Falling for His Fake Fiancée (Book 2, Girls' Night Trilogy)
Page 24
She was more poised than he’d ever seen her and there was a conviction in her voice that he’d never heard before.
“I never realized how idealistic you are.”
As soon as the words left his lips he realized what the emotions in her eyes were because they disappeared behind a mask of cool, steady southern-belle strength.
Love. Hope. He’d killed those emotions with a few careless words. What else was new?
Before he could get his foot out of his mouth, her grip on him eased and she took a slow step back.
“You’ll have to forgive me for trying to make sense of a senseless situation.”
He hadn’t meant to hurt her but it was obvious that that’s all he was capable of today.
They rode to the cemetery in silence and he stood at the back of the crowd. Gretchen didn’t reach for his hand, didn’t loop her arm through his, didn’t offer any physical support. But she was there. Even when he was a snarling bear, snapping at her like he’d stepped in a trap. She stayed by his side and he had no idea why.
She drove home in silence and that didn’t bother him. He figured the quieter he stayed the less damage he would do. And he couldn’t really digest any more platitudes today anyway.
Gretchen was proud of herself for keeping her chin up and her lips sealed. This latest mood of his would just have to work itself out. There was only so much she could do or say.
“You’re a good man, Greg Fairchild.”
“Then why do I feel like pond scum?”
She bit back a sigh. “Would a cookie make you feel better? This morning’s batch isn’t going to eat itself.”
She expected him to crack a smile as he always did when she mentioned cookies but his frown remained firmly in place.
“I don’t think a fucking cookie is going to solve this.”
She gasped and flinched at the same time. Then she swallowed.
“You’re right.”
“Gretchen, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you...I just...I need some time to sort this out in my head. There’s just too much going on up there.” He started to reach for her but she opened the door and got out.
Where had the tender lover gone? The man who was all over her? Taking her to the fanciest steakhouse around to celebrate a fabulous meeting that would help her career? Where was he?
More importantly, why was he ruining everything? He was the exact opposite of the sunny April afternoon; he’d been frosty since breakfast. She was trying her hardest to be supportive without being a pest... Maybe this was how he dealt with grief. Silence was perfectly acceptable; she’d mourned her grandmother quietly, not saying much to anyone.
But the biting comments?
He followed her to the front door.
“A cookie isn’t going to solve your attitude,” she said, turning to him at the front door. “Only you can do that. You need time? Fine. Take all the time you need, but do it somewhere else. I’ve been nothing but nice and supportive. I have loved you for a very long time but I don’t deserve the biting comments and the mood swings. I didn’t sign up for it. As you so sweetly put it, you have no one. No one you’re tied to with a rock on her finger. Certainly not me. So take your time.
“Go get your head on straight and realize I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. Figure out what you want in life and if that life includes me. But don’t stay here, play house, eat with me and sleep with me.”
When he started to speak, she held up a hand. “It’s my fault. Entirely my fault. I should have insisted you go home with Ronny or Thomas. You could have even gotten a hotel room and it would have saved me. But I didn’t. I held out hope like the idiot I am. I believed JJ when she said you were ready to settle down and I believed, more than anything, all your sweet words. But now it’s time to preserve myself. I’m done waiting for you to wake up one day and see me. I don’t want you to say anything. I don’t expect anything, not right now. I agree that you need time. I was an absolute fool for living this fairy tale week and thinking something would come of it. You need time to heal. And I need to let you do that.”
How she managed to say everything without breaking down, she’d never know. But she saw that every word hit their target. His mouth open slightly but there was also a hint of a grimace.
“I’ll call my brothers,” he said, yanking at the tie around his neck.
“Let me help,” she offered.
“I’ve got it.” The growly tone made her eyebrows lift. He’d never spoken to her like that. In fact, she’d never heard so much coldness from him in the decade she’d known him.
No sooner had the words left his lips than the tie released its strangle hold. He ripped it from beneath his collar, balled it up and shoved it into his pocket. His chest heaved and his fingers flexed against his thighs.
It was probably just best to ignore the outburst and go inside. So she nodded and opened the door. He made a beeline for the back door and disappeared into the backyard.
“Sometimes you just need to stew,” her grandmother used to say. Gretchen supposed that was true, especially in this case. Blowing out a sigh, she made her way to her office, intent on finishing up a few projects and getting a shipment ready. She needed something to keep her mind and her hands busy.
In hindsight, maybe she should have spent the day taking homeless puppies around the local senior center. The old folks loved to pet and cuddle and Gretchen knew that contact with younger generations kept them feeling young and cared for. But she’d wanted to support Greg. Greg, Greg, Greg.
“It’s not all about Greg,” she told herself out loud as she waited for her computer to boot up. Now that spring break was finally here, it was time to get busy.
Her phone trilled and she retrieved in from her purse.
Baby: Did you tell him?
Baby. As if it was so easy to just blurt out her feelings like that.
