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“Now, is anyone going to decorate this tree?” Carissa set her glass on the coffee table and gestured toward the box of ornaments. “Because I for one would love to see a eucalyptus turn into a Christmas tree before I fall asleep. And if I do fall asleep, I give Big Nick over there permission to carry me upstairs.”
“Big Nick?” Heath furrowed his brows.
“My new nickname.” Lachlan pointed at his shirt.
“I’m never letting him forget that he wore a dick joke shirt the first time we met.” With that, Carissa rested her head on the throw pillow and closed her eyes.
7
DREAMS TO SHARE
She woke up in her room, with no memory of how she got there. She’d been on the couch, drinking egg nog, teasing Lachlan one second, and the next she’d opened her eyes to bright sunshine and a quiet house.
In the shower the night before, she’d decided to follow the advice she’d given Lena almost exactly a year ago: GET IT.
She was nothing like Lachlan—one look in his room and the disaster that was his unmade bed and the jumble of clothes piled in his suitcase was enough to confirm that, if the plane and motorcycle hadn’t already been a massive clue. Maybe his taste in T-shirts was suspect, but she liked him. He’d been kind when she’d been freaking out. He had a cat he clearly adored. He was definitely attractive. And if they had a holiday fling, it would be over before their differences had time to annoy her and he had enough time to disappoint her. It seemed like a solid plan. They’d both have fun, and when the holidays were over, he’d go back to his real life and she’d go back to… well, she wasn’t sure. But they’d go their separate ways and likely never see each other again. Maybe if Lena and Heath got married, she’d see him at the wedding, but that would be manageable. She’d worked it all out. Which was exactly why she’d offered Lachlan a sip of her drink and told him he could carry her upstairs if she fell asleep on the couch. She’d been flirting, and she’d been hoping if he did carry her, she’d wake up enough to enjoy it.
Apparently not.
She grabbed for her phone and couldn’t believe how late it was—half the day already gone. There was a message from Lena though, sent hours ago.
Come out to the barn if you feel like riding
OMG why didn’t anyone wake me?
Figured you needed your beauty rest. You were passed out so hard you didn’t even blink when Lachie picked you up
Well,that explained why she didn’t remember being carried to her bed.
You coming to ride? Or should I come up?
I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed
She went to the adjoining jack ’n’ jill style bathroom. It had two doors, one that opened onto her bedroom, and one that led to Lachlan’s, making the bathroom into a hall or a secret passageway. When Lena had given her the tour and Lachlan had introduced her to his cat, she’d noticed Pickle’s litterbox in the bathroom, and they’d worked out a system so the cat could have free rein. She’d keep the door to her room closed all the time, but Lachlan would use the hook-and-eye latch to lock it from the inside when he needed privacy.
Still, it felt weird to just yank the door open and barge into the bathroom. What if he’d forgotten to use the extra latch?
She rapped lightly on the door. When there was no answer, she knocked a little louder. Satisfied, she pushed the door open.
The bathroom was mercifully empty and the door to Lachlan’s room was wide open, his bed still an unmade tangle of sheets. Pickle was curled on his pillow, sleeping in a sunbeam, but there was no sign of the man himself. It should’ve been a relief, but instead she wondered what he was doing. She’d assumed he was on vacation—why else would he be staying with Lena and Heath?—but she really didn’t know anything about him other than he’d been in the Air Force. She hadn’t even asked him what he did for work now or how he spent his spare time. She knew plenty of guys who got out of the service and couldn’t hold down regular jobs. Lachlan didn’t seem troubled, but some people were good at hiding those kinds of scars.
She brushed and quickly braided her hair, pulled on her favourite breeches, and dug her safety vest and helmet out of her roller bag. Lachlan was right that she’d packed more than was necessary for a two-week trip—and that was something she needed to talk to Lena about, preferably before she got too far down a certain path with Lachlan. The time hadn’t been right the day before. She’d been too tired, and Lena had been too excited showing her everything about her training operation. The last thing Carissa wanted was to be a downer, but the truth was, she had no reason to rush back to California. Other than a rented room and a brother who was busy living his own life, she had nothing.
On that depressing note, she headed downstairs, which was just as deserted as upstairs had been. She helped herself to a granola bar, admired the work Lena and Heath must’ve done on the Christmas tree while she’d been passed out on the couch, and headed for the porch.
“There you are, Ladybug! I thought you’d never wake up!” Lachlan was sitting on the porch swing, a book—something spy-thriller-y from the look of it—in his hand. She hadn’t pegged him for a reader.
“And I woke up thinking I was still on the couch.”
“You going riding?” He hadn’t closed his book or put a bookmark in it, but instead he put it down on the swing next to him, splayed open, the spine breaking. It made her twitch to see it, so instead of stopping to chat, she kept on walking.
“Yeah, Lena says she’s got some horses for me.”
He was on his feet and down the porch steps before she was. “You mind if I come along?”
What was she going to say? No? It wasn’t like she could really stop him.
“It’s fine by me, but—”
