“Bingo.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll only agree to this if you do the bingo game with me.” He leaned in closer. “Not just the bingo. The blackout. I could really use a trip to Mexico.”
“The blackout?” I didn’t remember much about the bingo card, but two things stood out like a glaring neon sign in my brain. A mistletoe kiss and something about a polar bear plunge. Two very strong NOs from me.
“No.”
His eyebrows raised. “No?”
“Just the bingo. That’s more than enough time together.”
“You scared you won’t be able to resist me?”
“No. But isn’t there some sort of nepotism clause for you to do the blackout stuff?”
“I’m not an official employee. I’m just snagging a few free meals and helping out with the farm. If I was just a boyfriend and you ended up winning, they couldn’t stop it.”
“There was a mistletoe kiss on that card. No way.”
The grin on his face immediately set my heart pounding. “I promise I’ll make it good.”
My cheeks flushed annoyingly while I tamped down some runaway butterflies.
“We’ve already kissed,” I said, attempting to gain back an ounce of control. “We can just count that one.”
He looked at me like I was crazy. “My grandma could have kissed me better than that. And besides, there wasn’t any mistletoe.”
I guess my grandparent thoughts while my lips were pressed against his weren’t that far off.
“A tiny, harmless mistletoe kiss seems like a much better option than sharing a bed with a puking three-year-old,” he said, dangling his bait carefully.
My heart thudded to a stop. He was right. I didn’t have much of a choice, but the blackout thing was really throwing me. That changed the entire tune of the quiet, hide-away-in-a-cabin vibe I was going for. This would require time. And dates. Withhim.
When I looked up at him, grappling, he only smiled. “What will it be, Oliviana? Five days of luxury cabin living with your sexy new boyfriend, or more puking on a hide-a-bed with the family?”
Curse the day he came into my classroom and found a piece of mail on my desk with my full name. I think I preferred his vegetable tray references. I folded my arms and raised my chin. “You know, I could just blow the whistle on this whole thing and be all the happier for it.”
“And resist these fine hams?” He motioned to his back end. “I’m sure Glenn would be excited about that plan.”
I wanted to punch him. In the face. Cue visions of his nose bleeding all over that blue coat. My eyes glazed over as I allowed the fantasy to play out in my mind. But the choice was already made for me. I wouldn’t be making Chloe sleep on the pull-out couch. And I definitely wouldn’t be sleeping anywhere near my mom and Russ. I didn’t want to spend any time with Glenn alone. Looked like my Christmas vacation just got worse. And better. But mostly worse.
“Fine.”
A slow, Cheshire-cat grin crawled across his face just then, and my heart rate immediately sped up.
He reached out a hand toward me. My first instinct was to jerk away. He gave me an impatient look, and I realized he was holding out a hand to shake. I slowly brought my hand to his. His hand covered mine, giving it a shake. It felt warm, and rough, and manly. And way too excited.
“Why do I feel like I just made a deal with the devil?”
“You started this whole thing. I’m just giving it a better ending.” He gave my hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll pick you up in an hour to take you to your cabin, Celery Stick.”
ELEVEN
“Of all matches never was the like.”
William Shakespeare -The Taming of the Shrew