Page 43 of Flake It Til You Make It

He’d do anything to protect it.Anything.

Steve Mills might come in and want to make it more commercial. He’d cloak it inbiggerandbetterbut in the end, all it would mean was change.

Not all change was bad or destructive, but Taylor knew thatthisdidn’t need altered, not in any way.

“This is incredible,” Rocco said, his voice full of wonder, the same feeling Taylor experienced every time he watched this.

“Yeah,” Taylor agreed.

Rocco turned towards him and shot him a determined look. “This is what you want,thisfeeling, this is why you want that job.”

“Partially, yeah,” Taylor said. It was more complicated than that, but essentially, Rocco had nailed it.

“It’s special. Special enough to need protecting. Special enough that I get why you’re so determined,” Rocco said.

It helped that Rocco understood it; but then, why wouldn’t he? He was trying to build somethinglikethis. Without the fancy lights and the brass section, but the same kind of feeling.

That warm, cozy, protective,protectedfeeling.

If a town could wrap you up in a soft blanket, it would be Christmas Falls.

Rocco wanted the same feeling when you walked into Jolly Java as when you strolled through downtown Christmas Falls.

“I’m glad you see it,” Taylor said, meaning it.

Not even flinching when Rocco reached over and took one of Taylor’s gloved hands in his own, squeezing it. Maybe it was for the crowd around them but maybe it was alsojustfor them.

If Taylor was better at lying to himself, he’d have claimed their dovetailing motives were why he’d agreed to this crazy fake dating plan in the first place. But the truth was more complicated. Yes, Rocco was ultimately good for the town, the same as Taylor was trying to be, but he was attracted, too. And not just to Rocco’s undeniably gorgeous exterior, but to the whole goddamned package. His sly humor, his kindness, his creativity, his clear intelligence.

It had been a long time since Taylor had felt this kinship with someone. If heeverhad. Michael had never understood Taylor’s obsession with Christmas Falls. The one winter he’d brought him, he’d liked it, sure, but he hadn’t felt the same.

It hadn’t grabbed him by the heart and wouldn’t let go.

At the time, Taylor had told himself it was because Michael didn’t have the same history with the town he did. But it was more than that too.

Because Rocco didn’teither, buthegot it.

“You get it,” Taylor said in a low voice, ducking his head so only Rocco could hear him over the echoes of the band.

“Yeah,” Rocco said, eyes shining as they met Taylor’s.

There was a part of him that was screaminggoat cheese, goat cheese, goat cheese,but he pushed it away.

He didn’t need that. Not tonight.

Tonight was perfect.

At least tonight was perfect, until after the last lights of the parade had disappeared, Rocco had sighed happily, said he wanted hot cider and didn’t Taylor want some, too?

Taylor hadn’t wanted to let the guy out of his sight—arguing with himself that if this was real, he certainly wouldn’t, anyway—and so he’d walked with Rocco back to Jolly Java.

The inside was wreathed in holly, the windows edged in faux ice and snow, the doorbell tinkling above as Rocco unlocked the door and let him in.

It was still perfect, Taylor decided, lulled into complacency as Rocco heated up cider and poured it into two heavy white mugs.

“Here,” he said, handing Taylor one of them and then leaning against the counter. “So are you going to tell me what else is going on?”

His question was still casual, but there was that steel edge in his eyes. A look that might not be demanding answers but asking very nicely to provide them.

---