Page 4 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
“Everything will be okay. I don’t know how, but we’ve got this far. We can get a little further. You’re fine.”
If only I believed my pep talk.
I push the ignition, pull out of the parking space, and almost reach the exit when something wet wipes along my neck under my ear. I scream and slam on the brakes. My heart lodges in my throat. Did a kidnapper sneak into my car? And … lick me? I’ve listened to a lot of true crime, but I’ve never heard any mention of a licking obsession.
Before I can get too worked up, a head pushes between the seats. A dog head. The head of Owen’s golden retriever.
How did Greta get into my car?
I turn in the seat and scratch her ear. She licks my cheek, not looking any worse for wear, while I think I have permanent heart damage.
Only now do I notice the folded down back seat with a dog bed. My boxes of sheet music have disappeared.
I scan the rest of my car. A can of Dr. Pepper sits in thecup holder; the tan seats have black covers; the crack in my windshield is gone; the check engine light is off. On the dash is the key fob with a Nordquest Ski Resort keyring attached.
That isn’t my key. This isn’t my car. If I had to guess, it belongs to the owner of Greta.
Owen.
I scan the parking lot and see my car. A blue Honda Civic hatchback, the replica of this one, is a few spaces down from where Owen parked. I reverse and quickly drive back to where I began, but today just wants to rain distress upon my head because Owen comes out of the building before I’m able to park. He stops in his tracks when he notices his car is gone, then looks around as if he misplaced it. He’s wearing a hoodie over his t-shirt. In this weather, if he isn’t wearing a coat, he should at least have a scarf.
I know the moment he sees me because his brow lifts and his eyes widen.
I park and slowly open the door to stand. I could boil water for cocoa with how hot my cheeks burn. Why did I have to stealhiscar right along with his dog? Anyone other than the man I’m currently crushing on from afar and have been avoiding for months. From my pocket, I pull out a half dozen candy canes and hold them out in apology.
“I am so sorry. This is why you shouldn’t leave your key fob in the car. You’re just asking for it to be stolen.”
He laughs as he takes the candy cane bouquet from my hand. Between the sound of his laughter and the second our fingers touch, my heart races. This is the first time we’ve ever spoken, and it’s because I took his car.
“It seems I was lucky and had a thief who returns what they steal.”
I point to my blue Honda a few spaces away. “That is mine. I was distracted. Greta let me know I’d made a mistake, but you shouldn’t leave your dog in the car alone.”
He grins. “I was only inside for a few minutes.”
“A few minutes was long enough for someone to mistake your vehicle for theirs.”
More importantly, long enough for me to make a fool of myself.
I need to stop talking because all that’s coming out of my mouth is reprimands. I reach inside the car for my purse, the bag of knitted items, and my sheet music from the passenger seat. Greta licks my neck again, which makes me feel marginally better. Some of the music is on the floor, probably from when I slammed on the brakes, and I lean in to grab it. I can’t reach it until I’m practically laying across the seat with my bum in the air.
Nice. Real nice.
By the time I make it out of the car, any dignity that remained has fled. “Sorry. Bye.”
I turn to flee, but Owen speaks before I can.
“Tough visit? You seem upset.”
Right. Raccoon eyes. Blotchy cheeks. I can see how he’d come to that conclusion.
I’d much rather talk to his dog, but it’s not like I haven’t talked to a handsome man before. I’m actually quite the conversationalist, though he probably wouldn’t believe it with the way I’ve avoided him for the past six months.
He’s only an inch or two taller than me, so I don’t even have to look up to meet his kind eyes. They’re brown, but it’s impossible to know the exact shade with the parking lot pole lights the only source of illumination.
“It was a good visit. Just … hard.”
“I’m sorry.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Owen.”
