Nodding, Lincoln leaves the room and closes the door quietly behind him. Wasting no time, I open the top drawer of his dresser and pull out an old NASA T-shirt.
Stripping out of my clothes, I neatly fold my sweater, jeans, and socks, before tugging his T-shirt on. It hits just below my bottom, so I only crack the door when I thrust the clothes in his direction.
“They’ll be waiting for you outside the door when you wake up,” he says, respectfully keeping his eyes on mine as we speak through the crack.
“Thank you, Lincoln. For everything.”
“Get some rest, Holly. There’s ibuprofen in the bathroom if you need it for your ankle, and the door locks, if you feel more comfortable that way.”
“I appreciate it. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
The exchange feels awkward, like we’ve gone six steps backward since we met this morning.
Has it really not even been a full day since we met?
The thought is wild, but my mind doesn’t give me much time to dwell on it, because the moment I sink between the comfortable down comforter and bamboo sheets of Lincoln’s bedroom, my body immediately gets pulled into dreams of sugar plum fairies, and a ruggedly sexy man in plaid with a last name as a first name.
Chapter Twelve
Aloudbangfrom the slamming of a car door rouses me from a restful sleep, and for a moment I forget I’m in a strange man’s bed…at his parents’ house. Sitting up, I stretch and yawn as the aroma of cinnamon rolls and coffee waft into my nose, and a smile graces my lips. It’s Christmas morning, and while a devastating sense of sadness has embedded into my heart, the familiar feeling of excitement and wonder sits beside it, as though it’s an old friend there to comfort.
Tossing the curtains open, a fresh blanket of sparkling white snow covers the ground, and from this angle I see a shiny red truck in the driveway that wasn’t there before.
Muffled voices draw from downstairs, greetings and laughter, and I can’t help but wonder who it is. Not that it’s any of my business—I’m merely an overnight guest, but still, curiosity gets the better of me.
Cracking open the door, I’m happy to find my clothes neatly folded and waiting for me on the ground, so I scoop them up, then close the door as quietly as I can. Seconds later, I’m redressed, slipping out of the bedroom. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, I close that door behind me, too.
Using my fingers, I try to manage my messy strands of hair and run my fingers under the water to clean up the makeup that smeared beneath my eyes. Pinching my cheeks, I attempt to add some color to them, wishing I was one of those girls who kept a small makeup bag in their purse. Finally, I look down at the counter, and am overjoyed to find a brand new toothbrush sitting next to the toothpaste.
Goodbye dragon breath.
When I’m ready to face the crowd downstairs, I give myself one more glance and know it’s as good as it’s going to get. The voices become louder as I start down the stairs, and I hear Tina saying, “Oh, I think Holly is awake.” It sounds like she’s in the living room, and when I round the corner, Lincoln meets me halfway.
“Good morning. Sleep well?” There’s a cup of steaming hot coffee in his hands and I eye it, hoping there’s more in the kitchen for me.
“I did, thank you. And thank you for washing my clothes last night. I appreciate it.” I smile and glance down at the floor, pulling away from the heaviness of Lincoln’s gaze.
Lincoln stares at me like he is waiting for something else, then smiles. “One tradition we have is our family gathers together on Christmas morning to open presents. Things have changed over the years, but my cousin still lives close by, so he’s joining us this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not! I’m the one crashing your Christmas festivities.”
“Not crashing, you were invited. Let me introduce you.” He nods toward the living room. Placing his hand against my shoulder, he guides me around the corner.
Lincoln’s cousin has his back to me, but Tina sees me immediately and smiles. Realizing her attention is elsewhere, Lincoln’s cousin follows her line of sight, turning, and it’slike everything happens in slow motion. I gasp, and the smile on his face drops as he takes me in, recognition immediately registering.
It’s him.
Miller.
A single letter forms on his lips, and I know I have to stop him from saying my real name.
I can’t believe I told him my real freaking name.
“Hi! I’m Holly, Holly North. Holly North! That's my name!” Rushing toward him, I extend my hand and hope the frantic plea in my eyes is enough for him to not question me.
Cocking his head to the side, his eyes narrow, but a smirk plays on his lips as he assesses me.
