Page 97 of Skating and Fake Dating
“Was it ever? I was hesitant because you said you don’t believe in true love, so I thought things would come to an abrupt end if I admitted my feelings for you.”
“Meanwhile, I was protecting myself from being hurt again. But in the process, I was preventing myself from feeling anything.”
Looking around at the arena, I ask, “What about when the season takes you away? What about when my business keeps me here? What if you get traded?”
Carson smiles. “You told me that you’re solution-oriented.Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together. No more fake relationship—just a real one, with real challenges but also real happiness.”
Clearing my throat, I say, “There’s something else you should know. Remember the woman at the town hall meeting? She offered me an amazing opportunity to help showcase and distribute Sweet Memories Maple Company products. I was afraid that if I accepted, it would somehow fall apart, only highlighting how I’m a repeat failure.”
“But you wouldn’t know unless you tried.”
“That’s not all. It also means I might have to travel for demonstrations and marketing events. I didn’t know how to reconcile that with whatever I hoped would result from what we were pretending to be.”
Carson takes my hands in his. “I would never want you to sacrifice your dreams for me. In fact, I want to be the one cheering loudest when you succeed.”
“My grandmother said her dream wasn’t a thing, but a person, a life with Pappa.” My gaze hovers over Carson’s and all I see is reassurance and confidence, warmth and want.
“That might be true and you know what else? Home isn’t a place. It’s wherever you are.” He takes a rectangular box out of his pocket with a watch repair shop label on the top and passes it to me. “Turns out you keep everything important in your purse.”
“You stole my watch?”
“Borrowed it for repairs.” Carson winks. “On my way back from the airport, I received a call that it was ready and when I heard thetick,tick,tick, I became certain that I want to spend my time with you. All of it. Forever.”
I lift the lid and find my grandfather’s watch sitting inside, working again, set to the right time. Tears of joy brim in my eyes. “You did this for me?”
Carson takes the watch and slides it around my wrist right where it belongs.
“When I was little, I asked Pappa what ‘Tempus Fugit’ meantand he told me that time flies, so be sure to do what you love with the people you love. I’m done wasting time pretending I don’t love you.”
I fling my arms around Carson’s neck and he squeezes me tight.
He says, “After I was rejected, my entire life fell apart and then became about control as I tried to put it back together, and you are the most beautifully uncontrollable person I’ve ever met. You make me remember who I used to be, and that scares me because that person got his heart broken. I thought I was afraid to love you. But the truth is, I’m not.”
My lips tease a smile. “Are you saying you want to be my actual, non-fake boyfriend?”
His grows on his lips. “I’m saying I love you, Bailey Porter. I’m completely in love with you.”
“Well, that’s convenient because I’m completely in love with you, too.”
Carson turns to me, eyes so full of warmth and affection that I feel fuzzy and lightheaded in the best of ways. My stomach swoops as his gaze drops to my lips. I’ll never know the conclusion to my dream of meeting a Southern gentleman on a dusty road, but this is even better.
“What are you thinking about?” His husky voice sends a flutter through my chest.
“You, us,” I answer honestly, surprising myself with my boldness.
He moves closer, drawing me to my feet. That magnetic smile of his makes my heart tumble over itself. There’s a certain swagger in the way he talks and even the way he walks that captivates me—confident but never arrogant, like he knows exactly who he is and where he belongs.
My dream cowboy hockey star.
“Maybe we should do a little less thinking, at least for a few minutes.”
“If we’re not thinking, then we must be feeling and that goes against our hypothetical fake relationship rules.”
He motions to toss something over his shoulder. “I’m done with those.”
“Me too,” I say breathlessly.
When his fingers brush against the skin of my neck as he cups my jaw, my inhale falters. The gentle sandpaper touch of his thumb against my cheek sends electricity racing up my arm. Our eyes lock, and I can see the longing in his gaze.
