Page 11 of Faking it with my Off Limits Neighbor

“How long ‘til you’re due?” I ask.

“Four weeks,” she replies.

“It’ll fly by,” I say, waving a dismissive hand and sounding like I know what I’m talking about.

Of course, I have absolutely no clue. While I have not admitted it to any other person, not even Milly, I do want children of my own someday. The worry is that my biological clock looks like the speedometer of a rally driver, and I’m starting to fear that it’s not going to happen for me. Eddy was supposed to be the father of my children. As it happens, one woman wasn’t enough for him.

I’m draping my scarf across the back of my chair and placing my purse on the floor by my feet when an almighty cheer roars from those at the table, scaring me half to death. When I jerk my head up to see what on Earth is going on, this whole scenario becomes clearer than my windows after a spring clean.

Milly is standing beside her brother, who looks as astounded as I feel. The men are chanting, “Bring the heat! Bring the heat!” Upon hearing it, Troy seems to recover far more quickly than I do as he laughs at the guys’ antics.

It was a play on his name when they all used to play football for the school team. The jocks being, well, jocks. Of course, Troy was a main player, and being fast and muscular gave him somewhat of a reputation on and off the field.

I’m still completely gobsmacked, and as Milly scans the room, looking utterly delighted with herself for managing to surprise her older brother, she catches my eye. The huge grin suddenly falls, and she looks at me sheepishly. I can feel annoyance welling up in me, but I bite it back. I can’t kill her in this room; there are too many witnesses.

My glare moves from Milly to Troy, who is currently looking at me with the same surprise he expressed upon his arrival. After my antics this morning, he’s probably wondering what the devil I’m doing here. I have to admit, I’m wondering the same thing.

I could leave. I could make my excuses and sneak away. I’ll bet no one would even notice. But surely I’m being childish. Am I not a grown woman who runs her own successful business? Shouldn’t I be able to handle this situation?

Yes. And… no.

Suck it up, Charlie. Leaving now will make you the talk of the town. Just act natural.

Sure, of course. Because that’s totally easy under the circumstances, isn’t it? Maybe I shouldn’t have swerved to avoid Mrs. Burton yesterday evening. At least being in jail would’ve given me a good excuse not to be here.

After the meal and lots of banter and chatter, with fourteen people all having completely different conversations, I get up and make my way to the bar. I don’t drink; I have my father’s antics to thank for that. I just need a little breathing space. I never was good with crowds. Being an only child, I got used to enjoying my own company.

I order a Coke and wait for the bartender to deliver. A second later, I feel someone come and stand beside me. I don’t need to look over to see who it is. Like some sixth sense, I just know it’s him.

“Hey,” Troy says.

“Hey,” I say back.

I pin on a smile. It stops him from seeing the inner turmoil of my lurching stomach as his soft woody scent floats over to greet me. Like that schoolgirl all those years ago, I am, once more, reduced to a nervous wreck.

Well, okay. Maybe not a nervous wreck. I’m far more confident now than I have ever been in my entire life. And yet, the presence of this man, standing not a foot away, seems to undermine my ability to hold my own. Not that I’m going to let him see that.

Besides, beneath the nervousness remains the anger at what he did to me ten years ago. I should be grateful that I was best friends with his sister, or I might have thought of every worst-case scenario after he disappeared. But when she told me he had left, and when I realized he was not returning, I spent quite some time going through the stages of grief.

The thing is, I didn’t realize that I still held some anger. It is only his return that has made me aware that I didn’t process all the emotions I thought I had.

“Thanks for coming tonight. I figured after this morning”—he shrugs—“that you wouldn’t want to be here.”

I could be brutally honest. I could tell him that I would not have come, had his little sister not tricked me. But as he gazes at me, those dark brown eyes like swirling pools of delight, I just can’t put him through it. I’m angry, but I just can’t be that cruel.

“I was in a hurry,” I say.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked smile. A smile that tells me he doesn’t believe me for a second. I can’t lie to save my life, but he knows that.

“Right.” He nods emphatically. “Or maybe you just wanted to get away from me as fast as humanly possible.” He pauses for a beat and then says, “You know, I hear they’re looking for drivers at NASCAR. You should think about applying.”

Maybe it’s the nerves, or maybe it’s because he always could make me laugh, but a giggle trickles past my lips, surprising even me. All those years ago, he had this same ability; apparently, he hasn’t lost it. I gaze at him, and he’s smiling that wide, full-lipped smile. A curl of his brown hair has fallen over his broad forehead, and I nearly lift my hand to push it back.

Nearly.

“I didn’t know,” Troy says, taking me off guard.

I look at him in bewilderment. “Didn’t know what?” I ask.

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