Jill Shalvis - Holiday Hideout - The Thanksgiving Fix / The Christmas Set-Up / The New Year's Deal

“We needed one?” As juicy as she was feeling right now, she’d lay odds that they would.

“Yeah.”

“So the board games were your cover story.” She’d never encountered such an endearing combination of uncertainty and confidence in a man.

“A damn lame one, at that. I’d forgotten about the games cupboard.” He gazed at her. “Obviously I’ve screwed this up royally, and if you’d like me to head on back to my cabin, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I don’t want you to head back.”

“Then let’s just forget you ever saw that box, okay?”

She smiled. “No chance.”

“You never know. Once you’re into a hot game of Sorry!, you could block out everything else.”

She looked more closely at the boxes on the table. “You brought Sorry!? I used to love that game. Haven’t played it in years.”

“Great! We’ll definitely play it, then.” He seemed relieved at the change in topic. “I brought checkers and chess so you wouldn’t think I’m an intellectual lightweight, but I’d really rather play Sorry!. It’s way more relaxing.”

“At the risk of having you think I’m an intellectual lightweight, I’d much rather play Sorry!, myself. Chess gives me a headache.”

“Me, too.” He took off his coat and draped it over a kitchen chair.

She considered suggesting he hang it on one of the hooks by the door beside hers, but any discussion involving the coat would be loaded with subtext because of what the pocket contained. She decided it could stay right on the back of a chair. Handy.

“The pizza smells good.”

“I’m afraid it’s not very warm anymore. I’ll turn the oven on again for a few minutes.” She started toward the stove.

“Hey, don’t bother.” He caught her arm as she walked past him.

She glanced up at him the same moment he touched her, and she came to an instant and complete stop. She even held her breath as she met his gaze and focused on the sensation of those strong fingers gripping her upper arm.

His fingers felt cold, even through her sweatshirt. Of course they would be. He’d been outside and hadn’t worn gloves. But there was nothing cold about the look in his eyes.

He let go of her almost immediately, but his breathing wasn’t quite as steady as it had been before. “I…uh, often eat cold pizza.”

“So do I, but this time we don’t have to.” She paused. “Unless you’re in a rush?”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “No. I think we should take our time.”

Her heart rate kicked up a notch. He wasn’t talking about the pizza, and they both knew it. “I’ll turn on the oven and open another bottle of wine if you’ll see to the fire.”

“Be happy to.”

Moments later they were sitting on the couch, each on their respective ends, but neither of them hugged the corners the way they had an hour ago. Beth decided to take it a step further. She pulled off her monkey slippers and curled her feet under her before picking up her wineglass.

“Great slippers.”

“Thanks. I could have bought a zip-up sock-monkey sleeper with feet, but I wasn’t ready to regress that far into my childhood.”

Mac laughed. “But you thought about getting it, didn’t you?”

“For about ten seconds, yes, I did. It looked cozy.”

“Speaking of cozy, this sure is.” He cradled his wineglass in one large hand and let out his breath in a contented sigh.

She smiled. “Yes…I can’t remember the last time I just…sat. We probably both work too hard. I hardly ever slow down enough to relax in front of a fire and talk.” She sipped her wine.

Talking was good. It could lead to other things. Kissing would be good, too. She couldn’t help stealing glances at his mouth and wondered what kissing him would be like.

“Turns out there’s something specific we need to talk about, though.”

“Like what?” Uneasiness pricked her bubble of contentment. She should have known this was all too good to be true.

“Do you know why Ken and Jillian bought this place?”

She glanced over at him. “If you’re about to tell me it’s haunted, I don’t want to hear it. I’m a real wuss when it comes to scary stuff.”

Mac swallowed a mouthful of wine and shook his head. “Nothing like that. They bought it because they rented it for a weekend and it put their marriage back on track.”

“Aw. Now, that’s sweet. I’m happy for them. But what does that have to do with us?”

He looked at her. “It seems that when they began leasing it out for the winter holidays, renters left notes saying they, too, had discovered or rediscovered love in this cabin.”

“How nice.”

“Yeah, except everyone left a note like that.”

“Everyone?” Beth scooted around and rested her back against the arm of the couch, so she was sitting cross-legged, facing him. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

“I know. So now Ken and Jillian, being sociologists, are collecting data so they can study the phenomenon.” He paused to take another sip.

“Are you saying we’re part of a sociology experiment?”

“I’m afraid so.” Angling his knee across the cushion, he shifted so that he was facing her, too. “Did you have a question on your rental agreement asking why you wanted to stay here?”

“Yes.”

“They added that to collect more data. What did you say?”

“That I wanted to spend the weekend letting go of any pressure to find a husband and joyfully embrace being single.” Her breath caught. “We’re a test, aren’t we? A test of the cabin’s influence!”

“I think we are.” He gazed at her. “So how do you feel about that?”

“It’s ridiculous. Until a couple of hours ago, you and I had never laid eyes on each other. If they think we’re going to meet and instantly fall in love in a couple of days, they’re delusional. And for the record, I don’t buy the magic-cabin angle.”

“Neither do I.”

“You know, they probably don’t buy it, either. They’re scientists. They’re not trying to prove the cabin is magic. They’re trying to prove it isn’t by throwing together two people who are perfectly happy being single.”

“Could be.”

Beth relaxed against the plump arm of the couch. “Okay, I feel better now that I’ve figured that out. I admire them both, and I’d hate to think that they’ve gone loony tunes since I was in Jillian’s class eleven years ago.”

“So that’s the connection. I wondered.”

“She and I really clicked, and so I’ve kept in touch with her over the years. Nothing elaborate, just a phone call once in a while. I’m sure other students have, too. She was that kind of teacher. But we weren’t close enough that she’d confide a marital problem.”

“Yeah, I didn’t find that out until I’d known them for a while. Ken told me after we’d each had a couple of beers.” He drained his wineglass. “I think the world of them, too. I just never figured on being part of an experiment.”

She leaned forward. “And how do you feel about the situation?”

“At first I was irritated.” He turned the glass slowly in his hand and watched as it caught the reflection of the fire. “Jillian knows how I feel about my mom fixing me up all the time, so I thought she had a lot of nerve to do it herself. But then…” He looked up and smiled at her. “Then I realized that I’d be an idiot not to take all the time I could get with such a beautiful woman, set up or not.”

“Thank you.” That smile of his packed a punch. She felt the light brush of panic as she realized how easily she could fall for him, magic cabin or not. Better nip that in the bud right now. “Luckily there’s no danger that either of us will consider this the first step toward getting engaged.”