Page 99 of Faking I Do
“I’ve got to go.” I scooted back from the table.
“But you haven’t finished your taco.”
“I don’t have time for tacos. There’s something I need to do.”
“Something involving my sister?” Luke asked.
I stepped into my boots then turned to face my best friend. “Something involving my future wife.”
CHAPTER 50
LACEY
I frownedas I licked the back of an envelope and pressed it closed. That ought to do it. I’d spent the last two days writing a personal apology note to each and every person who’d had anything to do with the renovation of the Phillips House. From the guy who trapped the armadillos to Bodie’s friend who’d built the gorgeous arbor that had been smashed to pieces . . . I’d writtenI’m sorryso many times I’d practically had to hold my right hand still with my left to keep it from continuing to move.
They didn’t want my help fixing things up, and I didn’t have another shift at the Burger Bonanza until next week. This was supposed to be my fake honeymoon where Bodie and I were going to hide out somewhere and let people think we were off celebrating our union as newlyweds. I didn’t know where we were supposed to go—that was the one part of the weekend Bodie had kept as a surprise. He’d just told me to bring some casual clothes and toss in a swimsuit. For all I knew, we’d be barricaded into his place for four days living on frozen pizza and beer.
Thinking about Bodie made my heart tighten. Especially when I recalled the look on his face the last time I’d seen him. Rejection. Confusion. Pain. I thought I’d been protecting myselfby denying my feelings, but knowing I’d pushed him away hurt even worse than it would have if he’d left me.
So I’d ruined everything—not just Ido’s chance to rebuild itself into a thriving destination-wedding community, but also any possibility of a relationship with the man I loved. The town would probably ask for my resignation. If what Bodie said was true and my dad was likely to get released from house arrest, then I wouldn’t have to stick around. I could go anywhere, make a fresh start, and keep a low profile for a change.
With a heavy heart at the thought of having to leave everything—and everyone—behind, I cracked open my bedroom door. I’d barely left my room in the past forty-eight hours.
“Dad, you got any stamps?” I padded down the hall toward the family room, the huge stack of envelopes in my hands.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Dad met me in the hall. He’d shaved and had on a clean pair of khakis and a fresh shirt. Maybe he was starting to feel better now that I’d relieved him of the honor of being the most depressed person in the house. “Someone came by to see you.”
“What?” I blew a clump of hair away from my face. I hadn’t bothered to take my updo down from the other night, so my hair probably resembled a rat’s nest. Or an armadillo burrow. Thinking about the lies I told about the rogue armadillo made me tear up again.
“Come here, sweetheart.” Dad wrapped an arm around me and led me into the kitchen, where the table had been transformed. Tapered candles flickered and a black tablecloth stretched to the ground.
“What’s this?” I asked, looking around.
Pointing to the table, my dad shrugged. A single plate sat in the center.
“Is that flan?” I set the envelopes down on the counter and moved closer. It was flan. I turned to look at my dad, but he was gone. “What’s going on?”
Bodie entered the kitchen, looking absolutely edible in a pair of dark pants and a white button-down shirt. I took in a ragged breath, already wiping away the tears that threatened to spill over my lashes.
He took the plate from the table and held it out to me. A ring sat in the center of the flan, an emerald-cut yellow diamond, not nearly as big as the one he’d given me before.
“Lacey Cherish,”—he got down on one knee—“I know we’ve had our ups and downs over the past few months, and I know the timing on this probably sucks . . .”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“But I need to let you know something. Our engagement started out fake, but the feelings I have for you are very real.”
I shook out my hands, trying to quell the pinpricks of anxiety marching up and down my limbs.
“I’m going to ask you a question now and I want you to be totally honest with me, okay?”
I bit my lip and nodded.
“Will you do me the honor of?—”
I couldn’t wait any longer. I ran to him, crashing into him, smothering his face with kisses, running my hands over his arms, his shoulders, his hair.
“Lacey. You didn’t let me ask the question.”
