Chapter Sixteen
A beautiful sight, we re flirting tonight. Pretending in a winter wonderland.
Ivy
I can t stop sighing and smiling as we leave Mr. Gebhard s house and make our way back to the truck.
What a great day. Delivering baskets. Meeting lots of sweet people—and a few weird ones. Playing the piano for Mr. Gebhard. Helping him organize his medications for the week.
I couldn t help myself when I glanced in the kitchen and noticed all the pill bottles strewn across his counter. Maybe I ll check back in on him before I leave town. See how he s doing. Have another go at his piano.
What s that smile about? Beau asks me when we reach the truck.
Am I smiling again? Guess so. Just thinking I may have to add another requirement for my future husband.
Six four with blue eyes? Beau opens the passenger side door for me.
Piano player, I say, sliding into the seat.
What about ukelele player?
You know how to play the ukelele?
Why, Ivy West... Beau claps a hand over his heart. Are you picturing me as your future husband?
Walked into that one, didn t I? I thought you meant—oh, forget it. I reach for the seat belt. Mind closing the door? I m freezing.
I know some pretty good ways to warm you up. Don t worry, once we re married—
I close the door myself.
He s still grinning when he climbs in on his side of the truck and grabs his phone from where he left it on the console.
After staring at the screen a few seconds, he starts up the truck.
Mom just texted. Said Dad s not back with Nana yet.
Since we ve still got a little time before supper, why don t we go check out the Christmas lights?
There s a big display not far from here.
What about the dogs? Shouldn t we check on them?
He shifts the truck into gear and pulls away from Mr. Gebhard s house. They re fine. Mom said Crystal stopped by the house to help keep them out of trouble for a while.
Crystal. That s right. The girl next door. Beau s future wife. What am I still doing out here with Beau when he s supposed to be falling in love with Crystal? Why don t you drop me off back at the house so I can stay with the dogs while you and Crystal go look at the lights?
Beau frowns like I just suggested he give up baseball to play piano full-time instead. Why would I take Crystal when I want to see the lights with you? Besides, we re already at the park.
We are?
We are. My mouth hangs open the moment Beau takes a right and a multitude of colors flashes before us. Santa pulling a sleigh. Reindeer leaping. A snowman waving his hat. Elves with gift boxes. Giant candy canes. So many lights. Everywhere. Even the trees are all twinkling.
Still want me to take you home?
Well, I suppose since we re already here... I ll figure out a way to make Beau fall in love with Crystal later. Right now not even Santa and all his reindeer could drag me away from this magical sight.
Beau parks in a small parking lot next to a baseball field. To the left is the park entrance to a walkway that circles around a pond with little lanterns lighting up the path. A bridge covered in white lights crosses the center of the pond.
My eyes are still trying to take everything in as I unlatch my seat belt. Wow. Who puts this together? Clark Griswold?
Not too bad for a little town, is it?
I m surprised we re the only ones here.
Beau shrugs and shuts off the ignition. I m sure not going to complain about having the place to ourselves. Ready to take a stroll?
I clamber out of the truck, more than ready. Shoot.
What?
My phone s back at the house. I can t take any pictures. Slipping on my mittens, I circle around the front of the truck to meet Beau. Lucy s obsessed with Christmas lights. She d go crazy over this.
Beau tugs his phone from his pocket. I still have her number. I can send her a picture or two. He aims his phone toward the park entrance, but I tug his arm down.
Not here. Inside the park. And we need to be in it. How about over there? By that snowman? That ll be a cute picture to send.
Twenty minutes later our cute picture has turned into an all-out photo shoot.
Beau s grinning. Are we sure it s Lucy who goes crazy over Christmas lights?
Get this one, I say, cackling and running through the snow to get to the display of reindeer. Are you getting this one?
Oh, I m getting it, says Beau as he holds up his phone to snap me pretending to sit on a flashing Rudolph as I wave my stocking hat like a cowboy on a bull.
Have we gotten one with the bridge in the background yet? I race toward the bridge, hearing Beau s chuckle follow me.
I think that might be the only picture we haven t taken yet.
When he catches up to me, he wraps an arm around me, and we huddle together so he can take a selfie of us in front of the glowing bridge. I ll take that kiss now.
What ki—oh. Right. The cheek kiss I promised. Fine. A deal s a deal, I suppose. Twisting my face, I press a quick kiss to his dimple. The same moment he snaps a picture.
Let me see it, I say as soon as he lowers his arm holding the phone.
The side of my face that s visible in the picture is flushed from the cold and all the running around, but I m not sure I ve ever seen myself look happier.
I look like... well, a kid at Christmas.
And Beau, of course, looks like Beau. His sandy blond hair is curling out from beneath his stocking cap.
