In the Market for Love

Home > Other > In the Market for Love > Page 8
In the Market for Love Page 8

by Squires, Megan


  “Well, if you need to pretend to be dating someone now to keep him off your back, I’m your man.” This time Cole flexed, just in case another surprise jab was in store.

  “I think I can handle him, but thank you.”

  At that moment, Tanner jogged up, his feet clapping loudly on the pavement like he was wearing flippers. “Found it.” He flashed his store discount card. “So, Soph, how’s life been treating you? It’s been a while.”

  “Pretty good, Tanner. You?”

  “Fantastic. I’m in between relationships, but you know, always looking.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Sophie said through a tight-lipped smile.

  Not that Cole wanted to encourage Tanner’s behavior in any way, but he had to admit, seeing the two interact was enlightening. It was different from his own interactions with Sophie, even those when she had been trying her best to shut him out, back when she assumed Cole’s only objective was to put her out of business. Underneath all of that disinterest, there was still an undeniable attraction that came across in her body language, her gaze, her speech. With Tanner, there wasn’t any to be found.

  The three strolled up and down the aisles for over an hour, and while Tanner clearly had no instincts when it came to women, the same couldn’t be said for his horticulture knowledge. He was quickly able to identify the species of plants that would work best with their design plan, and it was a relief to Cole that Sophie was in agreement with the good majority of Tanner’s suggestions. They each took notes, and at the end of their outing, they placed a large order with the store, planning to pick the shipment up after they’d broken ground at the site.

  Tanner received a text from one of his employees at another job and hurriedly excused himself, which Cole couldn’t say disappointed him at all. He walked Sophie to her car, but the fact that his own was parked immediately next to hers made the gesture feel considerably less chivalrous.

  There they stood, that impending, awkward goodbye suspended between them. Throwing all caution to the wind, Cole took a step toward Sophie. He yanked her into his arms and pulled her tightly to his chest. The relief that flooded him when she snaked her arms around his waist, locking her hands at his back, made his pulse lurch into a racing tempo. He didn’t want to let go. If he held her for just a few moments more, that innocent hug would turn into an embrace, and though everything felt right about prolonging the moment, he knew he had to take things slow if they were going to take things anywhere at all.

  In all honesty, they would need to take things really slow. Approximately two months slow. If Cole was going to win this contest for the McAllisters, a relationship with Sophie could only remain a far-off hope.

  A far-off hope he could handle, so long as it didn’t turn into a farfetched dream. He supposed only time would tell.

  9

  Sophie

  “WHAT’S HIS FAVORITE food?” Sophie’s mother, Geri, pulled a casserole out of the oven, scrunching her mouth in disapproval. “Well, that certainly still looks raw,” she murmured to herself as she shoved the chicken enchilada dish back onto the rack and reset the egg timer on the counter for an additional ten minutes.

  “I don’t know his favorite foods, Mom. He’s just a friend.”

  “But you haven’t invited any friends over to our place for years now. I was beginning to think you didn’t have any.”

  “Maybe Sophie doesn’t bring anyone around here because she would actually like to keep the few friends she does have, Mom. Your cooking is enough to scare any potential suitor away.” Sophie’s brother, Derek, plunged a baby carrot into the dish of ranch dip and tossed it into his mouth. Sophie always made an effort to bring a vegetable platter to her parents for their Sunday suppers, if only to ensure that there would be at least one edible item on the menu for the night.

  “He’s just a friend, and that’s even a stretch. More like a workplace acquaintance. We hardly even know each other, really.”

  “You don’t see me inviting any of my workplace acquaintances to dinner now, do you?” Derek cocked his head, sizing up his sister in the judgmental manner only a sibling could get away with.

  “And you think I would actually let you?” Caroline piped up from behind the bridal magazine she had cozied up with on the couch in the family room adjacent the kitchen. “It’s bad enough that you share a desk with that bombshell Tammy Weathers every weekday morning from five to seven. We don’t need to bring her around for dinnertime, too.”

  Derek padded across the room to plant a kiss on the crown of his fiancé’s head. “Trust me, sweet Caroline, I don’t want to spend more time with Tammy than my paycheck requires of me. People might not realize it, but news anchors often have to put on an act just as much as any movie star. That chemistry everyone mentions? It’s utter fabrication. All about the ratings. I know you’ve seen Marcus and Maggie from Channel 7.”

  “The anchors that are always bickering and arguing like an old married couple?” Sophie could hardly stand to tune into their show. Their bristly on-air personality clashes were not the best way to start one’s day. “It’s physically uncomfortable to watch them.”

  “My point exactly.” Derek strode back into the open concept kitchen and tossed carrot number two into his mouth like it was a piece of popcorn.

  “Don’t fill up on those,” Geri scolded her son over his shoulder. She swatted his hand with a whip of a dishrag. “You’re going to spoil your appetite.”

  Stretching across the counter toward Sophie, Derek whispered loudly enough for their mother to hear, “That’s the whole plan.”

  Maybe Derek was right. If he could act like there was chemistry between he and his coworker, then surely Sophie would be able to act like there wasn’t any chemistry with Cole. It couldn’t be that difficult, especially considering she’d only known him less than a week.

