Page 23 of A Very Merry Mistake

“You’re welcome, CeCe. I don’t think I would’ve let that happen.”

“So you would’ve swung me over your shoulder and forced me to get in the truck?”

I laugh. “You better believe it.”

CHAPTER 7

CLAIRE

The door closes behind him, and I pull my phone from my pocket. There’s a text from the man that shall not be named.

Dale

Please don’t ignore me. We can talk this through.

I close out of the app, lock my phone, and then undress as the water fills the tub. As I run my fingers under the stream, I remember I brought a travel bubble bath with me that came as a bonus gift with my perfume.

The inn had shared bathrooms, so I was prepared to deal with that and packed a bag with my favorite items that I knew I’d never find on the shelves in Merryville. Not when everything here is locally made except for the items in the grocery store. If they could manage their food distribution in bulk, I’m sure they would. Keeping it local should become their slogan.

I unscrew the golden lid and pour some into the water. Instantly, it foams, and the sweet smell fills the room. I smile, setting it on the counter. My phone vibrates, then dings with another message, and I glance at it.

Dale

I heard you left town. Where are you?

“None of your damn business,” I mutter, powering down my device to end the temptation to tell him to go fuck himself again. Or his wife. Whichever is more convenient.

I grab a spare ponytail holder, twist my hair into a high bun since it’s not a wash day, and slip into the tub. A moan escapes me as my tense muscles relax. The temperature of the water is exactly how I like it. Not too hot or cold, just perfection.

That’s when I notice there’s a TV hung on the stone wall. To my left is a bamboo shelf with a remote on it. I laugh when I turn it on and see the Country Music Television channel. The volume is low, and I imagine Jake listening to music as he bathes. Typical Texan.

I sink deeper in the tub, letting Reba McIntire sing “Does He Love You.” It makes me think about Dale, and I grab the remote to turn it off, needing to focus on something else.

Merryville is one of the few towns that has successfully kept holiday traditions for over two centuries, which started with the lighting of the town tree on December 21st to celebrate the winter solstice. Afterward, they have a bonfire and a town dance. Everyone attends.

Merryville has its own anthem that was written by the founders of the town.

I reposition myself when my hairline touches water and rest my arms on the edges of the porcelain tub. Steam rises around me, the bubbles floating around my body, and I take in several deep breaths, trying to calm my heart. I don’t know what I’m doing in this stranger’s house, but I’m at peace. I’m not worried about anything.

What if I don’t leave as soon as possible and stay here with Jake? That thought takes me by surprise, but there’s something calming about him. I’m drawn to him. And it’s obvious we’re both lonely and broken.

Is it possible that the right man has fallen into my lap?

No. I laugh, remembering my terrible judgment.

Hopefully, taking this risk doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

* * *

When my skin prunes and the heat of the water fades, I decide it’s time to get out and dry off. Reaching forward, I pull the stopper from the drain, and soapy water whooshes past my body. Steadying myself, I step out and grab one of the fluffy towels he left on the counter. I wrap one around my body as I go through my night routine. Inside my bag are my skin creams and body lotions. After I brush my teeth, I slide into my silk pajamas.

The pads of my feet touch the cool wooden floor as I go to the living room with my bag over my shoulder. Jake is sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of whiskey. His cat is right next to him with her paws on his lap. He looks over his shoulder at me with a twinkle in his eye. “How was it?”

“Perfect,” I say with a smile, moving to the oversize armchair. His cat glares at me briefly, then returns her head to his lap.

Understood.

I know that look from anywhere. It’s the stay-away-from-my-man glare.

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