21. Lacie
LACIE
Any minute now, the perky receptionist would lose some of her pluck and start to get annoyed at all of my pestering about this radio business. But to my surprise—and relief—Junie was her friendly self when I caught up with her on the way to the spa.
She welcomed my questions and even displayed surprise and intrigue when I showed her the invitation that had appeared.
“Ooo, meeting Santa’s reindeer? Are you going to go?” Junie asked.
“I—” I wasn’t sure what to say. Did that mean Junie bought into this?
She thought they would really be Santa’s reindeer?
“I don’t know. Doesn’t it seem a little random?”
“Sure it does, but random is almost always the perfect qualifier for potentially amazing.” Junie laughed at whatever look was on my face and passed the card back to me. “What’s the worst that can happen? Either there’s no reindeer, or there will be. Either you may get more answers, or you’ll be right where you are now.”
She had a point. Clearly, Junie believed the radio’s magical impact was factual, and I couldn’t exactly deny it.
I had no concrete evidence the radio was behind the sudden marriage-warp Jared and I found ourselves in, but what other explanation was there? If anything, maybe we could learn something with the reindeer that could shed more light on what was going on.
Talking to Junie helped me relax that much more, allowing me to enjoy my spa treatments. I started out with a pedicure, followed by a facial, and ended with a relaxing massage.
The more I thought about things as the woman with thick eyeliner kneaded her hands into the muscles on my back, working away tension, the more confused I got.
Jared had promised me Christmas, but from the things he’d said after he’d kissed me, it sounded like he wanted much more than that.
But later that night, he’d talked about Tia, about not being able to move on with someone else if I was still in his life.
Which one was it?
Did he mean what he said when he’d kissed me? Did he even know how he felt?
How could I respond to his feelings when they seemed to be all over the place?
The woman drove her thumbs into my back, and a new strand of clarity came to light:
We needed to go home.
That was the solution.
I knew he would argue against the suggestion, but things had to go back to normal if we left Harper’s Inn. I didn’t need to see the Event Center. Not really. What I needed was to preserve whatever sense of normalcy we had left.
Surely, that could happen if we went back to Texas.
The thought made my throat tight. With my cheek pressed against the fabric on this massage table, I closed my eyes, fighting away tears. I didn’t want to lose him.
That was why I couldn’t tell him how I felt.
We needed to get back home, back to the status quo. Then I could see if the epiphany I had about him was true.
He could make sure the feelings he’d expressed were genuine as well and not just snowman-inspired.
Then we could decide what to do about whatever those true feelings were from there.
“There you go,” the woman said in a gentle voice, flattening her warm hands on my bare back. “I’ll step out now, but feel free to relax for as long as you’d like.”
“Thank you,” I told her as well as I could with my cheek against the table.
Her soft steps sounded, and then she stepped out, leaving me inhaling eucalyptus and listening to the gentle music. And I did as she suggested. I lay there on the table, basking in my thoughts, making sure they were the best course of action.
No other arguments made themselves known, so by the time I got dressed, I was certain. Once we saw if this reindeer scheme held any kind of answers, we would cut the trip early and go home. Things would go back to normal.
They had to.
I gave the ladies a generous tip and left the spa. My muscles were supple and slackened. My skin felt refreshed after the gentle massaging of creams and oils, my body cleansed with the infusing scents of grapefruit and lavender in addition to the eucalyptus and rosemary. I even had a cute soft pink color on my toenails.
My mind had almost cleared of all its cares, invigorated with new purpose and direction, and I found myself more and more curious about our upcoming adventure.
See, Wyatt? I could let go and relax. Go with the flow. This was proof.
In the process of digging the key from my jeans pocket, I spared a quick glance at my phone. Hours had passed; it was a few minutes after three. If Jared slept too much longer, he would have an equally difficult time sleeping that night as well, but not because he wasn’t comfortable.
Because I meant what I’d said. I fully intended on taking the chair tonight and letting him have the bed.
Knowing there was no quiet way to go about this, I worked the key into the lock, twisted the knob, and opened the door. The curtains were drawn, shutting out invigorating sunlight that would have undoubtedly kept him awake.
The sound of his soft breathing struck me first. Jared was in the bed. On the left side, the side that would have been his had we actually been married, considering the fact that I’d slept on the right. He dozed peacefully, fingers curled under his chin and looking adorable.
I stared at his face, and for the smallest moment, I had a silly urge to do something he would either laugh about or get me back for later. Like shaving one of his bushy eyebrows or painting his fingernails. Shaking my head, I doused the childish impulse as quickly as it came.
I hated to wake him and considered heading to the barn alone, but I couldn’t let him sleep much longer whether he went with me or not.
His dark lashes brushed the tops of his cheeks, and his full lips were parted. He inhaled long and slow and then exhaled and smacked those lips a few times.
Chuckling, I knelt on the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Jare.”
