Page 26 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

I lean into his embrace, sighing as our kiss lingers.

George’s arms tighten briefly before he releases me. He nods, looking distracted. “Right. I should get to work. Here’s the water.”

He puts the thermos on the rocks and quickly walks away.

I have to sit down, still feeling shaky from the kiss.

Er… no. Not the kiss.

It’s the heat.

I’m not developing feelings for George.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

Chapter seven

George

Mom looks as though she’s about to burst into tears. “Oh, Georgie! I thought we raised you better than this. How could you?”

I expected this and so gave nothing away in my expression. “You can’t insult my fiancé like this, Mom.”

“But she’s not even making dinner!” Mom presses both her hands to her face, shaking her head slowly. “I know she’s become one of those city women, but I thought you had more sense than this.”

“Leave the boy alone,” Dad says. He’s sitting in his normal place in front of the TV.

Mom whirls on him. “And how am I supposed to look that scamp in the eye when I know she’s cheating on my boy?”

Well, that’s an apology I have to make to Catherine. Apparently, ‘scamp’ is part of my mother’s vocabulary after all.

“She’s just pulled in. Be nice,” I warn.

Now that the time to have dinner with Catherine and my parents has arrived, I’m doubting this plan.

Oh, they buy that we’re engaged.

But I’m just concerned about how much abuse I’ve set Catherine up for.

I go to greet her at the door, silently vowing that I won’t allow my parents to get out of line.

If they start being inappropriate, I’ll kick them out.

It’s so much easier to plan to stand up for Catherine than to stick up for myself.

“Mom, Dad, you remember Catherine,” I say once I escort her to the dining room.

Dad’s at the table now. He looks dismissive while my mother looks as though I’ve brought a worm into the house.

“Edwina, Jason,” Catherine greets. Her smile is warm. “I hope you don’t mind but I brought some drinks. I do hope that you like bourbon and peach wine.”

She produces the bottles.

“Oh! I adore peach wine.” Mom takes the bottle and studies it. “This is just the brand I buy. Thank you, dear.”

Dad takes the bourbon. “Looks like you got the good stuff.”

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