3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next day, as Taylor walked into City Hall, waving to Abe, the security guy at the front desk, it was quiet.

Usually the day after the tree lighting it was, but it felt especially quiet as he walked through the halls towards his office. Most of the offices and desks he passed were unsurprisingly empty.

At least until he got to his own, and when he walked in, Mona was sitting in the chair opposite his desk, teacup in hand, concern written across her face.

“What’s up?” Taylor asked, flopping into his chair and pulling a can out of the little fridge underneath his desk. Popping open the energy drink made him think, inevitably, about Rocco Moretti .

Not that since their conversation last night, he’d left Taylor’s mind much.

In fact, it kind of felt like he’d taken up semi-permanent residence there.

Mona leaned forward. “I wanted you to be the first to know, Taylor. Someone new applied for the city manager job today.”

Taylor’s insides froze. “What? Who?”

“His name’s Steve Mills. He grew up here, then left for college at eighteen. Finished, built a business, retired early, and came back here. He could be a serious candidate. Serious .”

Taylor was trying not to panic. “So he’s from here. Okay. But he hasn’t lived here since he was eighteen. That’s surely not ideal, either.”

“He’s forty-five, and I looked him up on social media—he’s got a wife and three daughters.” Mona made a face. “They’ve got all those family pictures up, you know, where they’re all wearing matching outfits.”

Taylor leaned back in his chair. He was panicking now. Undeniably. “Shit.”

“I asked around. It seems like he sees this job as a way to boost his future political aspirations. To take my job eventually? Then to use it to run for state senator? Possibly.”

“I . . . no .” Taylor didn’t know what to say. Would he have stepped aside if this Steve Mills guy was good for the town? Maybe he might have. Because even more than he wanted to be the one to help lead Christmas Falls into more decades of prosperity, he wanted it to happen, period . If Steve Mills was the person to make that happen, he’d have conceded.

But if he was only looking at the job as a way to move up the political food chain . . .well, Taylor wasn’t going to let that happen.

He cared about his career prospects, sure, but he cared about this town even more than that.

He’d fight with every tool in his arsenal before Steve Mills used this town to get ahead.

“We’re going to fight him, of course,” Mona said tightly. “We both will.”

“Yeah, we will,” Taylor said. “But how ? This isn’t an elected position.”

But Taylor already knew what he was thinking. What he hadn’t freaking stopped thinking about, since Rocco Moretti had brought it up last night.

“This Mills guy is smart so he’ll be around. At all the events. I guess he was at the lighting last night. You’ve got to match him. Remind everyone why you’re the best candidate for the job, because you care so much about the future of this town. That maybe you weren’t born here, but that it’s in your blood now and in your heart. And if . . .” Mona trailed off, then shook her head. “No, I feel bad about trying to push Heath at you last night. You shouldn’t need a family to look like you can successfully run a family oriented town. You do it now, and there’s no real difference. ”

“But,” Taylor hedged, “it would look better, right?”

She looked surprised. “It would, but Taylor, don’t date someone just for this. Date someone because you genuinely like them. Because you don’t want to bury yourself in work for the rest of your life.” She shot him a reprimanding look.

Taylor couldn’t say whether or not he genuinely liked Rocco. But he could say, at least, they’d be on the same page. And he did not bury himself in work, thank you very much.

“I’ve got a possibility in mind,” Taylor said.

She looked shocked. “Heath, after all?”

“Not Heath.” Though God , he would have been a hundred times easier and better at this, probably. Still. It wasn’t like Rocco Moretti would be bad at this. He’d just be . . .complicated.

“Then who?”

“I’ve got this handled,” Taylor said. If he told his boss the truth, that he and Rocco weren’t going to be falling madly in love but only pretending to fall madly in love, he had a feeling what she’d say.

No, to everyone else it needed to look totally legit.

And what would be more legit than heading over, first thing in the morning, to Jolly Java?

It was decently busy for a Friday morning, especially after a big event .

The town—and its tourists—needed a shot of sugar and caffeine after a late night partying at the tree lighting.

