told him about Double V. How kind they’d been to take her in, even though their own boys were grown.

  “And she’s the one who runs the recovery center now?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Canyon nodded, his face thoughtful. “I really hope that…” He paused there, seeming to remember the cameras, “the person I know, the one who’s struggled with it, I hope that they never battle that addiction again. But it’s good to know that, if they do, there’s hope.”

  She nodded. “Always.”

  Canyon was next. His box held an ornament a lot like the one he described while talking of the future. A wreath with colored pastas glued to it. Dotted lines marked the shape of a bow, indicating where the pasta piece should go, but there, from a good half-inch below, beamed Canyon’s bowtie pasta.

  Cambria grinned. “This is the cutest thing ever. Did your dad really point out the flaw?”

  “Oh, yeah. First thing he said when he opened it on Christmas morning. ‘We can have you fix that before it goes on the tree,’” Canyon said in a mimicking tone. “But what stands out to me about this one,” he said, lifting it out of the box, “is that my mom—who didn’t stand up to my dad a whole lot—spoke right up.” Canyon’s expression turned wistful then. “She told him that I had the rest of my life to put things in their proper places and that she wanted that ornament hanging on her tree exactly, exactly how it was.”

  Warmth swelled in her chest as she considered what he’d shared about his mom. “Vickie has this saying: the word strength looks different on different people. What might be commonplace for one woman, might be the biggest feat for another.” She smiled, sensing how much that moment meant to Canyon, and probably his mom t
oo. “I bet your mom is an incredible woman.”

  The warm, twinkling lights reflected in his eyes as he answered. “She sure is.” He nodded as he set his eyes back on the box.

  “So what’s that other one in there?” she asked.

  Canyon tipped his head back and laughed. “It’s kind of embarrassing.” He sandwiched the ornament between his hands.

  “No way,” Cambria said. “Let’s see it.”

  “Rain made this for me last year.”

  “Oh, how sweet.” She recalled the stories Canyon shared at the ski resort of his little sister. Had sensed the great admiration he had for her. “Now let’s see it.”

  Canyon lowered his hands onto his lap and pried them apart. There, resting in the open face of his palms, was a miniature fashion magazine. Filling the front page was one of Canyon’s most popular spreads. Cambria reached for it while asking permission with the lift of her brow.

  He relented with a shrug, eyes pasted on her as she slowly lifted it from his hands. A miniature binding held wallet-sized pages from several different shoots. Her heart picked up that fluttering beat as she flipped through them. Dang, would she ever get used to how attractive he was? She was convinced though, that it had a whole lot to do with the person he was on the inside. No one else could generate the kind of energy Canyon gave off with one simple look. That stormy expression that promised there was so much happening in that head of his. Evident in the photo on the next page, a brooding expression that caused a haunting ache in her heart for him. And a yearning. She had the sudden desperation to learn about every detail that made him who he was. Because somehow, despite all of his accomplishments, Canyon was unassuming, generous, and kind.

  She turned the page reluctantly, sad to give up the view of one image, yet anxious to see the next. Urban outfits in one spread, formal wear in the next. There was even an underwear ad she’d never seen before. He had a half-grin in this one, and Cambria wished she could identify it. Had someone made a comment about him standing on a rooftop in a pair of boxer briefs without a care in the world? Had the photographer told him to think about something? Or someone? Whatever it was, she was positive she’d recognize the smile if he was suddenly placed in a different body. It was just… so him.