Page 49 of Boss's Baby: A Fake Fiance Romance

He reached over and took Cass’s mom’s hand and gave it a squeeze. They were a cute couple, I had to admit—rough edges on Mark and all. Seeing them genuinely in love, married for more legitimate reasons, made me a tad antsy about what Cass and I were doing. Almost like we were mocking the whole idea of love.

I put that idea out of my head as quickly as it’d arrived. No sense in thinking like that.

Dad regarded me from across the table. He had that look on his face, the one I’d seen plenty of times before—a look that said he didn’t know quite what to do with me. The old man wasn’t stupid, and I knew going into this that there was a chance he’d see through the whole thing right away. Sitting there at the table with him, I had no idea if that was the case.

Katie reached over and took Cass’s hand, nearly yanking it from her wrist. “Let me see this thing again. Oh my god, it’s so freaking huge!”

“I know, isn’t it pretty?” Now there was some acting.

Cass’s mom seemed slightly hurt—it was plain to see. “It’s big and all. But Cass, I thought we’d always talked about you wearing your grandma’s ring?” I was curious to see how Cass would handle this.

I piped up, deciding to play along. “Grandma’s ring?”

“Yeah,” said Cass. “My grandma had this vintage ring that she’d always wanted to pass down to me. But it’s no big deal. I mean, how can I say ‘no’ to this?”

The hurt expression stuck on her mother’s face, and I found myself wondering if I’d made the right call by going for the big rock. Then again, not like we were really getting married—like I’d told her, she’d be able to save that ring for when the real deal happened. I had to keep in mind this was all pretend.

“Joshua.” Dad’s voice cut through the din of the dining room. “Let’s talk in private.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

I hadn’t even had a chance to take a bite of the sorbet. Of course, that was the last thing on my mind. I needed to get some idea of how Dad felt about all this, and if he was going to drop the ax, I’d rather it be sooner than later.

We both got up, and together we left the dining room, stepping out on the same back patio where I’d been with Cass only a little while earlier. The evening was quiet, the piano faint through the windows mingling with soft chatter of the other people out there.

Dad said nothing at first, instead gazing out into the garden. Few things scared me, especially after my time in the desert, but Dad’s pointed silence always had a way of making my blood run cold ever since I was a kid.

Finally, he spoke. “So, you’re getting married.”

“I’m getting married.”

“To a woman you barely know.”

This didn’t bode well. “I wouldn’t say I ‘barely know’ her. We’ve been friends since high school.”

“Don’t remember you ever mentioning her.”

“You remember all the friends I had back then?”

He let out a snort of a laugh, conceding the point. “Especially not the damn parade of girls you brought into the house.”

“We weren’t close, but we knew each other. And when we saw each other again on Thanksgiving…”

“I get it—don’t need any more detail than that, kid.”

“But I really love her. More than anything.” I wasn’t sure if I’d said the word “love” yet in regard to Cass. During my proposal speech I’d dropped the usual clichés—woman of my dreams, the best thing that’s ever happened to me—but as I recalled it, I didn’t remember the L word. To say it felt strange would’ve been an understatement.

“You love her. Let me ask you this—have you ever been in love before? I’m not talking about how many times you’ve said it to some impressionable woman you were trying to get into bed. I mean really, truly loved a woman.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I have. Definitely possible.”

He smirked before taking a sip of his champagne. “If you have to ask, you never were. But you feel it with this one?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

He nodded slowly. “That’s how I felt with your mother. We hadn’t been dating for long.” He nodded toward the dining room. “That old man of Cass’s is a little rough around the edges, but he was right about one thing—when you know, you know. And if you know after a month, then that’s it.”

Another sip of his drink, and I did the same. I felt a little better. The way he talked made me feel like he was buying it.

“Still, I can’t help but notice how convenient it is that you happened to find a wife so soon after our talk. Gets a man wondering.”

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