“We’ll probably ring in the New Year with Ryan Seacrest and a bottle of bubbly.” He looked at her for approval.

“Perfect,” she said. A picture of her snuggled up next to him on a couch entered her mind. She mentally swatted it away.

“So how long have we been dating?”

Amanda set her cup down. “Hmm . . . let’s say, six months. Any longer, my family might question why the secrecy.”

“Okay, six months it is. All right, anything else I should know?”

“Why, yes, as a matter of fact.” She took another sip of her coffee. “My family is going to grill me more than you on what you’re like. So, here are your hobbies. Listen carefully.”

“Wait. Am I hearing this correctly? You are going to tell me what my interests are? Wouldn’t it be easier to just ask me questions and get to know me? We’ve got at least five more hours before we get there.”

“I don’t know. I kind of like what I came up with for you. Brad will hate you. Plus, it will be easier for me to remember on the spot.” She sighed. “You know how I am on thinking on my feet.”

“All right,” Tate relented. “Lay it on me.”

“You love to cook. Brad can’t boil water. You’re ambitious and would consider moving to a higher media market to further your career. You want to get married and have kids. Wanting kids is a must. Brad was never sure if he wanted kids.”

“That’s cool. All of it is true, by the way.”

“Now for your hobbies. You like to hike, play tennis, and golf on occasion. You love coffee, of course.” She picked up her cup and toasted the air. “You like talking politics and especially love political humor shows. You also enjoy watching old-time classic movies. Any song from the nineties makes you smile.” Amanda hit the first button on the radio, putting it back on the nineties channel. “Oh, and you like dogs, but you’re really a cat person.”

“Negative, Ace,” Tate said, switching back to the alternative rock station. “I’m allergic to felines.”

“Well, just say you like them.” She sighed. They had some work to do before she was ready to flaunt him in front of Brad. “It’s not like we’re adopting one this weekend.”

“But I don’t. Why do I have to like them?” he asked.

“Because I do,” she replied. “And Brad doesn’t.”

“Okay, fine. I love cats. But Amanda, you do realize who you are bringing home with you?”

“No, who?”

Tate reach over and changed the radio back to the nineties channel and turned the volume up. “You.”

Twenty minutes later, Amanda was still stewing in her seat. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and he drives too slow. Who under the age of sixty uses cruise control? Even her eighty-five-year-old grandmother with double knee replacements could have gotten them home faster. She smiled thinking about her grandmother. She couldn’t wait to see her. Her eyes rested on a shiny small object in the middle console.

“What’s that?” She pointed to the crystal rock.

Tate’s eyes followed hers. “It’s my good luck charm.”

“Good luck charm?” she repeated. “I wouldn’t peg you as the superstitious type.”

Tate shrugged. “I’m not. Someone gave it to me a long time ago. She told me my luck was about to change.”

“Oh, really? Who? Ms. Hot Pink Dress?”

“Why, jealous?”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

“Well, for your information, it wasn’t a girlfriend. Here, hold out your hand,” he instructed.

“No.” She defiantly made a tight fist.

“Seriously, hold it out.”

“Why?”

“Ace, you do realize you’re going to have to trust me at some point? It would probably make our dating more believable if you did. Here, let’s practice,” he said, mocking her exact words from earlier.

Amanda reluctantly opened up her hand. “Fine.”

He placed the soft shiny stone in her palm. “Consider this now your lucky charm.”

“You’re giving me your rock?” She peered at the tiny object.

“Sure am. I’m guessing that you might need a little luck on your side this weekend, facing Brad and all.”

“Hmmm. Thanks. You’re probably right.” Amanda slumped down in her seat and turned away, looking out the window. Was she ready to face Brad and meet his fiancée?

She eyed a group of outlet shops. It would be nice to get out and stretch for a bit. “Let’s pull off at the next exit,” she said, tugging on Tate’s sweater. “I need to pick up a few more comfy outfits for this weekend.”

“You didn’t pack enough?”

“I was kind of in a rush. It will be good to get out of the Jeep. Maybe grab something to eat.”

Tate dutifully swerved off the highway onto the exit ramp and luckily found an empty parking space not too far from the stores. The main entrance was crowded with holiday shoppers racing in every direction.

Amanda jumped out and shouted over the festive holiday music blasting from the outdoor speakers. “Okay, I’m going to find some jeans and sweaters. You . . .” Amanda reached inside Tate’s unzipped jacket and yanked on his sweater.

“Do me a favor and buy a new one. Oh, and you probably should look for some warm gloves and boots. You’ll be spending a lot of time outside with my father and brother this weekend. We’ll meet in thirty minutes for a quick bite.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Tate saluted. “Hey, why will I be spending a lot of time outside?”

“You’ll see.” Amanda grinned, pushing him in the direction of the stores. “Soon, my dear boyfriend, you are going to experience first-hand what it’s like to be one of Santa’s elves.

* * *

Tate sat in the dressing room chair waiting for Amanda to emerge from her dressing room. She was probably right. He wasn’t so good in the romantic department.

He thought back to their earlier conversation. She’d caught him off guard by bringing up the bus. It was best to let her continue thinking that was the first time they’d met—for now. When he told her the truth, he wanted it to be perfect.

“Hey, Ace. You about done in there?” He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his e-mail. Since breaking the story, he had dozens of e-mails for follow-up interviews. He decided all of that could wait until after Christmas. He’d probably hand them over to Amanda, anyway. It was the right thing to do.

