he’s halting me until he opens his arm and showcases the hot-dog cart on the corner.
“You know, for a guy who hates touristy things, a dirty-water dog is about as touristy as you can get.”
“I know,” he admits. “But they’re really fucking good, and I only allow myself to eat a hot dog if I’m at a baseball game or sledding in Central Park.”
I lift my eyes to the sky and smile as I walk with him toward the cart. “Do you sled in the park often?”
“Not really. Only when my niece is in town.”
It surprises me that he’s the kind of guy who would take his niece sledding. Yes, I know that’s rude of me, but … well, he’s only given me so much of himself to actually see all these years.
We order hot dogs and sodas and then walk them to a nearby bench inside the park. With the trees blanketed in snow and the streetlamps overhead, there’s an ethereal glow to the evening. It’s peaceful despite the sounds of cars driving down Fifth Avenue.
We sit and eat in silence. It’s relaxing, just being here, looking at the stars and having a simple meal. Hunter and I have an easy way of talking, but it’s just as nice to be like this.
“I like sitting here with you. Usually, I’m wound up so tightly, hoping not to say the wrong thing. Hanging out with you these past few days has been a breath of fresh air.”
I look to Hunter with happiness gleaming in my eyes. His smolder is intense as he stares back at me.
“My best friend, Sofia, is the only person I’ve ever really been able to just be me around. And now, you.”
The corner of his mouth rises as he looks down at the snow and chuckles to himself. “Glad I can be a good friend.” His chest rises with a deep inhale. As he exhales, his smile falls, and then he gazes back at me. This time, there’s no smolder, just a neutral expression. “I’m happy I was able to help you with Branson. I am the master at courting.”
“That you are,” I state, unsteady. “Our two weeks aren’t up though.”
“Of course not. We have to get to New Year’s at least.”
“Right,” I state with a firm nod.
I’m done with my hot dog and drinking my soda when the wind sweeps in. My snow pants were great, but my ankles and waistband are soaked. The cold breeze makes me shriek as a shiver runs through my body.
“You okay there, kid?” Hunter asks.
I run my hands up and down my arms. “Yeah, just really cold.”
“Then, let’s get you home.”
We head over to the street, and Hunter walks to the edge, whistling loudly. An available taxi pulls up to the curb, and he opens the door for me.
“Text me when you get home,” he says as I slide in.
I look back at him, surprised he’s not riding back with me. “You got a hot date or something? Remember, you’re not supposed to be seeing anyone while we’re faux dating.”
His gorgeous grin widens as he says, “Don’t worry, kid. I’m not thinking about anyone but you.”
He closes the door and hits the top of the cab. I tell the driver my address, and we head down Fifth, toward my apartment. As I look out the back window, I see Hunter standing there—tall, strong, and so very confusing to my brain and heart.
Chapter Eight
“It’s not too late to come home with me for the holidays,” Sofia says as she attempts to zip up her suitcase. By zipping, I really mean, she has me sitting on top of it to smoosh it down while she walks around it and zips it up.
“I already told you, I’m fine. What do you have in this thing, by the way? You do know there’s a weight limit to these, right?”
“It’s all part of the airline’s scheme to rip people off. If it’s over, then I’m just gonna stand in the airport and dress myself in every layer of clothing until it’s below the limit. I don’t care if I look like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. My clothes are getting on that plane, come hell or high water!”
“Remind me to count my blessings that I’m not the airport agent who has to deal with you today.” My sarcasm is met with a smile.
“Come on. Florida sunshine, beaches, my mom’s horrible gingerbread pudding. The airfare to West Palm Beach isn’t that bad.”
I rise off the now-secured