Page 90 of Skating and Fake Dating
As they stride away, I call, “But remember, it’s for the town.”
Savanna waves her paddle dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“We have another bid,” Ashlyn hollers, misreading her motion and raising the amount offered for an older fellow who must be on the Ice Breakers staff.
Five minutes later, I slip out the back door to find Carson and Otto—without the wig—counting out cash. This must be on top of the ice cream deal.
“The guys are going to give you such a hard time for this,” I laugh as I approach.
Carson hands the last of the bills to Otto, who salutes us before scurrying away, mascot tail swishing beneath the sparkly blue dress.
Carson turns to me, suddenly serious. “I couldn’t let someone else win.”
I nod. “Right. It would have blown our cover.” My spirits sag when I realize his intentions.
“Our cover.” He steps closer, and I can’t detect the punctuation in his voice. Is it a question or a statement?
My pulse quickens as his gaze hovers over me, drinking me in from head to toe and back again.
“Thanks for coming up with a plan. I was prepared to spend all of my savings on you.”
His voice is low when he says, “Just to protect our story?”
I bobble a shoulder. “Well …”
With the faint sounds of the auction continuing from inside, I wonder if we’re still pretending. And, more importantly, if I want to be.
Looking up at him as he smooths his palm down my arm, with a shiver, I finish, “You could have just told me the plan.”
His lips quirk. “And miss seeing your face when Ottilie made that grand entrance? Not a chance.”
I knock his arm lightly. “You’re impossible.”
“But you like me anyway.” There’s a question sparking in his eyes that has nothing to do with our arrangement.
“Yeah, I guess I do,” I say softly.
He drops a kiss on my forehead.
My breath falters.
Laughter spills out of the nearby door as it opens and closes. I recognize one of the girls Neesha mentioned and have had enough drama for one night. No need for anyone to find us back here with a blonde wig—Ottilie must’ve forgotten it.
Carson stuffs it in the Dumpster and says, “Come on. We should get back before people talk.”
But as we return to the auction, his hand secure around mine, maybe I don’t care if people talk or laugh or whisper. Not if I have Carson’s hand holding mine.
CHAPTER 37
CARSON
After a busy week of games and Gabe bugging me about a product endorsement possibility, the long-awaited town council meeting arrives. I sit with Nanna.
While we wait for it to be called to order, she asks me, “What’s going on?”
I look from side to side, uncertain of what she’s talking about because surely she heard about our time capsule discovery. Then I realize she could only be referring to one thing.
Bailey and me.
