Page 28 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

Dad gives her a startled look. “We will?”

“Yes.” She narrows her eyes.

Dad wrinkles his nose. “I guess we will.”

Catherine and I protest just enough to be polite about it, but soon we’re outside. Once we’re at her car, I open her door for her.

“Thanks for the tickets,” I tell her softly.

“It’s no problem. I thought it might be good to get your parents out of your hair, but in a way that gives them something to enjoy at the same time.”

“It’s definitely something they appreciate. And I do, too.” I lean against the side of her car.

Catherine gives me a mischievous look. “Don’t be fooled, though. This isn’t one of the ways to get them off your back. It’s a stopgap measure at best.”

“A stopgap?”

“Oh, yes. You can’t set boundaries with someone by bribing them. If you start off by going out of your way to please someone, they will take that as the norm. This,” she gestures toward the house. “Is for the sole sake of leveling the playing field.”

I try to keep up with her but can’t.

“Where did you get those tickets anyway?” I ask instead.

“Crimson. I wasn’t lying.” Catherine tilts her head, letting her hair fall to the side. “That’s another lesson for you. You get away more with telling the truth than coming up with elaborate lies.”

“Oh, and what about going along with someone else’s elaborate lie?” I counter.

She shrugs. “That, I suppose, depends on how desperate you are.”

I chuckle, amused at her antics. “I’m grateful that you happen to have tickets for a concert featuring my parents’ favorite singer. And for you to just happen to have a hotel room for them and everything.”

“Hey, it’s not like I want to go back to the city when I’m keeping a low profile,” she says. Then a grimace crosses her face. “Especially not when it means staying in a hotel and going to a concert that Crimson paid for.”

Ah, yes. I can see how that would be more fodder for the tabloids.

“You are doing okay, though, right?” I ask her, moving a little closer.

Catherine smiles, nodding. “Yeah. I’m staying off social media and focusing on helping Grandma around the house. And trying to convince her not to try to do the drywalling herself.”

Horror shoots through me. “She’s not, is she?”

“Luckily, I was able to point out that one of her flowerbeds is getting a little overgrown. We spent the day weeding and pruning instead.” Catherine laughs. “By the way, your parents are spying on us.”

I turn. Sure enough, the curtains in the kitchen flutter shut the moment I catch them.

“Hmm. Seems like we need to give them something to spy on,” I tease.

“Sure thing.” Catherine’s smile becomes stiff. “This is when that kissing practice comes in handy.”

“That’s what it was?” I cup her face in my hand.

“Of course.”

I close the distance between us. Her lips are soft and warm. She smells like roses, and it drives me crazy.

Unlike yesterday on the beach, I don’t lose myself in the kiss.

Not with my parents watching.

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