Rocco split time between the register, playing at the friendly, charming new business owner in town, and the shiny rose gold espresso machine he’d had installed when he’d bought Jolly Java. It was a serious upgrade over what the prior owners had, but of course, not a single soul had mentioned how much better the coffee was.

No. They’d only mourned the loss of pumpkin freaking spice.

By ten, he and Rebecca had dealt with the crowd, then he turned to stocking the pastry case as Rebecca leaned against the counter and watched him.

“So,” she asked, “what did you do after the lighting? Please tell me you didn’t actually come back here and binge The Real Housewives of Duluth .”

“I . . .uh . . .actually, I went to Rudolph’s.”

He did not mention that after his single espresso martini, he’d come home. Thinking the whole time, as he got ready for bed and lay there, sleep eluding him, of the insanity he’d suggested to Taylor Hall.

Taylor Hall, that tall, quiet hunk of a guy who had set his pulse racing the one time he’d stopped by Jolly Java, to welcome him to Christmas Falls .

Rocco had remembered the way his quick, brisk handshake had felt for ages after. For someone who pushed paper all day, he had nice hands. Big and not too soft. Just calloused enough.

Rocco shivered again, thinking about them.

What had he been thinking?

That they could solve both of their problems, possibly, and also the third one, which was Rocco’s current dry spell.

“Oh yeah? Meet anyone interesting?” she asked casually.

Which told him that the bartender at Rudolph’s, had probably noticed him talking to Taylor and had mentioned it to someone else, who’d probably spread it to the whole town.

Rocco rolled his eyes. “Who told you?”

“Mrs. Lil mentioned it to me when I walked to work this morning.”

He’d assumed he understood the small town gossip mill from his time in Indigo Bay, but Christmas Falls had a whole other gear that he was still adjusting to.

“What else did she say?”

Rebecca grinned. “How cozy you two looked.”

If Taylor had agreed to Rocco’s plan, this would’ve been a great way to lay their groundwork. Spotted together once, and now the town was already ready to couple them up.

“We had one drink, and it wasn’t even like we came in together. He was there and I just sat next to him.”

“Lots of seats in Rudolph’s,” she pointed out.

And okay, yes that was true .

After they’d met for the first time, Rocco had done his research—easy in this town, where all you had to do to find out about anyone was ask—and discovered that Taylor Hall was gay and single and had not, in anyone’s memory, dated anyone at all.

If he was dating or even hooking up with anyone, he was being so discreet even the town rumor mill hadn’t learned of it, which meant that his dry spell was possibly quadruple Rocco’s own.

Knowledge Rocco told himself he wasn’t interested in and didn’t need to do anything about.

But then he’d gone and made that suggestion last night. Half of the blame rested firmly with his own desperation to make this business work, and half was almost definitely generated from the kernel of that knowledge, buried deep inside, that he’d been unsuccessfully attempting to ignore.

“He is cute,” Rocco allowed. There was nothing wrong with laying some groundwork just in case. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t already told Taylor to his face that he thought he was hot.

“You should ask him out,” Rebecca said. Still casually. But he could practically feel her eagerness.

“I don’t think he’s interested,” Rocco said, but he didn’t know if that was necessarily true. Taylor had that interesting polite-but-cold front, but for a second, Rocco had sworn he’d felt the same attraction he did.

He’d just hidden it better .

Well, that made sense, because Rocco didn’t care about hiding it.

“You don’t know that he’s not,” Rebecca said encouragingly. “You two would be so cute together.”

“Not everyone wants to date,” Rocco said, which was true.

He’d hoped to be far too busy for a boyfriend. Yet, he’d gone and sat next to Taylor anyway, at Rudolph’s, and then had made that suggestion.

Really, he was lucky Taylor hadn’t looked at him like he was nuts and gotten as far away from him as possible. Okay, he hadn’t agreed , but he had said he’d consider it, in that quiet, considerate, restrained way of his.

That way that made Rocco want to know what Taylor Hall would be like when all that restraint melted away.