I shook his shoulder. He rolled in response, his hand brushing my hip before reaching for my hand in a startling, unexpected gesture. My instinct was to pull away, but I let his fingers find mine, thrilling at the shivers coursing up my spine at the impact.
This time a completely different impulse overtook me, one that was far less juvenile. I was tempted to stroke his cheek, to brush his hair from his forehead and press a kiss there. I shook free of his touch and retreated a few steps.
He wasn’t having it. He reached for me again, tugging me back. His hand wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me onto the bed beside him. Startled, I collapsed where he wanted me.
His body was hot—so hot. And not just in the physically attractive sense. He was like a desert. I’d known this about him, that his skin was at least ten degrees warmer than mine at all times, but it had never been so noticeable before now.
It had never stirred me to awareness like this ever before.
“What are you doing?” I said, but admittedly, my effort to fight this was weak. Because his arms wrapped around me, and he burrowed his face into my neck.
“Don’t want to,” he mumbled against my skin.
My fingers dug into his shoulder. Was he still sleeping?
I decided to see where this might go. “You don’t want to what?”
“Get up,” he said, trailing his nose along my throat and sending shimmers clear down to my toes. “Let’s just stay here.”
He pulled me tighter to him, holding me, and I could swear I felt his lips press against the skin of my throat.
My resistance was failing. His mouth had made it to my jaw, and my brain cells were scattering and cheering all at once.
“We can’t,” I said, pushing against his shoulders, hating that I had to fight this.
What had come over him?
He growled at my resistance. His lips were almost to mine, and I was on a battlefield. Reality warred against illusion—and with his lips edging ever nearer, with the supple way my body was giving in, I was momentarily unsure of which side I fought for.
“Jared,” I said against his lips.
His mouth hovered, and he groaned. “Now, you tell me to stop.”
“We can do this,” I said. Kiss again. We were technically married, after all. “But are you sure you’re fully awake? Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want to be your regret.”
I couldn’t handle that. I had a plan, dang it, and kissing him now wasn’t part of it.
Heaving a sigh, he rolled over on his back, draping a hand over his face. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry, Lace.”
He scraped his hands over his face. “Ugh, I’m an idiot.”
I lay back on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling, reeling.
“If you are, then I am, too,” I said. Because I’d been just as willing as he was.
This made things between us more serious than they’d ever been. Kissing on this bed might lead to other things. If I were going to share myself like that with him, I wanted to be sure our marriage was real and that it would last.
I wasn’t sure of either of those things at the moment.
All the more reason to see where the mysterious invitation we’d gotten this morning led.
“Come on, knucklehead,” I said, a little louder this time. I sat up and slapped my hand against his abs. “It’s almost time for our appointment with the reindeer.”
He folded in on himself and then reached for a pillow and smacked me with it. “You know better than to barge in on me while I’m sleeping.”
I grabbed a pillow. “So you’re saying what happened just now was my fault?” I hit him right in the face.
He rose to his knees and barreled into me, knocking me back on the mattress. Instead of continuing where he’d left off, though, he crammed his pillow onto my face.
“How do you like that?”
“Hey!” I shoved him back. “Do you want to meet the reindeer or not?”
He shuffled slightly and sat up. His dark hair was appealingly rumpled. “Do you?”
I rested my hands on my knees. “I talked to Junie. She said she hadn’t heard anything about any reindeer stopping by and that no other guests had gotten a note like ours. She thinks it’s the radio at hand, which I have to say, makes me that much more anxious to check things out.”
Going out to the barn wouldn’t hurt. Though I had some misgivings, it wasn’t like a serial killer had snuck the invitation into our room and was planning to jump us when we arrived.
As far as I could tell, two scenarios awaited us. One, we would find a fat lot of nothing at the barn and be taken for a hoax by whoever had sent the note.
Two, the claim was real. We would find reindeer and maybe even another indication about how long this marriage was going to last or what we were going to do if it did.
Because with what almost just happened between Jared and me? I was leaning more and more to the staying-married side than ever.
All the more reason for us to leave.
I couldn’t help the new worry creeping in with that thought. What if we left, returned to Texas, and yet never went back to normal? Would Jared accept the fact that this new version of himself had broken up with Tia?
Would he kiss me again the way he had after seeing those pictures? Would we go on pretending the wedding had happened?
He blinked a few more times and inhaled in that sleepy way I sometimes did when I first woke up. He stretched his hands over his feet, the muscles in his arms flexing in the process. I heard a few places in his back crack.
“Sounds like you’re getting old,” I said.
“I’m as old as you are.”
“Not quite.” Arguably, that was true, but I had a few months on him.
He reached for his phone, which rested on the bedside table.
“How was the spa?” he asked, attention on the screen as he checked messages he may have gotten during his slumber. Though scruff shadowed his jaw, his skin had a glow only repose could bring, and his eyes glinted with pensiveness.
“Amazing,” I said on a breath. “Just what I needed.”
