Page 12 of Yours Temporarily

“Good thing I have a change of clothes in my office.” He keeps dusting off more remnants of flour from himself.

“You don’t need to change.” Careful not to slip on the floury floor, I move to the fridge for eggs. From what I’ve been told, all the executive offices have showers, which is probably why he isn’t stressed about the mess I made of him.

Our hands brush as he takes the salt from me, and a little zap sizzles through my veins.

Jeremy’s cautious yet willing participation in this wraps me up in warmth. Is it possible we might be cooking up something more than a fake-date arrangement?

***

The aroma of sizzling steak and freshly baking cookies fills the kitchen, while the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the steady hum of the refrigerator provide a comforting backdrop. Jeremy and I move in sync, and our easy conversation flows.

Taking advantage of the moment, I broach the subject of our gathering. It had better not be a sensitive topic. “I get the feeling your mom likes to be in control of things?”

He pauses his chopping, the green pepper forgotten. “What?”

“I mean, considering you feel the need to lie to her about your wedding date.”

His oh-so-well-formed lips curve, and his eyes gleam. “‘In control of things’ is putting it lightly. Spend two minutes with my mom, and you’ll see how much she loves micromanaging. If she could, even flies would be camping out in roses by her command.”

I laugh at his statement. “About your wedding proposition…” I stir the meat sizzling in the pan. “I’ve given it some thought, and I’m willing to do it.” Of course, I am! My heart races at the mere thought. He is undeniably handsome. What girl wouldn’t want to be his date, even if it’s just pretend?

He sets down his knife. “You’re agreeing to be my fake fiancée?”

Wait. Fiancée? “I thought it was just a fake date.”

“If we’re going to convince my mother of our relationship, a ring would make it more believable.”

I touch my naked ring finger. A fake proposal is far from the dream I’ve always harbored.

“I’ll buy the ring, of course,” he adds, seeming to notice my hesitation. “I know wearing a ring might be a step too far—”

“No, I’ll do it.” I shouldn’t have any second-guessing, really. “When is the wedding?”

“The first weekend in April, despite the unpredictable Colorado weather.”

“I’ve always wanted to visit Colorado.” I try not to focus on my financial needs. “Going there could be a trade enough in itself.”

He holds up a palm in the universal stop signal. “You need funds for your café, and that was our agreement.”

So he’s a man of his word. Even though I want to tell him to loan me the money instead, I’ll discuss that later. “This wasn’t the way I dreamed of a proposal.”

“No?”

I shake my head.

“What idea of a proposal did you have in mind?” With his tone light and carefree, he keeps his full focus on me. The knife now rests on the cutting board, and he seems interested in what I have to say rather than the task I assigned him. Might as well tell him since he’s becoming a friend, sort of.

“It’s silly, but I like it simple. Thoughtful proposals, nothing overly fancy, but something unusual.” I flip the steak strips, thinking of the different engagements I see in movie scenes. “A proposal in the rain or on a hike. Something not too planned.”

“Quite a romantic, huh?”

“Takes a romantic to know one.” I snatch the garlic bulbs on the plate, put them in the press, then squeeze garlic into the meat, and add salt and pepper. “I’ve never played a fake fiancée before, but I guess we’ll need some practice runs if we have to convince your mom.”

“Trust me, where my mother is concerned, we need to be very convincing. She’ll watch you like a hawk.” His jaw clenches when he mentions the length of his mom’s effort to reunite him with his ex. “That’s why we need at least two months to get our facts straight.”

“Hence, the need for practice.” Which may be harder than I anticipated. Especially if he often looks this endearing with a dusting of flour on his chin.

The timer goes off. Using a kitchen towel, I pull the cookies out of the oven.

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