Page 46 of Flake It Til You Make It

But the heart wasn’t always logical.

Chapter 8

They’d been on several“dates” by the time Saturday night rolled around, but as he and Taylor walked towards Sugar Plum Park, Rocco’s gloved hand tucked into Taylor’s, it felt like this one was a big one, aDatewith a capital D.

It seemed like most of the town was swarming around downtown, despite the snow that had fallen last night and into the morning, coating everything in a sparkling layer of pristine white. And many of them seemed to be out in pairs, holding hands the way he and Taylor were doing, gazing up at each other with the joy of the season and the joy of simply being together written all over their faces.

That is not you. You’re just pretending.

But it didn’t feel that way.

Rocco could at least admit that now. Especially after Taylor had finally let him in a little, let him seehim, and why this job he wanted was so important to him.

Even though he’d done his regular routine this Saturday morning—pouring coffee and making lattes and cappuccinos and espressos, warming up cinnamon buns and scones, packing up to-go orders of breakfast sandwiches—his mind had been on Taylor’s confession. Even Rebecca had mentioned how distracted he seemed, and he had been.

She’d assumed it was because of the growing regularity of customers coming in their door, but it was more than that.

Rocco had been pretty sure that after this was over, after they both had what they wanted, they could gradually shift down into a more casual friendship and he would be fine with it.

Maybe they could even have one last hurrah in bed, ending their fake relationship with a bang.

But now he wasn’t so sure.

“Seems busy out here tonight,” he said, breaking the companionable silence that had fallen between the two of them as they walked towards the park where the ice carving demonstration was being held. Next door was the temporary ice rink that was set up for the duration of festival season, and that according to Taylor, was where they needed to be seen on a Saturday night.

“Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “But I’m not surprised. Carl’s always a big draw.”

“He’s the ice carver?”

“Yeah, but I guess he and Murphy have been working together this year, and they’re going to do a piece together. Might be why there’s even more of a crowd than normal. Murphy kind of hates it, but he’s incredibly popular here.”

“I’dloveone of his gnomes,” Rocco agreed, nodding.

“Good luck with that,” Taylor said wryly. “He’s got a waiting list about a hundred miles long. I only got one for my dad last year.”

Rocco nearly askedthen why is your dad not here?But he’d already pushed Taylor hard enough on his history and his family situation. He knew Taylor hadn’t wanted to tell him about his mom, and he understood why. Taylor presented a smooth, in-control front, professional and easygoing. But there was so much more to him—such a big heart and so much commitment and loyalty, buried deep underneath. And even deeper still, a secret, carefully hidden pool of old pain.

“Well, good thing I’m not planning on going anywhere then. Maybe in ten years I’ll get one,” Rocco said, shooting Taylor a grin and squeezing his hand hard. Ignoring how his own heart squeezed back.

What would it feel like if they were really on a date tonight? If this wasn’t all just a front? If he had hope that in a year, in two years, in ten years, they’d still be walking hand in hand toward the entrance of Sugar Plum Park?

If tonight, Taylor didn’t drop him off at the front door of Jolly Java, but came upstairs and they made their own heat in his big bed with its fluffy ivory comforter?

For a second, he lost himself in the vision, but then Rocco shook his head clear.

He didn’t need these kind of distractions. Taylor being honest with him about his motivations had only made him more determined that he’d make sure he got this job. He not only deserved it, but he and the town needed each other. Rocco could see that now.

“Here we are,” Taylor said, guiding them towards a good spot, near a stand of trees, a good ways back from the stage that had been set up with two huge, pristine blocks of ice. Rocco could recognize Murphy now, from his broad shoulders and distinctive red-and-green plaid jacket, talking to another man and his new fiancé, Jem Knight.

“We can get closer, if you’d like, but I think this spot gives the best view,” Taylor added, glancing over at Rocco.

“No, no, this is perfect.”

It was even more perfect when Taylor arranged himself behind Rocco, casually wrapping a hand around his waist and pulling him against his firm, warm body.

“You good?” he asked, dipping his head low.

Rocco guessed Taylor was worried that he’dgoat cheeseout of this particular snuggly arrangement, but at this point, he didn’tthink there was a single scenario in which those words were going to cross his lips.

---