Page 13 of Terms and Traditions

His gaze steadily held mine. “I’m not running, Steph. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Ugh, his words did something to my insides, and I liked the sound of my nickname on his lips way too much. I smoothed the paper in front of me to tamp down the flutters in my stomach before sliding it across to him. “This is the itinerary for the week of December twenty-fourth through twenty-eighth. We’d have to leave early on the twenty-third to travel since it’s a nine-hour drive. I’ve never bothered to fly since it’s so close, and it’s a hassle to have someone pick me up on the other side, but… does that work?”

Nash silently scanned the paper before he smiled softly. “You know my schedule better than I do. But yes, this is fine.”

“Did you have Christmas plans? I shouldn’t have brought this up without asking.”

He shook his head slowly as if measuring his words. “I don’t have family around, so usually I spend holidays with Emmett's or Ryan’s family. They share custody of me like I’m a child in a divorce case.” He laughed lightly, but tension lingered around his eyes. “But they’ll understand this year. In fact, they might love that Uncle Nash isn’t there to rile the kids. With them both married, it’ll be nice not to be the odd man out for a change.”

Yeah, I knew the feeling, and I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t been snatched up already. Besides the tall, dark, rich, and handsome vibe he had going, he was incredibly kind and attentive. Whether you were a business partner or a waitress, he treated you the same. Don’t think I didn’t notice the twenty he slipped in the tip jar, despite how discreet he was. That was just Nash.

“So, the terms of this arrangement,” I squeaked out before hastily sipping my drink. Man, that was good. “To be fully upfront, I don’t have a lot of dating experience, so I’m not sure I’ll be any good at this, but…” My words trailed off, and I wasn’t exactly sure where I was heading with them in the first place.

Nash touched my hand, strangling the pen. Oh. I slackened my death grip, but he didn’t move his hand. “Whatever makes you comfortable, okay?”

“I’m not gonna sleep with you,” I blurted.

Nash jerked back, eyes wide, and I realized I’d never seen him flustered before. It’d be cute if I wasn’t about to perish from embarrassment.

I groaned. What was wrong with me? Could I sink through the floor immediately? Why had I gone straight to that? There were a hundred different alternatives I could have landed on besides that. I needed to channel calm, cool, collected Steph, not the usual anxious mess I presented outside of my work environment. This was just work after all. A business arrangement. The repayment of a favour for planning the party.

“I…” Nash spluttered before getting a hold of himself. “No. I’m not that sort of man and you’ve never struck me as that sort of woman. I have standards and convictions. True, I’ve dated in the past, but it’s been a long time. And that’s a line I never intend to cross until I’ve married my wife.”

My face burned with the heat of a thousand candles, and I couldn’t believe I was actually having this conversation with Nash Prescott in the middle of a coffee shop. If it wouldn’t draw so much attention, I’d fan my furnace of a face. Instead, I swallowed a too-large swig of my drink to fortify myself and stared out the window for a solid minute. Breathe for a minute and focus. This is business. You’re good with business. Don’t make it personal.

The hiss of the steamers and the squeak of wet shoes on the tile floors grounded me. So did the taunting smell of the cinnamon bun, sitting untouched in front of me. My stomach churned too much to even attempt a nibble right now. When I trusted myself enough to not blurt out anything else embarrassing, I said, “All right then. That’s out of the way.” I straightened the napkin beside my snowflake mug and sighed. “Most of my family members aren’t believers and don’t share those convictions, so they will assume that we’re…” I gestured vaguely between us. “You know. But I’ll have Nana make sure there’s an extra room for you.”

Nash nodded, and there was no mistaking the swath of red creeping across his cheeks. But the man had the audacity to hold back a smile by the way his lips twitched. “And how about PDA?” He extended his hand across the table to me, palm up. “According to my research, it’s a necessary thing to sell the story.”

Slowly, I slid my hand to meet his, and his thumbs brushed my knuckles. I arched an eyebrow even as the light touch threatened to short-circuit my brain. “Research?” I croaked. Smooth, Steph. I swallowed hard. What in the sugarplum fairy castles was in our coffee? Was it spiked? Because I was jittery and warm and ready to follow him barefoot in the snow with the look he was giving me. This was ridiculous. I’d kept a tight leash on my emotions for the last two years, and now five minutes in his presence like this was going to be the death of me. I was a brilliant actor when it came to hiding my feelings, but allowing the real to come out and merely pretend it was fake? In front of my family? Could I do it?

“Yes, research.” Amusement curved Nash’s lips. “You think I was going to do this unprepared? I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. You won’t want to get rid of me.”

“Only fake boyfriend.” As for not getting rid of him… Forever sounded good to me. Not going there!

Nash grinned boyishly, eyes crinkling behind his adorable glasses. Had I mentioned how much I loved those glasses? “Semantics. This okay?” he asked quietly, still running his thumbs over my knuckles.

I cleared my throat. “Yup.” Oh boy, I sounded like a prepubescent junior higher being asked out to prom. “Holding hands, hugging, it’s fine. As for kissing…” Was it just me or was it getting hot in here? I tried to discreetly pinch the front of my sweater for airflow. Maybe we should have grabbed an outside table for this conversation. Forget the below-freezing temperatures and the lightly spitting snowflakes. I was about to combust.

His mouth twitched, but he waited for me to continue—clearly enjoying this way too much to bother helping me out.

“If it’s needed. When we’re in public,” I clarified. “I know how fake dating works. Particularly because my family is crazy obsessed with mistletoe. It's everywhere. Be sure to watch out for Great-Aunt Edith, especially after she’s hit the eggnog. Just…” I heaved another sigh, then groaned and leaned my forehead against my balled fist. “It’s been a while, okay? I… I’ve only had one real boyfriend before. So…” Anika’s story about the guy who threw up after I kissed him in high school flashed through my brain in 4K clarity. Not relevant, but still, it messed with my confidence. “Forget it. Is there anything you want to add for rules?”

I’d shocked him into silence because it took two throat bobs for him to recover himself. My kissing history wasn’t something I was ashamed of. Apart from the disastrous kissing challenge, I didn’t kiss until a third date, and in light of my two-date only curse, I’d only had one of those—who turned into the aforementioned boyfriend for a month. Until he’d hit me with the “I need to take some time to work on my relationship with God” line after his job aspiration to work at Nova didn’t pan out, and he dumped me. Only to have a blonde on his arm by the end of the month. Yeah. And Jarrett the creep didn’t count. If no one had wanted to kiss me—or simply want me for myself—there must be something wrong with me.

Samantha’s words echoed from last night, and I glanced out the window to keep Nash from seeing the fine sheen pooling in my eyes. She’s not the kind of woman any man wants. No. I was the woman nobody wanted. Not even my parents.

“You’re in charge here,” Nash said at last, his low timbre drawing me out of my spiraling thoughts. “I’ve got you.”

His protective words smoothed the sting of Samantha’s. I’ve got you. I smiled before adding, “Nana will be the hardest to convince. And maybe Hailey.” Not that Gabe and Ivy were going to be a walk in the park either, but on the scale of nosiness, Nana and Hailey were cut from the same cloth. They treated it like an extreme sport.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I talk to them almost every week, and I never mentioned we were dating. I mean! Fake dating.” Get your head in the game, girl. “Fake dating because this isn’t real. Of course.”

Something flickered across his face, but it disappeared before I could name it. “So, none of them know about me?”

Uh… more like they knew about him as the object of my crush. They knew too much. I cleared my throat. “They know about you as my boss, just not about… us.”