The judges (Jack, Sandy, and Jett) began walking around the tables, admiring the effort of their guests.
“You really are pretty good at those,” Miles said, his eyes raking over our very chic, white house that definitely stood out from the crowd.
“You don’t get talent like this by careening down a mountain strapped to a pair of skis,” I said.
“I think I’ve now successfully done both,” he teased, pulling me in for a friendly side hug while the judges deemed our house the winner.
I couldn’t put my finger on what made our afternoon feel so different. Miles was still Miles, but he’d been…sweeter. He felt more genuine. While in town, we didn’t hold hands or touch beyond Miles grabbing me and pulling me backward once so I could appropriately gawk at the store window display decked out for Christmas. I guess it was because we weren’t surrounded by people at the lodge who we needed to convince we were dating. But for a moment, our defenses had been down. My walls and his diverting humor had been put on the back burner while we made way for easy conversation and friendly stories. It felt as comfortable as it had strange—and with Miles of all people. It had only been two days since I’d arrived at the lodge, and three days earlier, I was under the impression that I strongly disliked Miles Taylor. My head seemed to enjoy this friendly direction we were headed, but my heart couldn’t help but be wary.Proceed with caution, it said.
EIGHTEEN
“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.”
Jane Austen- Pride and Prejudice
“Hiding out, Celery Stick?”Miles appeared suddenly at my side later that night. I was sitting at a table in the lodge, looking out at the crowd of dancers. Miles waited for no invitation and settled into the chair beside me. After our big gingerbread win, I had gone back to my cabin to shower and get ready for the dinner and barn dance. They called it a barn dance, though it was located in the lodge.
“Are you just worried your dancing skills will pale in comparison to mine?” He looked at my face, and his brow immediately furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
My eyes were on Mom and Russ on the dance floor, acting like lovestruck teenagers. Russ dipping her and kissing her neck was disgusting enough, but the way she laughed like a fourteen-year-old girl with her first crush made me physically ache. I couldn’t help but wonder if my mom ever thought about all of the nights dancing in the kitchen with my dad. Though my dad hadn’t been much of an adventurous soul, he’d had a romantic heart. There were so many nights when Chloe and I would pretend to gag as he zipped her dramatically around the dining table, kisses loud enough to drown out our squeals. Did she remember that? I wasn’t sure how a person’s emotions dealt with two loves in one lifetime, if that was truly what Russ was to her. People seemed to do it all the time, but my mind couldn’t grasp the sudden change. I could feel Miles following my gaze.
“Your mom looks happy,” he said after a long moment.
The last thing I needed was for Miles to tell me how wrong I was to feel what I was feeling, so I just said, “Yup. She does.”
He looked at my face again, but I refused to meet his eyes. He leaned back, his arms folded and his long legs sprawled out in front of him.
“How long have they been married?”
“Four months.”
He nodded, looking at the happy couple slow dancing to “I’ll be Home for Christmas.” “And how long since your dad passed away?”
I drew in a quiet breath, surprised at the hotness in my eyes. I widened them, forcing the sting to retreat. “It will be a year next week.”
The air grew thick around us—almost stifling. I felt him considering me, but I remained a statue, my gaze a blur of Russ and Elaine.
“It happened right after Christmas?” His voice was incredulous and soft, like a whisper feathering across my skin.
I couldn’t move or speak to acknowledge him, a dam inside of me threatening to burst. But there was nothing else to say, and he must have known that, because for the first time since I’d known him, he didn’t press me for anything else. So, we sat there for a long while, shoulders touching, staring at the whirl of laughter and people around us.
“Wanna dance, Olive Oil? For old time’s sake?”
I blinked up at Glenn’s sudden arrival in front of us. He was holding his hand out toward me, waiting for me to take it. My body tightened at the thought of dancing with him. Good manners had me wondering if I should say yes, but I had no desire to deal with Glenn right now.
Miles wrapped an arm around me, his fingers caressing the top of my shoulder. “Sorry, man. She was just about to dance with me.”
Glenn chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. Olive’s loss. Again.” He gave me a pointed look that gave the impression he was trying to play off his very honest thoughts as a joke but ended up failing miserably. He walked toward the drink table where he proceeded to lean against the wall with folded arms, wearing a carefully crafted bored expression.
“Maybe I had the shoulder thing all wrong. It’s kind of hot,” Miles whispered into my ear.
I leaned forward immediately. His arm fell loosely to his side while he laughed. “Not for you?”
Itwashot, but he wouldn’t hear that from me.
He stood and turned back to face me, holding out his hand. “Alright, I guess we gotta dance now. You ready?”