“I think that’s a good plan. All the local businesses are excited about putting together their contributions to the gifts. It’s a good way to bring in new traffic.”

“Maybe even let them sell the tickets in their shops that weekend.” Her mother suggests.

She smiles, and her dark brown eyes crinkle. I admire the slash of white that stands out against her burgundy-painted lips.

Her heart-shaped face is seared into my memories next to the spray of freckles that travel across the bridge of her upturned nose. I adore the slightly curvedelf earsI’ve teased her about her entire life. Have I been fooling myself about my feelings where December is concerned?

“That’s it in a nutshell,” Dec summarizes. “I’m focused on making things as personalized as possible. I wanted props that we could use repeatedly to create a timeless feeling.” Her face lights up as she speaks, and I can’t help but smile.

“The building will help with that too,” her mother adds. “You did an excellent job bringing this together. I’m impressed.” Her mother nods her approval. “I can’t wait to attend.”

They hug. “Now I have to get to the shop. I’m expecting some new inventory for which I want to create a display.”

Mrs. Oliver walks over to me and collects her own hug. “You’ve always been family, Manny. Maybe you’ll make it more official soon?”

I smile. “You never know.”

I step back and watch her walk away. Head full, I brace myself for the conversation we need to have. When her mother walks away, I glance down at my guilty-looking bestie.

“You want to tell me why you pulled me into your gingerbread house of lies, Dec?” Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her to me, and she relaxes.

“I’m sorry.” She bites her lower lip. “Mom was going on about how she was worried about ending up alone, comparing me to Gloria and Angel.” Her nose wrinkles. “The next thing I know, I’m telling her I’m dating.”

I shake my head. “You can’t keep letting her wind you up.” I guide her past the front desk of the welcome center and out of the building,

“You know that’s easier to say than to do.” She points a finger at me.

“Yeah. I know.” I nod, thinking of my mother. “A warning would’ve been nice, though.”

“What do we do?” She tugs at a loose curl, brow furrowed.

“Now you ask me?” I lift an eyebrow, and she scowls. I laugh and give her a squeeze. “We ride it out. I’m not going to out you. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone.”

“Me either. That was part of the problem,” she grumbles.

“It’ll be nice to have a holiday where we aren’t being harassed about our single status.”

“See. I did us a favor.”

I scoff. “Is that what you were doing? I thought it was lying and avoiding.”

“Takes one to know one. What do we tell everyone?”

“Oh. You want to include me in the planning finally?”

“Emanuele, come on.”

I smirk. “That we were testing things out and didn’t want to rock boats if things didn’t pan out.”

“And how long have we been an us?”

“A little over six months. It gives us enough time to be settled in, come out and yet, still be new.”

“Do you think we can do it? Make people believe we’re together?” I pause in the alcove of trees.

I place a finger under her chin and tilt her face up. “Do you think that’s going to be a problem?” I challenge her.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.


Tags: Shyla Colt Romance