Taking a deep breath, her fingers hovered over the virtual keyboard.
Gretchen: Yes, but he’s in a dark place today. Just got home from the funeral.
There was a beat of pause, then another message popped up on the screen.
Baby: And?
And what? And he didn’t say anything back. No, she hadn’t missed that. Even though she’d told him not to say anything, surely a man burning up with love would have silenced her with a declaration.
Gretchen: And nothing. He’s moving out. I told him he needs time to figure out what he wants. He agreed.
She logged onto her computer and went over her order list. Maybe some time apart would be good for them. Maybe he’d realize he had feelings for her and din’t want to live without her.
A girl could dream.
Perhaps the girl was pathetic for holding out hope and if so, so be it.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Yesterday she’d had it all. A hot date. A promising future. The most passionate night of her life.
And today...
Baby: I’m sorry, G. Time is a good idea. Besides, I have a good feeling about you two.
“From your text to God’s ears,” Gretchen murmured and then got to work.
She was just about to break for dinner when she heard a car door slam out front. It sounded too close to be at her neighbor’s. Beau Crawford had just circled the front of a large black truck when Gretchen glanced out the window.
What was JJ’s cousin doing here?
She started down the hall. Greg was coming through the back door.
“Beau’s here,” she said.
“I know.” He barely paused. “Don’t wait up.”
Gretchen’s jaw dropped and her mouth remained agape as he walked out the front door and shut it behind himself. Don’t wait up?
Hah. Not likely. She had no intention of waiting up for a man who couldn’t be bothered to speak to her like an adult. Like someone he’d made love to three nights in a row.
He was off of the pain meds now so whatever foggy mush was going on in that brain of his was all him.
She traced her steps back to her office and paused. Had he taken his things? He hadn’t had anything in his hands.
She pushed open her bedroom door and saw that everything was just as it had been that morning. His duffle bag was still in the rocking chair. The box of condoms sat at the corner of her nightstand. Her sheets were rumpled, the comforter askew.
Seeing the remnants of their amazing night drove a stake through her heart. That was the only explanation for the swift pain in the center of her chest that brought tears to her eyes.
Her phone rang and her foolish heart hoped against hope. But it was JJ’s name at the top of the small screen, not Greg’s.
“Hey,” she said by way of greeting, fully aware of how ragged her voice sounded.
“Hey sweetie. Baby told me what happened. What can I do?”
Gretchen sat down on the end of the bed and wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. She needed to get it together. Even though her mind told her heart to stop hurting, that there was nothing to hurt about, it wouldn’t stop. She couldn’t stop the feeling that she’d lost him and that he’d never come back. Not just the man she’d lived with for the last week, but the man he’d been before.
“Bring ice cream.”
Greg sat back in the chair and massaged his temples. Gretchen’s words haunted his mind.
“What can I get you gentlemen?”
Greg pulled his hands away from his face and glanced up at the woman. She stared back and forth between him and Beau.
“Whiskey,” Greg said.
“I’ll have a beer.”
They went back and forth as to the type before she strutted away.
“You don’t look so hot,” Beau said as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I don’t feel so hot.”
In fact, he felt like shit underneath someone’s boot. “Why is it women can just rip your heart out at your lowest moment?”
“Ugh oh.”
“Ugh oh?” Greg parroted, glaring over at his cousin. This is why men were shitty conversationalists, he realized.
“Woman trouble.”
“Damn right woman trouble.”
Beau’s dark blond brows rose a fraction.
The waitress brought their drinks, smiled a little too brightly and stayed too long. He wasn’t the least bit interested in the waitress, didn’t feel any hint of attraction to her.
Instead of snapping at her to leave them alone, he gulped back the whiskey and relished the burn. When had he become that guy? The guy who sulked and snapped when he didn’t get his way? He was better than that. Had been anyway.
The sound of his brothers’ voices pierced the contemplative fog.
“What’s the damage?” Ronny asked.
“Woman trouble,” Beau said.
“What’d you say this time?” Thomas asked as he flipped a well worn chair around and straddled it.
Greg couldn’t escape his older brother’s scrutiny, not that he’d ever wanted to before. Right now his brother looked mildly annoyed and not at all surprised that Greg’s head wasn’t on straight.
“What makes you think I did anything?”
“Because you’ve been sticking your foot in your mouth where Gretchen Mascoe is concerned all week.”
“Gretchen? Seriously,” Ronny but in.
“Yes, Gretchen,” Greg ground out. Thomas was right. This hadn’t been his finest week.
“You know she’s in love with you, right?” Thomas asked as he signalled the waitress.
“She said as much,” Greg said to his glass of whiskey. He needed another one and told the waitress as much.
“So that’s your answer? Drink it away? You’re a tougher man than that.” Thomas had never been one to pull his punches.
“You didn’t see the way she looked at me.”
“So make it right,” Beau said.
