Page 75 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince
My eyes grew wide. “Oh, Dean. I can’t accept something so expensive from you.”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I love it. It’s just you shouldn’t have. Not for me.” He was making it really hard to remember all of this wasn’t real between us.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing it’s a replica then. I thought you might like to wear it with your dress to the charity event next week.” He took the piece out and gestured to my neck. “Please, it would hurt my feelings if you don’t accept this.”
I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I’d look ungrateful by turning down his present, and possibly like an even bigger jerk if it was only costume jewelry. Secretly, I didn’t want to say no. I loved that he’d thought of me when we weren’t together. And I already knew it would quickly become my favorite piece of jewelry.
I nodded and shifted in my seat to face the window. Once the necklace settled into the spot below the hollow of my throat I questioned the truth of Dean’s words. The stones felt heavy against my skin.
Before I could protest once more, Dean left a whisper of a kiss at the back of my neck and got out of the car.
He walked around the car and opened my door. He’d asked me to wait, explaining his mother had raised him as a gentleman, and would never forgive him if he didn’t.
Without Dean holding my hand and urging me forward I might have run back to the car.
We stopped on the top front step. I held his hand so tight in mine that I don’t know how I didn’t crush his fingers. Dean hadn’t even grabbed the knob to open the intricately carved wooden door when it burst open.
My breath caught in my throat as his mom, Bethany, flung it wide. His dad, Dave, stood right behind her. She quickly ushered us inside. My gaze zeroed in on Bethany and I attempted to give her what I hoped was a smile.
“Mom, Dad. This is—”
“I know who this is. Ashlyn we are so happy to have you here tonight.” Bethany leaned forward, and grabbed me in the biggest, tightest, hug I’d ever felt. Her light floral scent wafted around me, cocooning me in love and acceptance. It was how I imagined my parents might have hugged me.
I rapidly blinked against her shoulder, willing the sudden onset of tears, to stay in their place. My arms inched around her waist and I squeezed her back. A deep sigh left me when she didn’t release me right away.
“Now Bethany. Don’t go scaring the poor girl away.”
Bethany released her hold on me. Still leaving her hands resting on my arms. “Oh hush, Dave.”
She gave me the most welcoming smile. Her lips stretched across her face, her brown eyes—so much like Dean’s—crinkled at the corners, and in her face I saw nothing but warmth. Bethany linked her arm through mine. “It’s such a beautiful night I thought we could eat on the deck. Would you mind helping me take the rest of the food out?”
I nodded and glanced at Dean.
He came to my side and kissed my cheek. “Any strawberries tonight mom? They’re Ashlyn’s favorite.”
I bit my lip and shook my head.
His returning wink let me know he understood I wanted to stay.
His mom laughed already leading me in the direction of the kitchen. “Well of course we have strawberries. You mentioned it so many times I had to serve them tonight. I ordered that sinful, strawberry shortcake, from Amazing Sweets.” She tipped her head closer to mine and whispered. “And I can’t resist anything from that place.”
I shot Dean a grateful look and let his mom pull me along with her. Right now, I’d do anything Bethany Prince asked of me. When Dean and I eventually broke up, losing this woman was going to make leaving Dean even harder than I knew it would be. Although, if not having my parents taught me anything, it was to enjoy the happiness you had.
You never knew what tomorrow would bring.
***
THE TIP OF MY PENCILscratched across the page. I eyed the design, erased a new detail, and focused on the back of the lace romper I was designing. It was incredibly sexy with the plunging v-neck in front and a low-cut back that opened to the waist. I tapped my fingers on the table as I contemplated if I wanted to create a ribbon or button closure at the back of the neck.
Tilting my head I paused to listen to the faint ring now filtering through to the living room. It sounded like my phone. Shoving my pencil through my messy bun I dumped the notebook on the coffee table in front of me.
The ring was faint, and as I heaved myself off the couch, I remembered I left my cell phone in my bedroom. I had today and tomorrow off from both jobs and was relaxing by letting my creative side have full rein.
By the time I found my phone, the last ring had ended, and the call had gone to voicemail.
Holy crap, I’d missed a call from Dean’s mother, Bethany.
