Page 22 of Faking It with My Bossy Ex

Your news was indeed groundbreaking, except for the fact that Creative Canvas has a mega sale once every six months. I’ll be sure to check it out once I get back to New York City. I am still alive. Thanks for checking. I’ve just been a little distracted running into a lot of familiar faces.

Turns out, my ex is back in town. A little hard to believe, don’t you think? Even worse, I’m working with him on the whole fundraiser thing. Never thought we’d be in the same room again, much less have to be civil. Can’t wait to get back home.

Talk soon,

Amy

I hit send, feeling a little bad about deflating his news about Creative Canvas. Leo’s not a painter, just a supportive friend who is apparently on Creative Canvas’s promotional team. I appreciate the effort, though. That's what friends are for.

My gaze falls back to my empty dessert plate. Dylan seems to be making an effort to either keep the peace or maybe something more. Despite the past, it’s harder than I thought to keep the right barriers between us.

Chapter 10

Dylan

There was nothing left to come back for.

Her words keep replaying, like a broken record.

I wanted her to chase her dreams, not get anchored down by me. I'd seen what happened to my mom, trapped in a life without passion. She gave up her passions for my dad. She thought their love would overcome any resentment, but that wasn’t true.

I wanted to avoid the resentment in the first place, but I’d lost a whole lot more than I thought.

What I did was supposed to make things better, not drive her away from her hometown.

Seeing the sadness in her eyes hit me hard. I messed up, and I’m going to fix this. No matter what it takes.

She comes out of the front of the Cozy Haven lobby, a to-go cup of coffee in her hand. The tip of her nose is bright red, as are her lips, making her look like a porcelain doll against the white snowy backdrop.

If someone were to describe an angel to me, I would imagine Amy.

“Over here!” I wave.

She turns and comes toward me, eyeing the snowshoes I borrowed from Mrs. Parker suspiciously.

“Are we supposed to walk all the way into town with those on?”

I’d love to take the car, but the roads are a mess. Besides, we can take a shortcut if we go through the woods.

“If we walk with them off, we're not going to get very far. I'm up for it, spending all day lost in the woods with you, though. Just say the word.” I chuckle at her disgusted expression.

“Give me those snowshoes.” She brushes a bit of snow off of the bench out in front and it sits down. I watch her fumble with the latches for a couple of seconds, the adorable expression of frustration growing on her face.

“Let me help with those, or we're going to be here all day.” I kneel in front of her and position her boot over the plastic snowshoe, pulling the buckles across it.

“You don't have to help me with that. We look ridiculous.” She glances around, searching for whatever other poor soul is outside in this weather.

“Don't worry. The worst they can think is that I'm proposing. It's a quite natural thing to do on a couple’s Christmas getaway.”

My plans from years ago loom in my head. The wave of anxiety as I thought of proposing got to her. What would it have felt like to actually do it?

“Don't you even …” She shakes her head, at a loss for words.

As another couple steps outside, I lift an invisible ring box in my hands and put on my brightest smile.

“Amy Bennett, would you do me the honor of …”

She jolts up so fast she nearly topples over. My hands catch her waist on instinct, steadying her. Even through the heavy jacket, the feel of her is familiar, sparking something deep in my chest.

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