“You forget I saw you two the first time you met,” Rebecca added slyly. “There was definitely some kind of heat there. He stammered more than once. Taylor doesn’t do that.”

“Maybe he was massively embarrassed that I was making a pumpkin spice-sized mistake,” Rocco retorted.

“And you stared at his ass on his way out.”

“Have you seen his ass? It’d be a crime to not look at it.”

The front doorbell chimed, but before Rocco could straighten up and look at who’d come in, Rebecca said, “Keep telling yourself that, okay?”

“Why— ”

But before Rocco could get the rest of the question out, he spotted why she’d said it in the first place, and why she’d said it all knowing and fond like that.

Because yep, there was Taylor himself, approaching the front counter.

“I’ll be cleaning the tables,” Rebecca said and then embarrassingly headed instead towards the back, making it crystal clear just what she was doing.

Leaving the two of them alone-ish, other than the pair of tourists by the window who were sharing a ham and gruyere croissant sandwich and a large pot of coffee.

“Hey,” Taylor said.

“Come in to discover what you’ve been missing?” Rocco asked. His brain kept screaming, hot guy, hot guy, hot guy , and he couldn’t seem to help the flirty comment.

Taylor gave him one of those blank-ish, stern looks with his light blue eyes, and Rocco shouldn’t have been so into that, but he was, undeniably.

I just want to know how deep that ice goes.

“I’m not here for coffee,” Taylor said.

Oh yes, please , Rocco’s uncooperative subconscious purred.

“But surely I can persuade you to try something . I promise, I’ll keep my goat cheese to myself,” Rocco teased. But that’s all I’ll keep to myself .

Taylor flushed, and there it was. The first inkling of what lay beneath all that composure. “Maybe . . .uh . . .what doesn’t have coffee in it?”

“Hot chocolate? Caramel apple cider?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t take those off the menu, too,” Taylor said, his voice calm and serious, but his eyes full of amusement.

He was teasing, just like he had last night, and Rocco liked it, maybe a little too much.

Well, at least if you end up faking it, it’ll look really convincing.

“I’ll make you anything you want, even pumpkin spice,” Rocco said, leaning across the counter. Taylor stuck his hands deeper into his coat pockets. “Anything at all.”

“How about uh . . .that apple cider? That sounds good.”

“You got it,” Rocco said. He didn’t bat his eyelashes flirtatiously. After all, he was a goddamned professional.

Taylor watched him carefully as he grabbed the cider from the fridge under the counter and heated it up in one of his metal pitchers, then as Rocco swirled homemade caramel sauce into a cup. He didn’t ask Taylor if he was enjoying his beverage here or taking it to go. Maybe that wasn’t professional, but he wanted Taylor to hang around for at least the time it took for him to enjoy his drink.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Taylor asked quietly .

It wasn’t hard for Rocco to know which thing he was asking about.

But he wasn’t against making Taylor work for it, a little.

“Which thing I said?” Rocco asked, feigning ignorance as he carefully poured the cider into the mug. He topped it with whipped cream and another swirl of caramel sauce. Setting it on the counter in front of Taylor, he gave in to the temptation and shot him a single smoldering glance.

“Uh, you know,” Taylor said, stammering again a little.

“One sec. Let me make a coffee and I’ll join you. That corner’s quiet.” Taylor looked like he was about to say something like, all your corners look quiet , but before he could, Rocco added, “And yes, I know. It’s quiet today. But hopefully, we can fix that.”

“That’s the idea,” Taylor said.

Rocco quickly made himself a latte and then joined Taylor at one of the tables.

“So you changed your mind,” Rocco said.

Taylor shot him a look that promised he wasn’t nearly as cold as he presented as being. “I never made up my mind,” he retorted. Took a sip of his cider and gave Rocco an approving nod. “This is delicious. I had this probably half a dozen times before you bought this place and it never tasted this good.”

“I know,” Rocco acknowledged. “I changed a few things.”