His blue eyes and dimple are both popping.
In other words—he looks perfect. Handsome. Charming. The man couldn t take a bad photo if he tried. Don t send that last one to Lucy.
Why not?
It might give her the wrong idea. Almost looks like we re a real couple there, I say with a little isn t that ridiculous? laugh.
Beau s right dimple makes an even bigger appearance as he grins at the phone screen. Almost? Try definitely. This is worthy of a Christmas card. It screams real couple more than any photo I ve ever seen.
I d say that s going a bit too far. I start heading back toward the truck.
Guess we ll see what Lucy says cuz... I just sent it to her.
Of course he did. And part of me is a little relieved because now I can ask Lucy to send the picture to me. Not that I ll ever admit that to Beau. I shake my head as if I m annoyed at him and keep walking.
His shoulders lift in an exaggerated shrug as he catches up to me with his hands buried inside his pockets. Don t you want Lucy to know how our relationship is progressing? She is one of our matchmakers after all.
We are not in a relationship, my dear.
My dear? I like the sound of that.
It was meant to sound condescending.
Sounded sexy to me. Anytime you want to admit you ve got the hots for me, I m ready.
I m not admitting anything.
So you do have the hots for me, you just don t want to admit it.
I press my lips together, afraid of what all I may admit at the moment. Obviously the Christmas lights are flaring up my symptoms again with all their bright-colored yuletide cheer and romance.
Okay, okay, okay, Beau says with a laugh as he wraps a hand around my elbow to slow me. I see you re pleading the fifth, but be honest with me for a minute here. What if I was a teacher?
We stop walking and turn to face each other next to a display shaped like overly large Christmas light bulbs. What s that matter? You aren t.
I know, but can we just pretend for one minute? What if I was a teacher when we met back in September? What would have happened? Come on, just play along with me here.
I know I really shouldn t go there, but I can t seem to stop myself. No harm in pretending, right? I suppose I would ve given you my number instead of Lucy s. And hoped that you d call— after you were done being my patient, of course.
Of course. And you better believe I would ve called. I would ve asked you out on a date as soon as I could. Then what?
Then... I don t know. He s standing so close it s hard to think straight.
I have to tilt my head back just to look at him.
The nice thing about his size is he makes a good wind buffer.
That s the only reason I m not cold right now.
Has nothing to do with the little burst of heat rippling through me because of the way he s caressing my face with his blue-eyed gaze. I suppose I would ve said yes.
Let s pretend we re out on that date right now. What then?
Then... When he cocks his head to the side and wets his lips, I apparently can t stop my next words any more than I could stop my need for a photo shoot in a cute park full of Christmas lights. I d want you to kiss me.
He holds his breath. Or maybe I m holding mine. How long can two people stand out in the cold holding their breath? It s not like we re Navy SEALs. One of us needs to kiss something. I mean do something. I mean... I don t know what I mean.
I rise on my tiptoes the same moment Beau leans down. Our lips meet in a kiss as gentle and magical as a falling snowflake. Disappears just as quickly too.
Good thing, since we re only pretending.
We are only pretending, right? Beau s mouth hovers above mine. I don t know if we re pretending.
We are! I take a step back. Because Beau s not a teacher. He s a baseball player. A baseball player. I take another step back.
Well, I say with a shaky laugh. Guess that answers that. Back to reality now. Where s the truck? I spin in a circle trying to locate the truck. Then spin again. Two spins later I still haven t located the truck, but I can at least blame my dizziness on the spinning instead of Beau s kiss.
When I spot the snowman with the top hat, I start walking that direction.
Ivy—
I walk faster. We really need to get back and check on the dogs.
He catches up to me in two seconds. Of course he does. He has the walking stride of a giraffe. Just tell me one thing, he says, jumping in front of me so I have no choice but to either stop or collide with his chest. Maybe his lips.
I scrunch my eyes shut. No more games, Beau.
Just remind me again why we can t make this real?
It takes me a solid five seconds to remember my own name, let alone why we can t make this real.
But once I do, I can t spit out the reasons fast enough.
I don t want a husband who s gone all the time.
I don t want to be moving around all the time.
I don t want to end up like my parents. I don t want to see our family split up.
Our kids will miss you too much. I ll miss you too much.
I just want to stick to the plan, and why on earth are you smiling right now?
I ask when I finally open my eyes to see him grinning at me.
He is. He s trying to hide it by pressing his lips together, but his dimple is out and his blue eyes are glowing more than the Christmas lights. You can t just say our kids and not expect me to smile.
I m heading back to the truck now.
If you want to elope so we can get started sooner rather than later on making those kids, I m not opposed to that.
Give me the keys. You re walking.