Page 18 of Tell Me Lies

“I’ve never been,” he admits. “Never heard of it, to be honest.”

“What? For real?”

“I’m a Southern boy. What can I say?” He shrugs. “Tell you what. You can take her,” he says.

I can’t stop the cheesy smile that spreads across my face because this is something I hope she’ll really enjoy.

“But you’re taking me too. Preseason doesn’t start for another few weeks. I still have a day off here and there.” He relaxes back. “What about this? We can leave after practice on Saturday and stay somewhere overnight and drive back on Sunday night.”

With his answer, I don’t know whether to smile or frown. I didn’t really anticipate staying the night with him in New Hampshire. I thought it would make for a nice trip for Amelia and me, getting us out of Portland for the day.

“Don’t look so excited,” he deadpans.

“Sorry.” I blush. “I just … didn’t think you’d want to go.”

He rears his head back. “Boston, it’ll be my daughter’s first time going to this Christmas Village—”

“Santa’s Village,” I say, correcting him. “It’s called Santa’s Village.”

“Right. It’ll be Amy’s first trip to this place. I’m going.” He grins at me, and I hate the way my heart flutters. “Can’t wait.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his wallet and takes out a credit card.

“What are you doing?” I ask, looking at the card.

“Booking us a hotel,” he says matter-of-factly. “No getting out of this now.” His eyes roam my face. “You just like me for my cute kid, huh? I’m just the dad no one wants to take to Christmas World. Well, guess what, Miss Maci. I like amusement parks too.”

I don’t correct him on the name since it’s clear now that he loves antagonizing me by saying it wrong. So, instead, I nod. “All right, fine. But let me at least pay for the room. It was my idea and all.”

“No chance,” he mutters, pulling out his phone and tapping his fingers on the screen. Moments later, he turns it toward me. “This place looks cool.”

My eyes light up. “That’s where my family and I always used to stay. It’s so pretty there.”

“Well then, it’s decided.” He looks at his card before glancing back at his screen and typing in the information. After a minute, he sets his phone down and tucks his card back into his wallet. “All booked. They’d better have Christmas cookies there.”

“They do.” I laugh. “But I’ll warn you now, they aren’t very good.”

“I’ve never met a cookie I didn’t like,” he drawls. “Thanks for the invite, Boston.” He winks.

“Hey, no problem.” I laugh, rolling my eyes.

“Want to watch some trashy grown-up TV? Maybe something with swear words, violence, and an occasional titty shot.” He grabs the remote. “Anythingbesides the Disney channel or fuckingBlippi.”

I giggle because it’s obvious Logan Sterns is in full dad mode, but even the best parents sometimes need a break from parenting, I’m sure.

I glance at the clock and see it’s after nine. “I should probably get going.”

“I’ll make popcorn,” he says, dangling the offer in front of me and making it impossible to say no even though I know I should.

Nannies aren’t supposed to stay late and watch movies with the dad. I don’t think so anyway.

“I have the good stuff. Movie theater butter and everything,” he adds. “Pretty great shit, really.”

I know I should leave. I’m his kid’s nanny, for God’s sake. But for some reason, my mouth opens and says otherwise. “All right. But just for an hour. And only because you mentioned buttered popcorn.”

Shooting up from the couch, he walks into the kitchen. Thanks to the open concept of his home, I can still hear him rifling through the cabinet. Seconds later, the microwave makes some beeping noises as he hits the buttons, and soon, popcorn is popping.

“Hopefully, that doesn’t wake up Amy,” I hush-whisper, glancing nervously toward the hallway that is right off the kitchen area.

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