Nichole wanted a beach chair under a shady palm tree and a good book. “Guest count at the reception?”
“Island-wide, open invitation.” He laughed and added, “It’d be a week-long celebration. What about your guest list?”
“Friends and family only.” Quaint and intimate versus rowdy and crowded. How much more proof did she need? “Your wedding sounds exhausting.”
“Let’s head back to your vineyard.” His chuckle released his grin. “What else is happening? An insider tour. Wine-making classes. Horseback rides.”
“Strolls through the vineyard. Simple wine tastings. Long, casual dinners.” She straightened, added a defensive edge to her tone. “What? When do we get to relax and enjoy each other’s company at your wedding festival?”
“Simple. At night under the stars on the yacht deck,” he said. “No other guests allowed.”
She liked that image. Too much. Nichole curled her fingers around the licorice package. The plastic crinkled into the silence.
Chase changed his grip on the steering wheel and remained quiet as if he too lost himself in the idea.
Annoyed his words made her consider more than she ever should, she yanked out another licorice rope, intending to distract him. She waved the licorice around. “These are not my favorite.”
“Don’t waste it.” Chase snatched the candy rope from her. “You must have chocolate truffles or a chocolate bar back there too. You were never without chocolate in high school.”
“I’ve upgraded to dark chocolate now that I’m an adult.” And she’d upgraded her standards. Recalling her favorite things would not make her heart tumble.
Nichole pulled out a package of sea salt truffles, her vendor call list and concentrated on the practical.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THREE HOURS AND too many licorice ropes later, Chase opened the front door to the main level of the secluded three-story château Travis had secured for Nichole and Chase’s ski-moon. A blast of cold air greeted them like a harsh hug from winter. “It feels colder inside the house than outside.”
“We need to get the heat on quick.” Nichole’s breath stalled in the air beside him, suspended as if encased in ice. She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “I’ll find the thermostat, if you unload the car.”
“Deal.” Chase rubbed his hands together and headed to his truck. It wasn’t long before he had moved the last suitcase and the cooler inside. Every step farther into the house, the air cooled another degree. And Chase second-guessed Travis’s choice of rental homes and his own ski-moon inspiration.
Nichole held her hand over the in-floor heat vent and scowled. “It just keeps blowing cold air.”
“I’ll call Travis.” Chase pulled out his cell phone, left Travis a voice mail and pressed buttons on the thermostat as if searching for proof he’d made the right choice coming to Tahoe.
He was alone with Nichole, cold and entirely too curious to know what else she remembered about him. Even more, he wanted to learn her story, not review game footage, study play charts or discuss offensive strategy. All because he’d been sidetracked by red licorice and Nichole’s consideration. She’d thought about him as she’d packed for their fake honeymoon. He’d forgotten the gnocchi Nonna had put together for their dinner. He’d only ever had one commitment: football. He belonged in one place: the football stadium. But with Nichole, he started to consider...
His cell phone vibrated in his hand, ruptured his thoughts and realigned his priorities. Working heat, first. Contract renewal, second. Chase disconnected his phone call and walked into the kitchen. “Good news. Travis got us a service appointment with a local heating company.”
Nichole closed the refrigerator and rubbed her hands together. “Bad news?”
“The tech won’t be here until tomorrow morning.” Chase motioned toward the door. “We can head into town and find a hotel room for the night.”
“Or make our own heat.” Nichole motioned to the wide stone fireplace. A stack of freshly cut wood waited beside the fireplace.
“Not sure we can warm this room up.” Chase stared at the log ceiling, more than two stories above his head. The right choice: leave and find a hotel. But another choice tempted him. “Let’s check out the rest of the house.”
Nichole headed upstairs. Chase searched the master bedroom suite on the opposite side of the main level. Five minutes later, Nichole called his name.
“Found an electric blanket in the guest room up here.” She leaned over the upstairs railing.
“Nice.” Chase locked his gaze on her, willing her to make the right choice. “Found a fireplace in the master bedroom with wood piled in the grate. I opened the flue and lit the fire.”
Now she’d tell him to extinguish it. Tell him to start the truck and head to a suitable hotel with individual hotel rooms.
“You know how to work a real fireplace?” She clutched the blanket.
“Come on down.” He turned around and headed toward the master bedroom suite. “See for yourself.” Then they would leave.
Nichole warmed her hands by the fire. “There are two more bedrooms, both suites, upstairs.”
“We both have to stay in here tonight.” Chase poked at the logs in the fire and his irrational suggestion. He added another log and waited for Nichole to walk out. She scooted closer to the fireplace, keeping her back toward the door.
Chase closed the wire mesh fire screen and opened his mouth. Now he’d tell her they should head to a hotel. If they stayed in the house, he’d forget. He’d forget he’d vowed not to learn more about her. He’d forget this was all pretend. “I can stretch out on the love seat.”
“You’re twice the size of the couch.” Nichole shook her head. “We’ll build a pillow wall and share the electric blanket on the bed.”
“A pillow wall?” Chase followed her to the four-poster bed, paused on the other side and scratched his chin. A cement wall dividing the bed wouldn’t cut off his awareness of her.
“It’s a barrier down the center of the bed. Made with pillows.” She quickly divided the bed into two halves.
“You’ve done this before?” Chase crossed his arms over his chest. She couldn’t seriously be constructing a