He cut a glance at his blond haired, blue eyed cousin. “Easier said than done. I’m not even sure if this week should have happened.”
“Meaning?”
“All of it.”
“Can’t change the past,” Beau said, settling back in his seat, the beer dangling from his fingertips.
“No shit,” Ronny said, sending an exacerbated look Beaus way.
“No. He’s right. You can’t change the past and but you can learn from it,” Thomas said.
“You sound like Gretchen,” Greg complained. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her advice; it was just hard to take right now.
“I always knew she was a smart cookie.”
And she makes delicious cookies too.
A tendril of panic gripped him. What if she didn’t let him back in? No, that was silly. She’d told him to take his time.
“I don’t wanna take my time,” he muttered to himself.
“What the hell’s the matter with him?”
Greg glanced up and saw Ryan at the edge of the table. “What are you doin’ here?”
Ryan shrugged. “Beau called.”
Their small table now overflowed with bottles and brawn. So much for a quiet evening to drink away his worries and screw his head back on straight.
The doorbell rang again and this time Gretchen left Baby in the kitchen to finish scooping ice cream while she went to answer it.
“Come in,” she called as she opened the door.
Joe ushered JJ in and left her in the entry with a stern look.
“You should have your door locked,” he admonished Gretchen and she nodded.
Not that she needed anymore conflict tonight; her insides were already tied up in knots. “You’re right.”
“Mind if I have a look around?” he asked as he exited the living room.
Trevor’s stalker must be back in action.
“Of course not. Make yourself at home Joe. Can I get you anything?”
“No ma’am.”
If she were the type to like tall, dark and dangerous, that smooth Texas twang would probably melt her on the spot. But she was rather fond of a certain carpenter who heated her blood with a single look.
Gretchen went and made sure he’d locked the front door, which he had, and then stood with JJ while Joe finished his search. “Another letter?” she whispered.
JJ swallowed and nodded.
“Someone’s with Trevor?”
Another nod.
“Baby’s in the kitchen, you don’t think he’ll pull a gun on her do you?”
JJ rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, I’m more concerned with you right now. Tell me everything.”
They collapsed on one of the sofas just as Baby came in with a tray piled high. Wine, goblets, ice cream, sprinkles, a can of whipped cream.
Gretchen sniffed. Her friends had gone all out.
“I’ll be outside if you need me, JJ,” Joe said.
“Thanks Joe.”
He nodded, glancing at Gretchen and then Baby. His gaze seemed to linger on her Baby for an extra beat and when Gretchen glanced over at her friend, Baby was sticking her tongue out at his retreating back.
“What’s that all about?” JJ beat Gretchen to the question.
“He just has a corn cob up his―”
“I heard that,” he said and then the door clicked shut.
For some reason, they all found that tremendously funny. They were wiping tears from their eyes when Cindy strode in. Tall and beautiful, she was always dressed so nicely, even for an emergency ice cream fest. The three of them jumped up and gave her hugs. And just like that, Gretchen knew everything would be okay. Gretchen poured the wine. Baby squirted whipped cream in everyone’s bowl and JJ doled out the sprinkles.
Good friends were hard to come by. Great friends were the ones who dropped everything on a Saturday night to rush to your side. No matter what happened with Greg, whether he sorted himself out and came around or decided a week long fling was all he wanted from her, Gretchen realized she’d be okay.
“So, about my brother,” JJ began.
“I’m sure he feels guilty,” Cindy piped in, adding more sprinkles and chocolate syrup to her bowl.
“Survivor’s guilt,” Baby agreed.
“Yeah. That’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Maybe he hasn’t figured out what he feels for you yet. You remember what happened with Trevor...”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just knock them over the head and have them magically come to their senses,” Baby mused. She picked up her wine glass and stared toward the front of the house.
“Enough about me—” Gretchen said.
“No. Not enough about you,” JJ said. “Now that you’ve told him, he has the information he needs.”
“Yeah, but he didn’t say anything. He left.”
“I thought you told him to leave,” Cindy said, confusion pinching her perfectly plucked brows.
“I did.”
The three of them stared at her. “Yes, I know I’m being irrational. I just figured if he really was madly in love with me he would have shut me up. Romantic confessions only happen in the movies, don’t they?”
Silence reigned for a dozen heart beats. That’s when Baby pulled out the big guns. She pulled out a brand new bag of Cheetos.
“Your meeting went well, though, right?” JJ asked, obviously moving the conversation to safer subjects.
There may not be a real life fairy tale in her future, at least not right now. If only she hadn’t gotten her hopes up.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded and filled her friends in on the meeting with Lillith, the celebratory dinner with Greg. Luckily she hadn’t heard back from her mother. Thank God for small graces, and Annie was happy as a clam without her cheating boyfriend and smarmy roommate. How had her sister gotten over her long time beau so easily? Perhaps the shock of seeing him in bed with another woman, a friend, had severed all feelings.