Page 63 of Reckless King

I smile, warm with affection for my brother, even if he is overprotective. “I will.”

After we end the call, I go back to wiping down the bench, and I’m instantly lost in my thoughts. I may have fudged the truth there at the end. Just a little. But I can’t tell Mark that his concerns might be valid. That I’m worried that spending all this time with Tate, touching him,kissinghim, is going to start tearing down my walls. ThatI’mworried I’ll get hurt. Because telling him won’t help either of us. The truth remains the same whether I’m Tate’s girlfriend or fiancée. I have no intention of backing out of the agreement, so I’ll double down on my efforts to remind myself that it’s all an act. One Tate happens to be very, very good at.

I ignore the niggling voice in the back of my head that reminds me that there was no audience for the kiss we shared last night. That was just a result of the adrenaline from everything that led up to it—that man trying to touch me,Tate’s out-of-the-blue announcement that we’re engaged, and his protective instincts kicking in. Adrenaline makes people do crazy things. Like kiss their fake girlfriend—sorry,fiancée—like they can’t get enough. Like they won’t be able to take another breath if they don’t.

Yes, I’ve judged Tate too harshly. I admit that under all his polished charm, he’s actually a good guy. But that doesn’t mean who he is, and what he wants, has fundamentally changed. It means he’s a good guy making the best of a bad situation. And after this is over, he’ll go back to his playboy ways, and I’ll go back to focusing on True Brew. I doubt we’ll ever see each other again after that.

The squeeze in my chest at the thought is evidence enough that I’ve already let myself get too swept up in this. It’s time to rein this whole thing in and get back to treating it like a business arrangement. The way we should have been doing all along.

Pulling in a breath, I straighten my shoulders and head to the front to check on Jarrod. Before I get a chance to suggest he take his break, the bell over the door jangles, and a small crowd of people push their way inside. The smile of welcome that spreads across my face automatically at the sound of that bell falls when I see the raised cameras.

“Violet, congratulations on your engagement. How did you get one of New York’s most eligible bachelors to propose?”

“Violet. How did you and Tate meet? Did he come in for coffee?”

“When’s the wedding, Violet?”

Heart pounding, I take a step back. “I—um…”

I throw a startled look at Jarrod, whose eyes are wide with shock. I haven’t mentioned the engagement to him. He’s probably wondering what they’re talking about.

I grimace, and in response, he shakes his head. It’s all the confirmation he needs. It only takes a moment for him to collecthimself and pull his shoulders back. He runs his hand through his hair and glares at the group, who I’m guessing are tabloid reporters. “If you’re not here for coffee, you can leave.”

The man at the front fishes his wallet out of his jacket. With a smug grin, he pulls out a few bills. “I’ll have an Americano.” The men behind him follow suit, digging out their wallets as well. Unbelievable.

One of them brings his camera up and snaps a shot of Jarrod and me. Spots dance in my vision, and I put up my hand. “No photos inside, please.”

“There are dozens of photos on each of your shop’s social media pages,” he protests. “Just think of this as free publicity.”

The shock and confusion that hit me when they came in have now turned to irritation. Gritting my teeth, I take a step closer to the counter. “I think you should leave.”

The man puts his hands up. “Okay, no photos. I’ll take a coffee and a Danish.”

So maybe the confusion hasn’t completely gone. What am I supposed to do now? And does my change in status from girlfriend to fiancée really warrant this kind of reaction? I’m considering ordering them to leave anyway when the door swings open and another group charges in.

My stomach sinks. This is ridiculous.

Jarrod turns to me, his brows lowered. “Go hang out in the back. If they can’t get to you, they’ll leave.”

He’s right. And I need a minute to collect my thoughts and figure out how to handle this situation.

As I turn, he grabs my wrist. “Call your fiancé. He got you into this. He can sort it out.”

With a stunned nod, I push through the swinging door into the kitchen. I was not prepared for this. I haven’t had a lot of time to think things through, and it didn’t even occur to methat the announcement of Tate’s sudden engagement would be a huge deal.

Jarrod’s right though. I need to tell him. Hopefully, he can advise me on how to proceed from here. Should I give them a prepared answer? Should I kick them out?

I pull my phone out of my pocket, tap on Tate’s name in my list of contacts and wait for him to pick up.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

TATE

“Nice of you to join us,” Mom says as I take a seat next to her at the dining table.

I’m a bit late arriving at the family estate in Westchester County for our monthly King family lunch—another event that’s all about appearances. One that’s become more bearable since Dad’s no longer around and Delilah’s far lovelier presence has taken his place. Although she’s not here today. According to Cole, she isn’t feeling well.

My phone blew up all morning with calls from my brothers, and even one from my mother, but I ignored them, preferring to wait for lunch so I could have a single conversation rather than hash out the details with each of them separately. Now that we’re all together, the confrontation can commence.

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