Page 60 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

Something that I know could easily pull me in.

What’s stopping me from letting go and letting myself admit that I might be developing feelings, too?

It’s all so confusing.

I shake my head as I get back to my feet. The sun is rapidly setting and the tide rapidly washing in.

I don’t need to figure things out right now.

Surprise, surprise, George is there when I get to the house.

He’s loading up his truck. He must be finishing up today’s work.

Part of me wants to avoid talking to him.

It’ll be easier to keep my distance.

But do I really want it easy?

I take a deep breath and head toward him. He sees me coming and pauses in his work.

“Catherine. You were out at the pools?” he asks, his tone oddly formal.

I nod. “You done working for tonight?”

“Yup.” He lifts the last of his tools into his truck. He stares down at his hands for a moment. “So you’re running up to the city tomorrow?”’

“Er… yeah.” I’d forgotten about my appointments to view apartments.

He drags a hand through his strawberry-blonde hair. “Right. I hope it goes well. If you need any work done once you get a place, I’m available for a discount.”

I snort. “Really?”

His cheeks turn pink. “Not like that!”

“Sure, sure.” I wink at him.

His grin doesn’t last long. “Catherine… I also want to apologize.”

“For…?” I wince. I know what he’s referring to. “You don’t actually have to apologize.”

“I clearly made you uncomfortable. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you.” He shuffles on the spot. “And I’m sorry for not making my feelings clear before kissing you.”

“George, really, you don’t have to apologize,” I say awkwardly. “If anything, I should apologize.”

“You don’t have to—”

I hold up my hand to stop him. “I was rude.”

George gives me a slight smile. “Giving me an honest answer isn’t rude.”

“Okay… how about this, I’m sorry for sending mixed signals.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Uhh… okay, you’re right about that. There may be a few mixed signals.”

“They’re about to get worse,” I warn him.

“Should I get a telephone switchboard?” he jokes.

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