Beards and Holly (Magnolia Point)

Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

Holly

E lf ears. Check. Car keys, cold brew and cell phone. Check checkity check.

Heading outside, I lock the front door and head over to my fake boyfriend’s house. After last night, I’m feeling a little weird, and not just from the beers. Don’t get me wrong; the orgasms were amazing, but Jenson didn’t come. Not only that, he bolted so fast you’d think my house was on fire. It’s not as if I expected cuddling, but I won’t lie. I wanted to see his O face. To watch him come inside me.

I shake out of the thought and remind myself to play it cool. One more night of Mall Santa and a few more appearances with a Granny Rita, and I can go back to focusing on my career and forget all about Jenson’s soft side. Part of me is pissed after he sprinted out of my door last night. I need to hold onto that anger.

Speaking of the white-haired meddler, I see Rita through Jenson’s kitchen window. It looks like she’s beaten me over to her grandson’s house, and I see my opportunity to make good on my first fake-girlfriend appearance.

Making my way to his back door, I climb the steps and knock lightly. Would a girlfriend knock? I should have made muffins or brought him a cup of coffee. That’s what I would do if he was actually mine.

Within seconds, he swings open the door with a look of shock and clear shame, but I just smile.

“Good morning, handsome,” I say, pushing up to my toes to kiss him on his cheek.

I push by him not bothering to glance back and heading straight for Rita.

“Good morning, beautiful. I thought that was you I spotted through the window.”

“Oh good morning, dear. It’s so good to see you,” she says, leaning in for a hug. “Would you like a cup of coffee? I made muffins.”

That makes me snicker. “No, thank you. I actually came to pick up Jenson for Santa duty.”

I hear him grumble behind me.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m so glad to hear you’re helping out this sweet girl, Jenny. I’ll get out of your hair. Martha should be out front to pick me up to head down to the Farmers Market, anywho.”

“I can give you a ride, Grandma,” Jenson tells her as she heads for the door.

“No worries, lovebug. You two have a great night, now.”

Then just like that, she’s out the door, leaving the two of us alone in awkward silence. After a few beats too long, I decide to break the unwanted tension.

“Okay, well, that was appearance one. I’ll drive. Meet you outside, Santa,” I announce and head for the door.

It doesn’t take him long to join me in the car, but he’s back to his grumpy stoic nature. The drive seems longer in the quiet, and he clearly doesn’t want to talk about last night, so I don’t bring it up.

The day at the mall flies by with awkward glances and short answers. Jenson stays grumpy with me but puts on a smile for the kids, at least. By the end of the day, when I pull back into my driveway, I’m too tired to care about his attitude.

“Goodnight, Grumpy. Thanks for the favor. Let me know when you need me for girlfriend duty.”

I turn and head home. There’s a tray of Christmas tree sugar cookies on my counter I’ve been thinking about all day.

Once inside, I shed my elf clothes and opt for no bra, a baggy sweater, and some sweat pants. When I’m finally sitting down to watch A Christmas Story , I get a knock on the door, and I grumble as I get to my feet.

Standing outside, with perfectly styled hair and a clean, sawdust free button-up flannel, is my fake boyfriend.

Images from last night sweep through my head, making me feel flushed. Am I blushing? I really hope not.

“Hey,” Jenson says, rubbing the back of his neck. It’s almost as if he’s shy, which I know isn’t true. What’s he up to?

“Hey,” is all I reply.

“Would you be able to join me and my grandma for dinner tonight?”

For a moment, I think about it. I did promise, and I don’t really mind hanging out with Rita anytime, but I want to make him sweat. After a beat too long, he starts to shake his head. When he opens his mouth, I interrupt before he can say anything.

“Sure. Give me fifteen, and I’ll be ready.”

I leave him standing in my open doorway. It’s an invitation to come in that I hope he takes. If not, he can stand out there and wait. I rush upstairs to throw on a modest dress and heels, refresh my makeup, and spritz on just a little perfume. Because I want to smell good, and not because I want my grumpy neighbor to notice.

When I come back down, I notice Jenson’s made his way inside but is still standing by the door, looking guilty. Does he regret last night? My stomach sours at the thought. Was it so awful for him he couldn’t come, and that’s why he took off so fast? Fuck, this is the last thing I need to worry about before our first fake dinner date.

“Alright, I’m ready,” I mutter, already wishing I’d said no to this crazy scheme.

The one-night stands I’ve had in the past came like freight trains, and I was happy to never see them again. This feels all wrong and awkward as hell.

With his hands in his pockets, Jenson stares at me, so I make the move for the door beside him and open it. I wait for him to follow and then lock up. Still, he keeps his hands tucked away in his jeans. When we get to my car, he takes one out to open the door, then it goes back into his pocket. He sits beside me looking uncomfortable. I want to ask him what his deal is but find myself nervous. I hate this feeling. It’s like that childhood nightmare of standing in front of the class, just to realize you’re naked and everyone is staring in shock or laughing and pointing.

Jenson only speaks to give me directions, and for the first time, I wonder why I’m driving. It’s one thing to drive to work, which I’m so used. Tonight, his ass should have driven me. My mind reels and my nerves are shit by the time we pull up to a little house with a few strings of Christmas lights on it. This is Rita’s home, and from what I’ve gathered from her, it’s where Jenson was raised. It’s an intimate place for a fake date. How the hell am I going to play it cool all night?