The Christmas Pact(16)

“I’m going to head downstairs so you can get dressed. I’ll see you down there,” he said.

“What are your plans today?” I asked.

“I’m just gonna have breakfast and head out. I’ve got to get back to my family.”

“Okay, so what’s the plan after that?”

“You’ll come out to Rochester later in the week for my brother’s wedding, right?”

“Yeah, but when do you need me?”

“The wedding is next Saturday. I guess Friday, maybe? I promised you a dress from my mother’s boutique. That will give us time to get ready.”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

As I headed for the door with plans to take a shower, it hit me that I was going to have to play the role of Kennedy’s girlfriend later this week, or at least pretend we were dating casually. Not sure why that made me so nervous, but it did. This was all supposed to be a fa?ade, right? Except at the moment, all I could think about was how good his hands had felt on me last night. I could still practically feel them on me now. And I was starting to wonder how much of this situation was really an act anymore, at least for me.

His voice stopped me as I stepped into the hall.

“You want me to come back and get you?”

“Nah. I’ll rent a car. I don’t mind long drives. They allow me time to think.”

“Okay. Oh, and Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”





My mom was practically swooning into her oatmeal.

“A gymnast and an astronaut?” She shook her head. “Such a shame you were injured. I would’ve loved to see you compete. I’m always glued to the television when the men do that pommel horse. I can’t believe Olivia is still sleeping. I’m sure she would love to talk about it with you. She made it to Regionals last year in the uneven bars and balance beam.”

Kennedy had just finished feeding Mom some line of bull about how he’d made it to the New York state finals in gymnastics, but during the last round, he slipped a disc in his back that ended his chances of going to the Olympics in high school.

My sister Abby leaned into me and whispered, “Gymnast, huh? Guess he’s flexible. No wonder I heard you moaning last night though our bedroom walls.”

I started to choke on the toast I was chewing. At least it gave me an excuse for the blush creeping up my face. Kennedy reached behind me and patted my back.

“You okay, babe?”

I struggled to clear my throat and rasped, “Yeah. Fine. Just, er, went down the wrong pipe.”

For the remainder of breakfast, Kennedy’s hand stayed on my back, gently stroking the area he’d massaged last night. At one point, his fingers crawled up the back of my neck beneath my hair. He skimmed back and forth along my nape, caressing my skin with a tender touch. Goosebumps broke out all over my body. It felt so good that I had the strongest urge to drop my chin to my chest and close my eyes.

Jesus, it had definitely been too long. All the man did was tickle my neck, and here I was close to letting out a moan again. I needed to nip this in the bud. Abruptly, I stood and started to clear the table. But my escape plan backfired when Kennedy insisted on helping me. Of course, being the perfect fake boyfriend that he was, he told my mom and sister to stay put. Next thing I knew, I was in the kitchen standing at the sink when he walked up close behind me. Too close. I felt the heat radiating from his chest onto my back, and his breath tickled my neck.

“We’ll be opening presents in a bit, if you’d like to stay. I’m sorry I don’t have anything for you,” I said quietly.

“It’s not like you had much warning, Riley. And I really do need to get on the road.” He brushed my hair from my shoulder and spoke low near my ear. “What will you do all week while I’m gone, hmm?” I tried to ignore what his body in such close proximity did to me.

“Well, my mother will probably make me go shopping with her. You know, to pick out china patterns after how thick you’ve laid it on ever since we got here.”

He chuckled softly. “I like Wedgwood Florentine in turquoise.”

I shut off the faucet, then wiped my hands on a dishtowel as I turned around to face him. Kennedy made no attempt to back up.

“Did you just make that up, or is that an actual china pattern?”

He lifted a strand of my hair and started to roll it back and forth between his fingers. Oddly, he seemed pretty mesmerized by it. “Most people display their china but don’t actually use it. My grandmother used hers only for her grandchildren. She said every day was a special day when you had grandbabies to feed. Wedgewood Florentine was the pattern she had, in turquoise.”

“Was? Did she pass away?”

He looked into my eyes and nodded, then lazily coiled the strand of hair around his finger and gave it a little tug. “She died a few years back. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kennedy nodded. “Anyway, when my ex and I were registering for stuff, I wanted to get my grandmother’s china pattern. I liked it, and it sparked good memories for me. She nixed that idea real quick, saying she wasn’t going to have tacky turquoise plates in her house.”

My brows drew together. “Registering? You mean you were engaged to your ex?”

“Yep.”