Page 28 of The Replacement Fiance

"Yeah, they just did. Liam heard the news, too." I put my phone on Silent and slip it back into my jeans pocket. I can talk to Liam later. Right now, my priority is Mariah.

"What are we going to do, Logan? I can't believe I dragged you into this mess."

"First of all, you didn't drag me into anything," I say. "It was my idea to come here with you and pretend to be your fiancé."

"But you wouldn't have done it if I hadn't come up with the stupid idea in the first place."

I stop walking and look into Mariah's panicked blue eyes. "It's not your fault, Mariah, okay? Take a deep breath."

She does as I tell her, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. She's shaking and how I wish I could hold her and tell her that everything will be okay, that things will work themselves out. But I also understand how she's feeling because I'm feeling it too—guilt over the knowledge that we're living a lie.

How on earth could I have thought pretending to be her fiancé would be a piece of cake? How could I have been so wrong?

But as much as I want nothing more than to fix things, I can't. Not right this minute. "It'll be all right, Mariah. Stay with me, okay? One more day and then we head back."

She takes a deep breath. "You're right. One more day."

"We leave tomorrow, right? We can leave first thing in the morning and then you can announce that we broke up. I got cold feet, whatever you want to say."

She sighs. "I just wish I didn't have to pull this on them. Making them believe that I found the one for me and then break the news that we split up. They like you. They really like you, Logan."

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. I want to go off-script so bad and tell her that I want something real between us, but I also know I can't. I volunteered for this and I need to follow through. "Why don't you show me around the property?"

We spend the next hour walking around the property, Mariah's mood slowly lifting as she points out the places where she, her sisters, and her brother used to play. I love watching her mood slowly lift as she talks about the lodge, proud of what her parents have accomplished.

The walk is just what we need and before long, we're smiling as we explore the trail ahead of us. We're taking in the sights and the smells and just being present. It almost feels like we're back to the way we were—as friends—even though there's another layer over that dynamic, one that may or may not go away. In fact, it could very well destroy the friendship. But I don't want to think of that possibility, not right now.

We stop at an area where a dozen A-frame structures stick out from the ground, their roofs dotted with snow that fell overnight.

"This is one of the old features of the property," she says. Each cabin comes with two single beds, desks, shelves, and a wood stove. It's popular with small groups, usually nature workshops although we get a lot of millennials renting them, too, couples who want to be closer to the outdoors."

Mariah makes her way up the steps to one of the A-frame cabins and unlocks the door. "Mom and Dad had us name each of the cabins and I called this one Cercis, forCercis Occidentalis." She points to the wood-burned sign next to the door that bears the name.

"What is it?"

"It's a native flowering shrub with shiny heart-shaped leaves and pretty showy flowers. Usually pink or magenta."

Stomping my boots on the doormat, I follow her inside. From the front door, each side of the cabin has a built-in desk followed by a row of shelves and a twin-sized bed at the opposite end. Dry firewood is stacked at the bottom of one of the shelves along with a pile of newspapers. Two framed sketches of flowers hang next to the door, both of them signedMP. Mariah Peters.

"You did this? It's beautiful."

"Thanks. Mom and Dad thought I'd be an artist when I grew up because of those drawings. Turns out, it lasted only one summer. My art manifested itself through floral arrangements." Mariah draws open the curtains along the far wall behind a small wood stove that stands in the middle of the two beds, set up on a platform of bricks.

I look through a collection of old paperbacks on one of the shelves, a smattering of botany, plant identification textbooks, and romance and thriller paperbacks.

"People often leave books behind for the next occupant," she says as she stands next to me.

"I would never have pinned you for a country girl. Not exactly a city girl but not country either."

She grins. "I clean up well."

"You're perfect just the way you are, Mariah."

She blushes and looks away before rubbing her arms to ward off the chill. I barely even noticed that the cabin is freezing cold, all my attention on how beautiful Mariah is, inside and out, and just how wounded she seems at times. Maybe coming home even with a fake fiancé in tow wasn't such a good idea after all. But with every passing second, I'm still falling harder for her and I can't stop myself.

"Want to head back to the house?"

Mariah shakes her head. "Would you mind if we stayed here awhile?"

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