  Yet when the doorbell chimed his arrival, that slow growing confidence flew right out the window.

  “Glasses is here!” Caroline blurted. She yanked the magazine up to her mouth and covered it, like she could shove the words back in with the help of the glossy pages. “That was really loud. Sorry!”

  “Please don’t call him Glasses to his face,” Sophie begged. She wished Caroline hadn’t slipped up like that. The fact that Cole had a nickname—albeit one Sophie hadn’t actually assigned to him—was just further confirmation that he was more than the innocent coworker she’d made him out to be.

  “Glasses?” Geri perked up. “Oooh! Does he wear glasses, Sophie? I’ve always loved a man in lenses.”

  “Mom!”

  “I can’t help it.” Sophie’s mother squeezed her hands together in front of her excitedly. “Like Clark Kent. Superman. Something so intriguing about a man with a good set of spectacles.”

  “This conversation is beginning to make me weirdly uncomfortable.” Derek grimaced. “Just get the door, would you, sis?” He nudged a carrot toward the direction of the entryway.

  “Yes! Don’t keep the man waiting,” Geri ordered.

  Inviting Cole to their family dinner had been a terrible idea. Sophie wrote the evening off as a complete failure and Cole hadn’t even set foot in the house yet.

  Taking ahold of the knob, Sophie gathered a deep breath, steeling herself for the long, uncomfortable night ahead. She swung the door open wide.

  “You all are crazy.” There, standing on the porch, was her father, Jerry, a brown grocery sack in his hands and a disapproving frown tucked under his neat mustache. “Certifiably crazy.”

  “Dad, why are you using the front door?” Sophie scooped the bag from his hands. “And why did you ring the doorbell? Did Mom take your keys away again?”

  Her father bent to sweep a kiss on his daughter’s cheek as he crossed over the threshold and into the foyer. “I wanted to see what it would be like for a stranger to come into our home. It’s been so long since we’ve had company other than you and your brothers, you know? Wanted a firsthand glimpse of what it felt like to be an outsider.
We need some serious practice, Potters. This was not our best showing.”

  “We’re not that bad,” Geri attempted to negotiate with her husband.

  “First of all, that’s a solid, wood core door and you all are squawking so loudly I could hear every word of your conversation on the other side.”

  A guilty look shrouded Geri’s features. “Every word?”

  “I thought you gave up on your little Clark Kent fantasy years ago when I refused to wear spandex for that Halloween party at the Markesan’s,” Jerry jabbed. He turned to the others. “Family, I would not say entertaining is our strong suit. If we’re to impress this boyfriend of Sophie’s, we need to up our game. Really polish our act. We’re floundering at the present time.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend!” Sophie shouted, the level of her tone rising with each word like someone had twisted the dial on her volume.

  A throat cleared.

  Sophie froze.

  Mortified, she turned around, only to see Cole standing in the open frame of the door she had not yet closed. He had a plate of cookies in one hand, a potted succulent in the other, and he wore a broad, all knowing grin.

  “Glasses!” Geri cooed.

  Sophie shot her mother a warning glare, not that it would do anything. Her mother was in full-on swooning mode.

  “Cole.” Sophie stepped forward to take the dessert platter. “Come on in.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my family. We don’t get out much and sadly, we don’t have visitors in much, either,” Jerry explained as he placed a welcoming palm on Cole’s shoulder and the other in his hand for a firm, fatherly shake. “It’s a bit of a circus around here.”

  “I’m just grateful for the invitation, sir.”

  “Sir.” Jerry spun around and made intentional eye contact with his son first, then his daughter. “Did you hear that, you two? Sir. How many years did I try to get you both to call me sir, and here’s Cole, not even ten feet into our house and he’s already got it down. I like him already.”

  “I believe you wanted us to call you Sir Potters, Dad.” Derek explained. “We’re not even a fraction British.”

  “Sir Potters. Just sir. Either works perfectly fine for me.” Jerry waved his hand to welcome Cole further into the house. “Come on in, Cole, and make yourself at home. My name’s Jerry and my wife is also Geri. We like to keep things simple around here.”

  “Short for Geraldine,” Sophie’s mom interjected through a ridiculous smile.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Jerry asked. “An old fashioned? Manhattan? A brewski?”

  “I’m fine with water for now, thank you.” If Cole noticed the painfully obvious awkwardness of the Potter family, he didn’t let on. He took a step toward Geri and extended the small potted cactus. “This is for you, Mrs. Potters. I figured your house was probably full of flowers already, what with having a daughter who’s a flower farming phenomenon and all.”

  “Phenomenon?” Derek spat. He nearly choked on a carrot. “Sophie? A phenomenon? Hardly.”

  “No,” Cole said, “I actually read those very words in an online article about her flowers.”

  “Yeah, an article her brother wrote for a copy-editing class he was taking at the time.”

  “It’s not my fault Scott thinks so highly of me, Derek. Maybe if you two could work things out, he’d actually have some nice words to say about you, too.” Sophie knew it was a below-the-belt move, but she couldn’t keep from flinging the words at her middle brother. Every time they were in the same room, they reverted back to their childish ways.

