Page 101 of Just One Fake Date

“It won’t be that bad.”

“If expectations are set sufficiently low, it can only be better than I hope.”

She laughed again as she walked to the porch, then turned to see that he was still standing by the car.

Of course. She felt a little glow that he did what he said he was going to do.

But then acing tests was his thing.

“One?” he suggested.

“If that’s when we need to leave, I’ll be ready. Are you wearing a suit?”

Tyler raised his hands as if the answer was self-evident and Shannyn guessed that it was. He got back in the car, but waited, watching, until she unlocked the door and gave him a thumbs-up from the kitchen. Then he waved and backed out, the car’s engine roaring as he headed back downtown.

Shannyn leaned back against the door and realized she was smiling. There was a certain irony in the fact that she’d only managed to follow her own rules because Tyler was a nice guy.

Fitzwilliam strolled toward her, tail waving, and yowled in protest.

“It would be easy to get used to having a guardian angel,” she confessed, but he began a soliloquy about the tardiness of his dinner.

Thirteen

If Shannyn had askedTy to predict which rule would challenge him the most, he would never have picked number three.

No late night phone calls.

But that was the one that proved to be a thorn in his side.

He wanted to call Shannyn when he got back to his place and even pulled out his phone to do so before he stopped himself. He knew it was ridiculous to want to hear her voice after he’d just spent several hours in her company, but he did. He wanted to talk about what she’d learned from the chef and how she was going to apply it. He wanted to know what she was going to do the next day. He wanted to make sure that she was okay after telling him so much. He wanted to know what her idea for the club was, and he wanted to know about Cole.

But mostly, Ty wanted to hear Shannyn’s voice. He liked talking to her and he especially liked it at night, not just because she seemed inclined to confess a little more then.

Maybe that was the rationale behind rule number three. Ty already knew that Shannyn was the kind of person to defend her vulnerabilities with gusto.

He’d missed a call from his mom and called to let her know that Shannyn was coming to the shower, enduring all the questions and making all the reassurances. He answered Paige’s text messages, suggesting that she talk to Shannyn about the furniture on Sunday. He checked with his aunt whether there was anything he could bring or pick up. He checked with Katelyn about the show at their apartment, having decided to attend. He did a few hours work, then since it was too early to swim in privacy, he went down to the weight room.

On Friday, the urge to call Shannyn was even stronger, but Ty held fast. He went to Katelyn and Jared’s show alone, bought some new cufflinks and a ring, had a drink, mingled, and wished Shannyn had been with him. Jared’s paintings mystified him, even when a pretty blonde tried to explain them to him. He took a slew of pictures, planning to talk to Shannyn about them. It took everything in him to keep from calling her afterward, or sending her the pictures.

He ached to talk to her.

By Saturday night, Ty was rationalizing that he should confirm Sunday with Shannyn, but held back. He was going to follow her rules, even if it killed him—and it might. He made some changes to his wardrobe choices, certain that she would dress with her usual verve. Ty wanted them to look a little bit like a couple, but mostly, he didn’t want to look boring beside Shannyn.

On Sunday morning, he worked out, tried to kill time, and was ready to leave early just the same.

Screw it. He’d drive around the block if he arrived too early at her house.

Shannyn spentFriday and Saturday cooking. She made soup and she made casseroles; she baked bread and she made muffins. She made pasta for lasagna, then cut some into fettuccine and dried it. She made individual cottage pies, quiches and chicken pot pies. She loaded up the freezer a little more each night until it was bursting at the seams. The alumni magazine had paid and she was feeling flush. It was better to think about cooking than to worry about having no new work. Plus Aidan was returning to her place during the week, so Shannyn was glad to have a lot of food ready for him to raid.

She talked to her mom Saturday night since she might get home too late on Sunday to call. They conferred about her choices for the shower and her mom had ideas about the wedding. They reviewed what shoes and purses she had and she sent some pictures of recent finds to her mom.

She had a hard time getting to sleep on Saturday night, but Fitzwilliam awakened her bright and early Sunday morning, landing on her chest with his usual punctuality. She went out for a run, just to calm herself down, then came home to dress.

She took her time, enjoying the ritual of dressing up, then turning in front of the mirror to admire the result. She sent her mom a selfie and got a quick text of reassurance, then went to wait for Tyler in the kitchen, where she could see the driveway. Her heart was skipping like she’d run a race.

To Shannyn’s surprise, he was late.

Had he changed his mind?

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