“Color me surprised,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm as he crossed to the kitchen, pulled out two glasses from a high cupboard, and poured the rich ruby wine.

Suzanne grabbed hers and took an immediate fortifying gulp.

“Christ,” he said from the other side of the kitchen bench, picking his up but not taking a sip. “Just say it already.”

Placing her glass down, Suzanne tried to find her center through the slow wash of her pulse in her ears and the sudden thickness in her throat.

Right… Just. Say. It.

“I didn’t picture you as a pet fish kinda guy.” Yeah, okay…she totally chickened out. But she just needed a little more time to gather her nerves. It was tougher than she’d thought standing in front of him, asking him to be her fake rancher boyfriend.

“I’m not,” he said, with a dismissive shake of his head as if tough guy ranchers didn’t own fish. “It’s a turtle.”

Suzanne glanced at him. A turtle? Like a turtle was somehow a manlier pet to have than a fish? “You have a pet turtle?” She supposed it suited him—nothing soft and cuddly for Grady. Hell, she was surprised it wasn’t a porcupine.

“Yes.”

She blinked. He said it so matter-of-factly. “O…kay.”

“What kind of pet should I have?”

“I don’t know…a dog? Don’t ranch dudes have dogs?”

“I’ve had dogs. Turtles live longer.”

His lips were tight and his face was closed and forbidding in a way she hadn’t seen before, leaving Suzanne in no doubt she’d just stirred some Old Yeller memory when she was supposed to be getting him on her side. Fabulous. “Does it have a name?” she asked, trying to shift the focus from deceased pets to living ones.

He sighed. “Zoom.”

The laugh that spilled from her lips was completely involuntary. She’d expected him to say something like Rex or Rambo. Zoom was just too damn…cutesy. Nothing about Grady said cutesy. “You have a pet turtle named Zoom?”

He didn’t bother to reconfirm, just shoved his hands on his hips, his patience clearly at its end. “Quit stalling.”

Suzanne dropped her gaze to the bench—damn it, he had her number. Okay, fine. Sucking in a quick, deep breath, she ripped the Band-Aid straight off. “My parents, who are coming to visit, may be under the impression that you and I are romantically involved and living in sin in this cabin and that you are wild about Christmas, so much so that the place looks like something out of a Hallmark movie with enough tinsel and lights to be seen from space, and there’s mistletoe everywhere because you can’t keep your hands or lips off me.”

Grady stood perfectly still. Suzanne knew this because she snuck a peek at him from among the fluffy strands of her hair that had fallen forward. Then slowly, very slowly, he lowered his glass to the bench. It made a slight muffled tink as it met marble, which clanged as loud as a ringing bell inside her head.