Chapter 32
Crisp, clean, cold air. There was truly nothing like it.
Certainly not in LA, at least. Exhaling, Graham sized up the scene of ice skaters surrounding him.
Leave it to Mistletoe Grove to lose virtually all its tourists but still be too stubborn not to set up its annual outdoor rink in the town square.
Surveying the scene, Graham let his mind wander.
All around, Mistletoe Groveians, bundled in cozy winter gear, glided along the ice to the festive Christmas melodies playing over the adjacent sound system.
He furrowed his brow, reflecting. The park skating rink had always had a live band before.
Apparently, with this year’s dwindling crowds, the town had made do with a recording.
Graham tried not to dwell on the sadness that pulled at his heart then.
Distracting himself, he took in the sight of the pure, white snow bedecking the park’s emerald green fir trees. He’d never truly realized how much he’d missed snow in LA.
His gaze traveled to the park’s perimeter, where the brick-fronted shops of the town square—windows aglow with festive holiday displays—stood proud, almost as if they could see the festive winter wonderland playing out before them in the park.
Graham shook himself from his daze. After his midnight confessional with Coco, the rest of the night had passed relatively soundly.
For a moment, he’d worried she might have been on to something, but now in the fresh light of day, it was clear he was doing the right thing in walking away from Brent.
Probably.
One thing that wasn’t clear, however, was how on earth Coco was currently skating circles around him. He shuffled gingerly on his own skates to catch up to her. “How long have you been hiding this?”
Casually, she executed a perfect lutz jump like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Whatever do you mean, Grahamy-poo?”
He rolled his eyes, unamused. “I mean, I grew up here, and look at me.” He gestured to his own unstable feet. “And you—you’ve lived your whole life in Southern California, and you waltz onto the ice doing that?”
He watched her perform a single axel without even breaking a sweat.
“I guess I’m just a natural,” she replied, clearly enjoying this far too much for Graham’s liking.
She looped a reverse circle around her wobbling companion, nearly knocking him over.
“Need I remind you that ice skating was your idea, Graham. No offense, but if you’re so bad at this, how come you brought me here? ”
“Because,” he retorted, working to regain his footing, “we need to keep up appearances. We came within an inch of getting caught last night by my mother. If we’re going to keep her off our case, we need to make our relationship look convincing.”
An unamused glower dawned on Coco’s face. “Hence this little skating date.” She rolled her eyes, haughty. “I can tell our talk last night really hit home.”
Before Graham could fire back, though, they found themselves joined by a familiar face.
“Just what I love to see,” Mayor Pickering beamed as he glided up to the pair. Shockingly, his faithful companion Oscar was not at his side. “A beautiful young couple enjoying all the holiday cheer Mistletoe Grove has to offer.”
Graham wrapped an arm tight around Coco, a cheesy grin plastered on his face. “You can say that again, Mayor. No place we’d rather be for the holidays. Isn’t that right, honey?” He elbowed her discreetly in the side.
“Couldn’t agree with you more, sweetheart,” she replied through gritted teeth.
Glowing, Pickering nodded his approval, and Graham exhaled a sigh of relief.
His personal feelings about the Mayor aside, being spotted out here on this romantic, heterosexual date with Coco was exactly why he’d come out here.
Granted, it wasn’t exactly hard maintaining the illusion for someone as hopelessly clueless as Pickering, but given the sway the Mayor had over Graham’s mother, it certainly didn’t hurt to make sure they still had the old coot fooled.
“We almost didn’t bother with the rink this year,” Pickering went on.
“What with the drop in the holiday crowd, it almost didn’t seem worth it.
” At this, the Mayor dimmed. “There are days I worry we might be just about out of Christmas magic here in Mistletoe Grove.” He gazed into the distance with a sigh.
A few moments later, it was Coco who broke the silence. “Don’t worry, Mayor. I’m sure something will work out.”
A wistful smile appeared on Pickering’s face. “I certainly hope you’re right, dear.” With that, he bid them farewell and skated away.
Watching the Mayor depart, Graham sensed a nagging feeling inside. How could Coco be sure that something would work out?
He narrowed his eyes at her. It would be just like Coco to cook up some harebrained scheme. And he had neither the time nor patience to deal with any more of her antics on this trip.
He took a centering breath. Don’t go getting worked up now, Graham. Coco isn’t plotting anything, you worrywart. I’m sure something will work out—that’s just something people say to be nice.
Right?
