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I whistled. “Both your parents?”
“Yeah.”
“What made them move up here?”
Ciara smiled, looking off into the distance. “My mom loved the snow,” she said. “One of the first memories I have of her is her making snow angels with me in the front yard. She had called out of work that day and called me out of school. It was the first snow of the season, I think, because I don’t remember there being a lot of it on the ground. In fact, I think there was barely enough for us to make snow angels.
“Everything about my mom was magical, so it fitted that she loved snow, which gave me the same feeling.” Ciara held her arms out to her sides, stopping to spin in a slow circle as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “She always smelled like freshly baked sugar cookies, and she had a laugh that sounded like musical wind chimes. She was soft-voiced, and caring, and unendingly cheerful. Or at least, that’s how I remember her.”
I smiled, though the ache in my chest grew. “She sounds like an amazing woman.”
“She was, from what I remember.” Ciara gently dropped her hands and stopped spinning, fiddling with the hem of her coat. “That’s why it took my dad so long to come out of his fog. He was depressed for a long time, and when he wasn’t depressed, he was high.”
I raised my eyebrows. “High off of what?” I asked. “And was he able to take care of you?”
“Marijuana and yeah, he provided. He went to work, grocery shopping, et cetera. We just didn’t do a lot of extra stuff.”
I squinted. “Defineextra stuff.”
Ciara shrugged, a jerky motion of lifting her shoulders and dropping them quickly. “I dunno, like family outings? I went out with friends once I was old enough, but I wasn’t allowed to sleep over at anyone else’s house until high school. So I spent a lot of time by myself.”
As I pictured a younger version of Ciara, playing with dolls—or probably drawing—by herself, my chest ached for a different reason. “Sounds lonely.”
“It wasn’t that bad.” She smiled. “I met Brooklyn when I was about ten, so we would play in the front yard or ride bikes together. When we were older, we hung out together at the mall or whatever.”
By this time, we had made it to Ciara’s car and were standing by the driver’s side door. I crossed my arms as I leaned against her car, and she did the same. We stayed there in companionable silence, looking up at the tiny constellations of stars, in each other’s presence but content to just be. On my part; anyway.
After a few moments of this, I clapped my hands together. “Well, this has been great,” I said. “So when do I see you next?”
“Umm,” she said, glancing at me and looking away. “I’m not sure. Inventory starts tomorrow, so I’ll probably be working some late nights to get it all done in time. We have a site visit from some of the higher-ups, so Daniella wants everything done by then. I’ll probably also have to help out with making sure the store is neat, which is also a lot of work, surprisingly.”
“Busy lady,” I said. I tilted my head this way and that. “Or maybe you just don’t wanna see me—who knows?”
“No, that’s not it at all,” she stammered. “This is just a weird time of year, right after the holidays, and that’s when we do most of our restocking and inventory to prepare for the next busy season—”
I chuckled. While admittedly, it was nice to not be the only nervous talker in the relationship, I didn’t want to make her uneasy. “It’s okay; I was joking,” I said. “I have no doubt in my mind that it’s Daniella who keeps you busy with all the grunt work, not the higher-ups. Why does she dislike you so much anyway?”
Ciara shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s just…never liked me.”
I ran a casual hand up and down her arm, meant to comfort her more than be a romantic gesture. Still, I felt an overwhelming urge to defend Ciara’s honor. Or something.
“Well, listen, if it ever gets unbearable, let me know and I’ll fix it.” I narrowed my eyes. “No one should be abusing their power and taking advantage of others, especially if they’re taking advantage of my fianceé. It looks bad.”
She flashed a smile, then fiddled with the hem of her coat again. “My knight in shining armor,” she said, her voice sounding distant. I frowned, wondering what she was thinking about.
Before I could analyze it too much, Ciara opened her door, gently dislodging me, and slipped inside. I leaned down to say goodnight before she could shut it. I hadn’t planned on kissing her, but when I stuck my head inside, we were inches apart. Hints of the mint chocolate chip she’d enjoyed wafted in the air along with the sweetness of her perfume. She took in a short breath as if surprised, her lips parting.
I came to my senses, taking my head out of the open doorway of the car before we could make contact. “Text me when you get home,” I said, my voice low and husky. “So I know you made it back okay.”
She nodded quickly, fiddling with her keys without looking at me. “I will. Goodnight, Nathan.”
“Goodnight.”
She closed the car door, started the car, and disappeared into the night—leaving me wondering what the hell just happened, and what I was feeling for my fake fianceé.
ChapterSeven
CIARA