He didn’t respond. His face darkened, chasing away any remaining remnants of sleep still in his gaze, and he grunted an inaudible utterance.
My hackles rose. “What?”
Had something else happened?
He rolled his eyes, tossed back the covers and rose. I barely backed away enough to dodge the storm of his path.
“What?” I said again, craving to know what had him so instantly upset.
He stalked to the bathroom, muttering more grumbling words. I made out a handful of them, including, “Unbelievable,” and “never should have,” and “what do I do now?”
“Tell me what happened? Is it your mom? Is it mine?” I glanced at my phone as well, but no new messages had come in.
Jared took a few minutes before he returned and held his phone for me to see.
“I decided to send her a quick text yesterday,” he said by way of explanation. “To assuage my guilt, I guess. Or to figure out if Tia and I really were through. I’m not sure which.”
I saw the text he’d sent:
Jared: Thinking of you. Hope you’re having a great time!
I tried not to be hurt that he’d sent this after we were, for all intents and purposes, husband and wife. He wished he was with her? With Tia?
Was that how he really felt?
Maybe this snowman version of Jared was warring with the real Jared who’d been in Texas. Maybe that was why he’d never told me how he felt about me before this trip.
He stepped back into the bathroom and must have dunked his head under the faucet because when he stepped back out, this time he held a towel to his hair.
“I thought maybe by playing things as though they were the normal” —he held up a palm to ward off my argument— “you know what I mean,” he said. “I just thought it was the right thing to do. Just to see if she was affected, too. That maybe if I messaged her as if we were still together, things would go back that way.”
My eyes burned. “You want things to go back the way they were?”
“Doesn’t matter. Did you see her reply?”
I hadn’t, actually. I glanced at the phone again, deciding to let the matter settle for now.
Tia had replied, but it wasn’t the lovestruck and optimistic response he was probably hoping for.
Tia: Didn’t you just get married? This is sick and twisted. Don’t ever contact me again.
My stomach hardened, and my grip tightened on his phone.
In any other reality, I wouldn’t have cared that he sent this, that he had texted Tia throughout her entire trip, asking for details on Mexico and telling her how thick the snow was here.
But this was evidence of what I’d wondered: If he cared about Tia that much. If he loved her. And that idea hurt more than I knew it would.
I wanted him to be mine.
“She must mean a lot to you,” I finally said.
He shook his head. “That’s not what bothers me the most.”
“What is it, then?”
He hung the towel up in the bathroom and exited a third time, cheeks flushed with color and fury.
“I’m not a cheater,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Of course you’re not.”
“Yet, whoever is behind this twisted game we’re playing seems to think I should be either way. No matter what I do, I feel like I’m cheating on her. Trying to avoid that, of course, it backfires, because now I look like a disgusting vulture who would text an old girlfriend right after he got married. I’m not a cheater!”
I raised my hands. “I never said you were.”
He had kissed me, but he’d done it because we were swept up in the moment, because he’d thought we were suddenly married. And our moment in the bed just now? He’d been addled by sleep.
“What do I do now?” He tossed his hand toward the phone. “Should I reply? Tell her I got her number mixed up with yours on accident? I wish I knew what was going on here. I wish I knew what was going to happen when we go home.”
I pressed my hands to my stomach. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up yet, but it looked like now was the perfect time.
“I was going to mention the same thing to you,” I said.
“You were?”
“I thought about it all during my pedicure and facial. I won’t mention the massage because I don’t want to rub it in.” He either didn’t catch my cheesy pun or wasn’t in the mood for it, so I went on. “I know you’re being sweet to keep your word and stay here with me until Christmas, but I think we should go home.”
He didn’t argue this time the way he had before.
I pressed on. “We go see if we learn anything new from the reindeer, and then we cut our trip short. Who knows, maybe the minute we leave Montana, my driver’s license will go back to normal?”
“It’s worth trying,” he said. “Because at this point, this is beyond ridiculous.”
I nearly apologized, but I stopped myself. I wasn’t behind this. I hadn’t done anything wrong—unless you counted asking my bestie to come on a trip with me.
I decided not to mention the other part of my plan. I’d been going to suggest he examine his feelings when we returned, to see if he really wanted to be with Tia or with me, but the answer was obvious.
He was upset by Tia’s rejection, by the fact that he was no longer with her.
That was my answer.
He really did want to let me go once we got back.
I would let him. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t guilt-trip or manipulate him into doing what I wanted, not this time.
“Okay, then,” he said. “We’d better get going.” He hurriedly slipped his feet into his boots and put on his coat. Now that it was wet, his dark hair began to curl.
“You sure you’re ready?” I asked. “You didn’t have any lunch, and we have a little time left.”
His stomach growled, making us both laugh and breaking through some of the tension surrounding us.
Jared rubbed it. “Some food would be nice.”
I stopped him just before he reached for the door. “Jare?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about Tia.”
He pulled his beanie on his head and looked, if it were possible, even more upset. “Nothing I can do about it now.”