The thought quickly evaporated, though, as just then, Graham’s eye caught a sight across the rink that nearly made his heart jump out of his chest.
Brent and his mother.
Talking to each other.
He felt his blood pressure freefall. Brent and his mom together could not be a good sign. Especially with how things had ended between the two men last night.
A mischievous smirk quirked on Coco’s face as she followed Graham’s sight line. “Well, look who we have here. Why don’t you go see what they’re up to?”
“I don’t think so,” Graham declined, shaking his head.
“Whatever they’re discussing, it couldn’t interest me less.
” It was a bald-faced lie, of course. After the implosion he and Brent had recently had, the sight of his mother on the same ice rink—let alone in the same zip code—as him was a code-red emergency.
But hell if he was about to let on to Coco. Remember, Graham, he told himself, you’re the one who’s in control here. And that means you’ve got to keep your cool.
No matter how loudly he was screaming inside.
Coco, however, did not appear to be buying it. “Don’t be silly, Graham. You and I both know you’re dying to see what they’re talking about. All you need is just a little…push!”
With a forceful shove, she launched Graham into a head-on collision course toward Carol and Brent.
“Coco!” Graham hollered loud enough for the entire rink to hear. His composure on the ice was bad enough under his own direction. Ambushed by Coco, he was a certifiable public safety hazard.
Out of control, he careened full tilt across the rink, channeling all the poise and grace of a housecat treading water in a bathtub. Left and right, skaters dodged out of his path, hitting the decks to save themselves from the human torpedo tearing through the crowd.
Ahead, Carol and Brent caught sight of Graham barreling their way. Both of them turned white as they realized the catastrophe about to befall them.
“Graham! Watch where you’re—”
But it was too late. The next thing anyone knew, Graham steamrolled full speed into his unsuspecting victims, knocking all three of them ass over teakettle into a nearby snowbank.
Righting herself, Carol spit out a mouthful of snow. “Graham, what on earth—”
“Ms. Bartlett, are you all right?”
The sight of Coco gracefully descending upon them from across the rink nearly made Graham’s blood hit its boiling point.
“Coco,” Carol greeted as the starlet helped her to her feet, “how nice of you to drop by.” Upright, she brushed herself off. “Then again, I suppose it’s us doing the dropping, isn’t it?” She fixed Graham with a meaningful glare.
He could have popped Coco right in the…
“Good thing I got my hips replaced years ago,” Carol remarked before Graham could finish the thought. Across the rink, the Mayor seemed to catch her eye. “Not that new hips have worked quite the wonders I’d hoped for.”
Graham couldn’t help but notice the melancholy tone in his mother’s voice then.
Resetting, Carol took stock of Coco and Graham before her. “Isn’t it nice to see you two lovebirds enjoying an afternoon skate. Don’t you agree, Mr. Danvers?” She cast a side-eye toward Brent, also back on his feet, beside her.
Suddenly, Graham felt his senses heighten. What did it matter what Brent thought of Graham spending time with Coco? As far as his mother knew, Brent had nothing to do with Graham and Coco’s relationship.
Unless, that is, he realized with a shudder, his mother was on to them.
Graham felt himself break out into a sweat beneath his coat. Was that why she’d been talking with Brent? Because she knew her son—her picture-perfect golden boy—was secretly schtupping the local trade?
Fuck, he was sunk.
“I think it’s great we have at least some visitors here to enjoy our holiday festivities,” Brent answered Carol with a smile. “Although, I do have to say”—he narrowed his eyes at her mischievously—“that his date isn’t nearly as pretty as mine.” He took Carol’s arm, impish.
A red hue warmed Carol’s cheeks as she swatted Brent away, delighted. “That’s enough out of you, mister. And if that’s truly what you think, then I’m getting you an appointment with the eye doctor.”
The exchange, while insufferable, did manage to allay Graham’s fears. Their cover hadn’t been blown—this was simply more of the small-town shenanigans he’d forgotten about since leaving for LA.
Good riddance.
“I’m just teasing,” Brent replied to Graham’s mother. “Anyone with eyes can tell you’re both beautiful beyond compare.” He kissed her hand, flirting.
Graham resisted the urge to gag. Oh, for the love of…
At least Brent was being civil. After the way they’d left things last night, Graham wouldn’t have blamed Brent if he’d given him the cold shoulder.
Dumbfounded, he rubbed at his temples. “Would someone please explain what you two are doing here?”
A thick silence followed as he found himself met with blank, nonplussed stares.