Million Dollar Christmas Bride - Holly Rayner Page 0,40
items were scattered on the floor, coffee table, and couch. She saw her ankle boots, one tipped against the other, just as she’d left them the night before.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway caused her to dart forward and reach for the first clothing item she could get her hands on—Jackson’s button-up shirt. She wrapped it around her torso in one swift motion, just in time.
A maid, carrying a duster in one hand and a small trash bin in the other, walked into the room. She started at the sight of Bianca. “Oh! Pardon me, ma’am. Pardon me.” She began backing away.
“It’s okay,” Bianca said, hoping that her presence didn’t bother the woman. “It’s fine, I’m just—” She stopped abruptly, unsure of what to say. What am I doing here? she thought to herself. The question struck her on a deep level, and she found she didn’t know what else to say.
“Excuse me,” the maid continued backing up. “So sorry.”
Bianca hugged her body so that the sides of the unbuttoned shirt overlapped over her stomach. She was glad that Jackson was so built and tall. His shirt easily covered her, almost like a short dress. Still, she felt embarrassed to be seen in it and was relieved when the maid disappeared from sight.
The interaction, brief as it was, left Bianca feeling shaky. The idea of fresh air and some privacy beckoned her, so she crossed the room and let herself out onto the balcony.
The morning was brisk. She reached for a fleece blanket that was folded along the back of one of the patio chairs, then buttoned up Jackson’s shirt and curled up in the chair with the blanket around her.
My car is still at Dove Meadows, she thought. Jackson’s going to have to give me a ride back there.
She let her head fall into her hands. Her mind was spinning with memories of the night before. It had all been so sweet, so good, so beautiful, so satisfying… so exciting. But was it worth it? What would the night of passion do for her budding relationship with Jackson?
She felt confusion stir in her gut. It was a familiar feeling.
Here I am again, she thought. Back where I always find myself—confused and lost. I wish that for once, I could just have some clarity.
A restless sensation filled her, and she stood up and walked to the edge of the balcony. She looked out over the edge and saw cars far below, moving along miniature roads.
Everyone knows their destination except for me, she thought. All those people down there have lives that make sense. Husbands, wives, children…
And what about me? I’ve done what I always do—entered into a confusing relationship that doesn’t follow the traditional path. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I ever be normal?
She thought of all of her friends who had dated guys, fallen in love, and then gotten engaged. Marriage followed, and then a home, a dog, and soon a baby or sometimes two.
That’s what’s supposed to happen, she thought.
Her mind turned to Jackson. Since the first day she’d met him, she’d felt so torn. Of course, she was attracted to him. It had been hard work to keep her feelings reined in, so she could be what he needed—which was a fake fiancée.
Fake, she reminded herself. He’s never expressed interest in a real relationship. Then what was last night all about? What did it mean?
A faint scraping sound made her turn toward the building. She saw Jackson, pulling open the sliding glass doors.
Behind him, she saw Peaches and Rufus. Peaches looked longingly out at Bianca, and as soon as the glass doors were open enough, she skirted around Jackson and ran right over, tail wagging low and quick.
Bianca crouched down and hugged her dog. “It’s okay. I’m right here,” she said, picking up on her dog’s uncertainty. Like Bianca, Peaches wasn’t used to spending the night anywhere but the cottage.
“You’re up early,” Jackson said in a gentle, groggy tone, as if he was still trying to wake up. His eyes squinted in the light, and his body posture was relaxed, as if he wasn’t experiencing any of the inner turmoil that Bianca was feeling.
Maybe all he wanted was to sleep with me, she thought. Maybe, now that we’ve spent the night together, he’s going to move on. It’s the same old story, all over again.
Her mind churned with memories of her many failed relationships. Guys always ghost after they get what they want, she thought.