Taylor chuckled. “Are you incapable of leaving anything as it was? ”

“Pretty much. I like to improve things. It’s a personal strength and apparently also a failing.”

“This town isn’t big on change,” Taylor said gravely.

“Believe me, I’ve learned that. The hard way.”

“Well, I think you were right about one thing. We can help each other,” Taylor said.

“Oh?” Rocco raised an eyebrow.

“Remember how I said last night there were no other serious, qualified candidates for my job? Well, scratch that. Someone applied this morning. Someone who was born here, is not young, and has a picture-perfect Christmas card family.”

“Ouch.”

“It doesn’t make me a worse candidate, necessarily, but it does give me more competition. I’ll need to work harder to look better in the city council’s eyes.”

“And that’s where I come in.”

Taylor nodded. “That’s where you come in. You make me look settled and happy, because God forbid anyone could be settled or happy without at least a partner.”

“Hey, sex makes a whole lot of people happy.”

Rocco enjoyed watching Taylor choke on his cider. “That isn’t . . .I didn’t mean . . .”

“Chill,” Rocco said. “I said fake , which means we’ve only got to convince everyone we’re getting it on, not that we’re actually getting it on. ”

Not that he’d be averse. In fact, the opposite was true. But Taylor’s reaction to him even saying the word sex told him everything he needed to know. Taylor might be intrigued by him, but he wasn’t even close to ready to tangle in the sheets.

“Right. Okay.” Taylor cleared his throat. “You really want to do this, then?”

“Sounds like we both need to, now,” Rocco said.

Taylor sighed. “I hate the thought that the council might vote for me and not for this other guy because of this, but I know I’ll be better at the job. From what Mona said, I’m certainly going to be more committed to this town.”

“Sometimes we do shitty things for good reasons,” Rocco said. Shot Taylor a lopsided grin. The certified Moretti grin that never failed to reel anyone in within a ten-foot radius, and it didn’t come close to failing now, either. From his pink cheeks to the tremor of his fingers as he gripped his mug, it certainly seemed to have some kind of effect on Taylor. “Besides, it might be fun.”

“Fun?”

“You know what that is, right?” Rocco joked. “Or are you too buttoned up, too committed, too much of a workaholic—”

Taylor shot him a look, interrupting Rocco’s recital, and this one wasn’t just warm, it was downright hot. “I know what fun is.”

“Alright.” Rocco nodded, pretending that his throat wasn’t suddenly dry .

He liked playing with fire, but only when he was sure he wouldn’t get burned.

“We’ll need to have a plan,” Taylor said, all official. That shouldn’t have been hot, either, but it definitely was.

“You don’t want to just play it by ear?”

“Did you ‘play it by ear’ when you took pumpkin spice off the menu?” Taylor challenged.

Rocco wasn’t surprised the guy had thought it. Taylor wasn’t old, couldn’t be more than thirty, and he was up for a promotion—a position that he was told was really the whole power behind the town—so he was hardly a slouch. But Rocco was surprised he’d said it.

“Fair. Ouch, but fair,” Rocco said. “For the record, I do have a business plan. A good one, actually.”

“I believe it,” Taylor said, redeeming himself, slightly.

“Alright, so a plan. Like a dating plan?”

“I was thinking about this. First, you gotta get into the town more,” Taylor said. “Let people see you as more than just the idiot who took pumpkin spice off the menu and tried to force-feed them goat cheese.”

Rocco winced. “I think we either need to ban that phrase or . . .” He paused, an idea blooming in his mind. “We should actually make it your safe word.”

Taylor’s eyebrows rose, nearly to his hairline. “My safe word? ”

“Well, our safe word,” Rocco revised. “For example, if I ever do something that makes you feel uncomfortable. Too coupley. Or too romantic. Or too much like you want to drag me to bed? Just say goat cheese .”

Taylor threw back his head and literally cackled.

Rocco had never seen him laugh like that and couldn’t help but pat himself on the back and also let himself actually enjoy the sound of Taylor’s laugh. The sheer joy in him, that he, from everything Rocco had seen, didn’t let anyone see.

