Page 17 of Kissed By Her Fake Fiancé

Faith was shocked to feel tears stinging the back of her eyes as she stared down at her new tumbler. This was the nicest thing anyone had done for her in a long time. Maybe it was just all she’d been through, but being part of this family, even as temporary as she knew it was, meant something to her.

That was something she hadn’t even known until now. She missed feeling like a part of something. This one simple gesture made it clear to her that even when she was engaged and working for her fiancé’s family, she felt like an outsider. It was always as though they were welcoming her as a guest.

The funny thing was, that was exactly the way she should have felt with Holden and J.J., but she could already see herself as part of this family. And that was not a feeling she could get used to having.

9

Make Christmas special for J.J. That was Holden’s number one goal every year on December twenty-fifth. This afternoon, for the first time in a long, long while, he felt like he’d actually accomplished it.

“We forgot the cranberry sauce,” Mrs. Ardmore said just seconds after they’d finally sat down at the table. They’d even finished the blessing and started passing bowls around.

“I’ll go grab it.” Charity pushed her chair back and stood. “It wouldn’t be Christmas if Mom didn’t forget the cranberry sauce.”

“That’s not true,” Mrs. Ardmore said. “Sometimes I forget the deviled eggs.”

The deviled eggs were right there, in an interesting little contraption. It was a tray, but it had rows of egg-sized indentations. He probably should have seen something like it by now, but deviled eggs weren’t something he’d even heard about until they moved to Tennessee.

“So, tell us what you got for Christmas,” Mr. Ardmore said to J.J.

She was the only child at the table—something he had a feeling would change soon enough. Probably in a year or two, as in love as Nic and Charity seemed to be.

“I got a skateboard,” J.J. said. “And a mini keyboard so I can learn to play the piano.”

Holden smiled. “We were just telling Faith that J.J. is auditioning to get into a summer program in New York.”

“New York?” Mr. Ardmore said, his expression and tone showing he was impressed.

“That’s where they’re from originally,” Charity told her dad.

“So, it’ll be like going home,” Mr. Ardmore said.

“Except this is a pretty exclusive program.” Holden continued cutting a section of turkey while he spoke. “She’ll be living in a dorm with other young singers her age.”

“It’s at one of the performing arts schools,” J.J. said. “And super hard to get into, so I’m not getting my hopes up.”

“With your talent, they’d be nuts to pass you by,” Mrs. Ardmore said. “Besides, I’d bet you’ll end up on the radio by the time you’re in your twenties.”

J.J. looked confused, and Holden couldn’t help but laugh. “The radio is how people used to get all their music.”

“Unless they bought the record, in which case they’d go to the record store,” Mrs. Ardmore added.

“Dad, can I get a record player?” J.J. asked. “Amber S. has one.”

Mr. Ardmore looked confused. No doubt he wondered why she was referring to one of her friends with an initial for her last name. They’d have to go down the whole “group of Ambers” rabbit hole if he explained why she used initials for most of her friends. Instead, he moved to keep the conversation on course.

“I never thought vinyl would come back in style,” Mr. Ardmore said.

“What’s vinyl?” J.J. asked, looking around.

“Records,” Holden explained. “They’re what you’ll play if you get a record player. Records are made from vinyl, so people call them that.”

“Oh.” J.J. nodded.

“You do have some Christmas money to spend,” Holden said.

“And some savings,” J.J. said. “Miss Ana gave me that money for helping out with her show.”

“You got paid for that?” Mrs. Ardmore’s eyebrows shot up in the air as she looked at the eight-year-old. “That makes you a professional TV star.”

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