“Almost.” Amanda stepped out of the dressing room wearing a black knit turtleneck sweater that hugged her body along with dark blue jeans. She surveyed herself in the three way mirror. “These jeans will do.”

“That they will,” he muttered.

She looked over shoulder. “Did you say something?”

“No.” He grinned.

Her hand reached back and into her sweater. “Can you do me a favor and rip the tag off? I think I’m going to wear it now. I can’t reach it.”

Tate stared at her back. She wanted him to reach inside her sweater?

“Can you see it?”

“Sure.” He gently reached in and yanked on the tag. His fingers brushed against her neck. The slight feel of her skin sent an electric shock through him. “Here you go.” He handed her the tag. He cursed himself for feeling flushed from simply touching her neck.

“Are you okay?” She looked over her shoulder again.

“It’s warm in here.”

She glanced one last time in the mirror. “Well, I’m done. I think I have everything I need.”

She certainly did, and everything he needed. “So, Amanda . . .” He stood and juggled his bags filled with his recent purchases. “Do you have any questions for me?” Sure, he’d play the charade she’d orchestrated, but he wasn’t going to give up on her getting to know him. Maybe if she did, she’d realize they had a lot in common. Maybe she’d see him as real boyfriend material.

Amanda went back into the stall and shut the door. “No. Not really. I’ll be quick. I just want to try on another pair of jeans.”

From his chair, he watched the denim fabric fall to her pedicured feet. How he wished he was on the other side.

He stood up and leaned his back on on the stall’s door. “No questions at all? We’ve been hot and heavy for a year. Surely, you have some questions that will help make our relationship more believable.”

“Six months,” she corrected him. “No, I think I’m good.”

“Excuse me. Six months. Don’t you want to know anything about me?”

There was silence in the stall. “Okay, what was the name of the first girl you kissed?” she asked.

“Melanie Clearwater. Summer camp.” He chuckled, but crossed his fingers behind his back. Melanie wasn’t technically his first kiss.

The door swung open. She was smirking. “Figures.”

“What?”

“With a name like that . . . let me guess . . . cute, blonde, and perky. Cheerleader, right?”

“Actually, she had long red hair and the biggest b—”

“Stop.” She reached up and put her hand in front of his lips. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“What? Her eyes were blue.”

Amanda turned to leave the dressing room. “It really doesn’t matter. I’ve already told you what your interests are. Remember? Golf, tennis, cooking . . .”

“Oh, right.” He nodded. “I forgot. I’m a version of you.”

“Tate, if this is going to work, you’ve got to stop trying to make this into more than it is.”

“What exactly is this to you?”

“Should I remind you that coming home with me for the holidays was your brilliant idea? Amanda gave Tate a puzzled look. “What I don’t quite understand is what exactly you’re getting out of this deal?”

He shrugged. “Just helping out my co-anchor .”

“Right. It’s all about helping me.” Amanda cocked her eyebrow skeptically. “Just like your on-air stunt yesterday. You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” She turned and headed to the register.

“No, no. I just thought you might want to learn something about the man you’re in love with.” He followed closely behind.

She turned around, flashing a devilish grin. He watched as she pulled a pine green men’s scarf from a mannequin and wrapped it around his neck.

“Pretending to be in love with,” she corrected. “And I do know something about you. You’re allergic to cats.”

After they finished shopping, they headed to the food court. While Amanda found an empty table, Tate pushed the cola dispenser, filling their cups.

What had just happened? The way she’d wrapped the scarf around his neck.

As far as flirting went, he realized it wasn’t nearly what he was used to—other women he encountered in Wilmington were much more aggressive. However, this was Amanda—his hot and cold co-anchor who was currently still miffed at him for yesterday’s debacle.

She’d get over it. Since he’d joined the news team, even his breathing seemed to irritate her. Still, every once in a while he’d catch her stealing a glance his way. He was determined to prove his attraction to her wasn’t one-sided.

“Okay, I get it.” He took a seat across from her. “I’m playing a part. But shouldn’t I learn a little bit about your family?” he asked.

“That’s probably a good idea.” Amanda pumped ketchup onto her plate and then opened a mayonnaise packet. She appeared to be mixing a dip for her fries.

“That’s disgusting.” He pointed to her red and white concoction.

“No it’s not,” she said. “Here, try it.” She dipped a fry and handed it to him.

He hesitated before taking a bite. “Not bad. I stand corrected.”

She shot him a smug smile. “All right. My family. There’s not too much to tell. I guess we’re an average American family. I’m the middle child of three. My dad’s name is Jack, and my mother’s is Diane.”

Tate burst out laughing. “That’s funny.” He dipped another fry into Amanda’s mixture and popped it into his mouth.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Jack and Diane. Like the John Cougar Mellencamp song.

Amanda had a blank expression on her face. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on. Don’t tell me you don’t know the lyrics. Everyone our age does.” He started to sing the song.

“I’m not as old as you,” she shot back and shoved another fry in her mouth. “As you know, my sister, Quinn, is having a baby at any moment. Quinn’s husband’s name is Mark and Alex’s girlfriend is Brenda. She and I were in the same class in high school. Quinn and Mark have been married for a year and a half. They eloped in Las Vegas.”

“Really? They didn’t want a hometown wedding?” Tate watched as Amanda’s green eyes filled up.

Oh, no. What had he said? He was always putting his foot in his mouth. He reached for her hand. “Did I say something wrong?”