If that was why he wasn’t immediately the front runner for the city manager job, that was probably why.

He kept this part of himself so restrained, so hidden, and God , it was wonderful. Rocco couldn’t stop staring at him as he laughed.

“What about your safe word?” Taylor asked when he finally stopped laughing.

“You don’t want to share goat cheese?”

“Gladly,” Taylor said, still chuckling. “So that’s that part of the plan, I guess.”

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s the most important part,” Rocco pointed out.

“What else . . .well, we’ll need to establish how we started dating?”

Rocco considered this. “Better to stick to the truth, right? The first time we met, I was intrigued, and then the other night, I deliberately sat next to you at Rudolph’s. You were also intrigued and got my number. Asked me out on a date . . .we’ll say, in a few days?”

Taylor leaned back in his chair. “You’re scarily good at this.”

“I am, aren’t I?” Rocco would take the compliment, especially considering how fiercely his ego was smarting over the Jolly Java situation.

“Do I want to ask why? You said your cousin did this . . .”

“ They weren’t all that convincing though,” Rocco said, not realizing he’d made a tactical error until a frown appeared between Taylor’s eyebrows.

“You said it worked out, though.”

“Well, yes , it did,” Rocco added hurriedly. “In the end, they absolutely convinced my Auntie that they were dating. The rest of us? Well, it was a little bit of an over-the-top performance so we were less convinced.”

“But she was the target, so it was okay?”

Rocco relaxed a fraction. “Exactly,” he confirmed. That wasn’t entirely accurate but it was accurate enough. And hopefully Taylor would never need to know the truth about the origin of his cousin Enzo and his boyfriend Will’s very loving, very real relationship.

“Alright. So we stick to the truth as close as possible. We don’t overact.”

“Should be pretty easy, acting like you’re into me,” Rocco said, winking .

Taylor chuckled. “Does that work? Scratch that. Don’t tell me. I bet it does. Ridiculously well.”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Maybe this time you should,” Taylor joked.

“True. So, you’re going to ask me out on a date. Where are we going?”

Taylor pulled out one of the flyers the festival committee had produced, all shiny and glossy, this year’s schedule listed out in black and white, framed in curling red and green plaid ribbons.

“I marked a few possibilities. Like I said, I think the biggest thing is reminding the town that you’re part of us now.”

“Kind of like what you need to do,” Rocco said.

Taylor nodded. “So we’re going to stick to a lot of the festival events. Best way to be seen. Best way to look like we’re a part of Christmas Falls. I’d be going to a lot of them anyway, as deputy mayor, but it’ll be nice to not be alone.”

Rocco wanted to ask if it would be nice to be less alone why Taylor always seemed to keep himself at arm’s length, but he didn’t. That was more of a third-fake-date kind of question.

“Alright, what do we have?” Rocco leaned in, scanning the flyer. Taylor did too, at almost the exact same time, and Rocco glanced up, only realizing a second too late just how close their faces were.

Taylor’s hair was nearly as dark as Rocco’s own, but his eyes were so crystal clear it was like looking deep into . . .

No. Snap out of it.

Goat cheese. Goat cheese. Goat fucking cheese.

“Uh, what about this one?” Rocco pointed at one of the events, not really bothering to read what it was. Did it really matter, anyway? As long as it was in the late afternoon or evening, he’d be able to attend.

“Oh, yeah, well I guess that makes sense you’d pick that one,” Taylor said, and Rocco looked a little closer at what he’d just blindly pointed out.

Holiday Wine Tasting.

It was in three days, at six thirty on Monday night, and hosted at The White Elephant.

“What, because I’m Italian?” Rocco questioned.

Taylor nodded. “You like wine, right? Or is that—”

“Well, it is a cliche, sure. But yes, I do like wine.” Rocco internally winced at how bad the wine was probably going to be. After spending a year in Indigo Bay, with his cousin Luca’s cellar to pick from, it couldn’t possibly compare, so he was just going to have to adjust his expectations.

