Page 17 of Faking With Mr. Steele

“I make soap.” I peek over at Graham coloring with the two young girls and try to ignore the explosion in my ovaries.

“That’s a cool job. I’m always looking for good soap. Gia has such sensitive skin.”

“Well, I have all kinds of soaps you could try.” We talk about mundane things, but it’s oddly easy. I like Lindsey.

She’s nice. Things are going well until I catch June staring at me.

“Are you the elf from the mall?”

Graham’s head pops up. Well I can’t lie to a child, can I? Well, actually, I do by even pretending to be an elf, so yeah, I can. “No.”

My eyes collide with Graham’s and I wonder how in the world I’m going to survive Christmas in this house. The rest of the day passes in a blur of pretending to be in love, and after everyone is tucked in their beds, including me, I toss and turn replaying every touch and glance from Graham until I finally pass out and dream I’m in a runaway sleigh, careening through soap bubbles toward a cliff, unable to stop my demise.

“You have to take it slowly, and just let yourself glide,” Graham instructs, with his hands cradling my hips.

We left his mother’s house early this morning, and thanks to York, we’re at an indoor rink.

“Well, I’m trying,” I say, as York skates up to us, like the pro he is. He sends a fine mist of ice flying when he twists to a stop.

“Want to play a game?” he asks Graham.

“Yeah, right.” Graham laughs. “I think the odds are not in my favor. Besides, I’m busy.”

York smiles at me, and I still can't believe I’m actually in his presence. Not only is he the best player in the league—he’s the hottest. I know that sounds bad to downplay his skills on the ice, but obviously I don’t watch hockey because I love the game. Of course, he’s not Graham gorgeous. And it would be nice if Graham wasn’t either. Instead of clinging to his masculinity wrapped up in jeans and a black sweater, I cling to the wall. “I guess my secret is out,” I say.

“What, you’re really a professional skater?” Graham teases.

I laugh, almost losing control of my skates, but his large hands steady me. “My secret is I didn’t grow up in the snow like you all did. I’m a Florida girl.”

“I couldn’t tell.” He kisses my nose. It’s an intimate gesture that’s hard not to twist into something other than what it is—a ruse. It’s part of the act, since his family, and Trudy, are here to enjoy the show.

Lindsey and her kids fly along the ice like they were born on it. Is there anything this family is bad at? I really need some space to keep my head straight, especially after that crazy dream.

“Go scrimmage with York,” I tell him.

“You’ll be ok?”

“Yes, go spend time with him.”

Graham lands a soft kiss on my forehead and then skates away. I manage to get myself off the rink and out of my skateswithout incident, and find a seat where I can be a voyeur. I watch as Graham and his cousin pass a hockey puck back and forth between their hockey sticks. It’s just me and my mom—no cousins, no siblings, no dad—and we don’t do this whole family thing. This is all new to me. It’s all so busy, and loud. Yet, I’m finding myself loving every minute of it.

After the ice skating, we head back to Graham’s to relax before dinner.

“I have some business things to take care of before we leave,” Graham informs me when we arrive at his parent’s house. “Will you be ok on your own?”

“Of course,” I assure him. It’s actually nice he seems concerned, but again, as much distance as possible from him is probably best, lest I forget the purpose of this arrangement. “I’m just going to grab something to drink.”

Wine, preferably. He leaves me with a promise to be back soon, and I watch him ascend the staircase before unrooting myself from the foyer. When I enter the kitchen, Eleanor stands at the granite counter filling a glass of Chardonnay to the rim. I suppress the urge to bolt. Maybe, just maybe, I can get her to like me. I don’t know why this is so important to me, but for some reason, I feel if she likes me, maybe it will take some of the pressure off Graham. I mean, it’s obvious why he asked me here. His mother has probably been arranging his marriage to Trudy since his birth.

Such different worlds we grew up in. Hell, my mother would be happy if I just brought a guy home...ever. It’s not for lack of looking that I’ve not found anyone. Believe me, I’ve tried to find true love. After a while, it’s time to stop the dreams of fairytales and start getting a plan in place for your life. And that’s exactlywhat I’m doing. I don’t need a man to make my dreams come true by asking me to marry him and live happily ever after. Sure, it would be nice to have that special someone to share things with, but I’m not going to settle just to say I have someone. I‘ve never felt that undeniable spark—until Graham. On that scary thought, maybe I need the whole bottle of wine.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask, moving across the room.

She looks taken aback for just a second, before masking it behind a smile. “Not at all.” She slides another glass from a fancy contraption beneath the cabinet. “How was the rink?”

I tell her about how skating just isn’t for me—I’m more of a coffee and fire kind of girl—while she pours. She stops three quarters from the top. “Oh, don’t be shy, fill her up.”

She laughs. “I can see why Graham likes you so much.”

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