Besides, it would be wet and contain alcohol. Something Rocco was sure he’d need if he was going to spend an entire evening faux-flirting with Taylor Hall.

“Alright, that’s perfect then. Makes me look all thoughtful and shit,” Taylor said.

“Are you not?”

Taylor shot him a look and his back stiffened. “It’s not that I’m bad at this, I just haven’t . . .not in a while. ”

“Ah.”

“Not that it’s been a long, long time or anything,” Taylor said hurriedly. “I do date.”

“Uh-huh.” Rocco wasn’t going to say anything. Just let the guy dig his own hole.

“I date,” Taylor repeated in a very insistent tone.

“Sure.” Rocco paused and grinned. “You wanna say goat cheese? I didn’t even do anything.”

“ No . I’m fine. I don’t need to say . . .” Taylor cleared his throat. “Goat cheese. Not even remotely.”

“Okay. So the wine tasting it is. What else did you want to cover in this plan of yours?” Rocco finished his latte, glancing up as a few customers walked in. Rebecca could handle them, but he also liked to be present, front and center, for every visitor these days. Maybe it didn’t mean anything, but it was something he could do.

Other than fake dating Taylor, that was.

“You need to go?” Taylor asked.

“Soon, but not right now.”

“There’s one big thing left.” Taylor looked uneasy. “Are we going to tell anyone the truth?”

Rocco considered this. “I don’t have anyone here that I’d care about knowing the truth.” Rebecca was a friend and an employee, but she’d already guessed that he and Taylor were interested in each other, so it would be easiest to just let her continue assuming. As for his family, none of them were here in Christmas Falls. Would he tell any of them? He couldn’t see it, considering how they’d want, in all their overdramatic Moretti-ness, to interfere.

“Me either. My dad’s in Chicago and doesn’t usually come for the holidays.”

Rocco wanted to ask why not. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but before he could, Taylor said, “And as for my boss, she told me to take care of it. Maybe she guesses we’re not legitimately dating, but I think better not to tell her directly. Plausible deniability?”

“Works for me,” Rocco said, nodding.

Taylor looked at his watch again, and Rocco had a feeling that was his indication this “planning meeting” was over.

Trust Taylor to approach fake dating like it was a meeting at Town Hall.

Rocco resolved to help him loosen up a bit. Starting with right now.

“Well, I’d better make sure Rebecca doesn’t need any help,” Rocco said, standing up. Taylor followed suit, rising to his feet. “It was nice to see you again.” He raised his voice a little more. “I’m looking forward to the wine tasting.”

Taylor was looking everywhere but at him directly. “Me too.”

“Remember,” Rocco said, dropping his voice to a murmur, “that your safe word is goat cheese, okay?”

“Why— ”

But Taylor didn’t get the whole question out, before Rocco was reaching out and tugging him into a firm, affectionate hug. For a second, Taylor stiffened, maybe in shock, and then he relaxed into it.

If Rocco had anything to say about it, Taylor was definitely one of those clean-living types, with a hard body to match that attitude, deliciously firm against his own.

He was also the perfect height too—approximately four inches taller than Rocco himself—and bigger and broader in all the right ways.

Rocco didn’t really want to let go, but he knew he should. After one last squeeze of Taylor’s very nice shoulders, he released him.

“You good?” Rocco asked under his breath.

Taylor smiled. “I didn’t say goat cheese, did I?”

“No, you did not.” Rocco didn’t add that he’d been feeling a little goat-cheesy himself. He didn’t say it because it was just a hug, for goodness’ sake. They were going to have to do a lot more than that if they wanted to convince Christmas Falls they were dating—though considering the town’s gossip mill, maybe not that much more.

Rocco didn’t know if he was excited or disappointed by that realization.

“Well, thanks for the cider. It was really good.”

“Of course it was,” Rocco said, patting him on the arm. That very firm, muscled arm .

He snatched his hand back.

Goat cheese.

“I’ll see you around,” Taylor said.

And then he was gone, the bell over the door tinkling as it closed behind him.

Freaking goat cheese.