  “That was harsh, Soph. Too harsh.”

  “You have another brother?” Cole asked. “There are even more of you?”

  Like she had been hanging on his every word, Geri rushed over, her cell phone in hand, already swiping the screen. “There sure are more of us! I even have a new grandbaby, Cole! She’s the most precious thing on this entire earth. I got to be there for her birth and everything. Right there in the delivery room, up close and personal. Look! I have a phone full of pictures!”

  Smiling, Cole turned away from Sophie to study the images pulled up on Geri’s phone. Sophie loved that her mother was such a doting grandmother, but she highly doubted Cole had any real interest in looking at the photos of a squished, wrinkly baby he didn’t even know. Still, he didn’t show it if it had been off-putting. He matched Geri’s excitement note for note, even admiring the little details like Aimee’s handmade flower headband and her onesie that read I Love Grammy across the front in pink glittering letters.

  He was a good sport, plain and simple.

  Realizing Cole could fend for himself, Sophie poured herself a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade from the pitcher on the counter and decided to settle in with Caroline on the couch until the casserole was finished, which at the current rate, would be several hours, if at all.

  “Should I do fondant flowers on the cake?” Caroline set her wedding magazine down on her lap and looked over at Sophie. “I love the look of fondant ones, but they are so time consuming to make and don’t taste all that great. Since I’ve taken on the crazy task of making my own cake for this wedding, I think it might be wise to go with something else.”

  “You know,” Sophie began, thinking out loud, “there are lots of varieties of edible flowers. Hibiscus and nasturtiums and bachelor’s buttons. Let me ask around and see what I can get my hands on. Could be the ideal compromise and the perfect touch for your cake.”

  “Really, Soph?” Caroline’s bright eyes widened excitedly. “That would be amazing!”

  Just then, Sophie’s phone buzzed in her pocket, alerting her to an incoming text. She pulled it up and frowned the moment she read the message on the screen.

  “Bad news?” Caroline inferred from Sophie’s expression.

  “Kind of. Our musical talent just cancelled for the market on Tuesday. Apparently, the lead guitarist has shingles.” Sophie sighed, daunted by the thought of finding a replacement on such short notice. “If it was any other market, it would be fine, but this is our first of the season. All of the fliers I posted throughout town advertised live music. Without that, it’s going to feel so much less special.”

  Jerry walked over to the couch and dropped his hands onto his daughter’s shoulders. “You know my offer still stands, sweetheart. Just say the word and I’ll bust out the old six string.”

  “You play?” Cole joined the group gathered in the family room. He had some sort of pink fizzy drink in his hand which Sophie assumed her mother had concocted. Sophie laughed inwardly, realizing very little of the drink had been consumed, its color and consistency disconcerting.

  “I dabble a bit,” Jerry replied.

  “That’s an understatement. Dad used to be in a rock band back in the day. What were you guys called again? The Peanut Butter Fish?”

  “The Jam Fish—like a take on jellyfish, but with jam. Get it? Like a jamming session. And it was more of a duo than a band. We lost our drummer and bassist when they decided to get married and start a family right before we went on our west coast tour. That just left me and old Stumpy. We got a few gigs after that, but nothing noteworthy.” Nostalgia filled Jerry’s voice and his gaze. “Man, I wonder if I’d even be able to tune that old thing. I haven’t picked up a guitar in years.”

  “Mind if I check it out?” Cole asked. He set his still-full glass onto the end table. “I’d be happy to see if I could help tune it. I play a little bit, too.”

  “Really? That would be aces!” Jerry smiled at Cole and winked at his daughter. “I like this one already, Soph. Keep him around as long as you like.”

  Sophie wasn’t about to explain again that Cole wasn’t her boyfriend. She’d already blurted that statement so loud she figured the neighbors had heard. Instead, she just smiled at her dad as he and Cole retreated to the den at the back of the house where Jerry kept his modest collection of musical instruments from his glory days.

  “Well, isn’t he a tall drink of water?�
� Geri plopped down onto the loveseat next to her daughter and soon-to-be daughter in law.

  “And that’s my cue,” Derek blurted, following the same path down the hall to join up with the other men.

  “Well, he is,” Geri said again, unashamed. “Where on earth did you find him, dear?”

  “He’s doing a little landscaping for the McAllisters,” Sophie answered.

  “He’s doing more than just a little landscaping for them,” Caroline corrected. “They’ve entered the Backyard and Beyond Summer Showcase and Cole’s their design architect. Not that I should even be saying any of this out loud.”

  “Why’s that?” Geri asked.

  “You haven’t talked with Derek about this, have you?” Sophie hadn’t had a chance to warn Caroline, and that lack of preparation had her feeling suddenly queasy. If Derek already knew who Cole was, then it was all over—all before it even had the chance to begin.

  “Of course, I haven’t,” Caroline confirmed. “I’m no dummy, Soph. That reeks of conflict of interest.”

  Geri, who had poured herself the same drink she’d concocted for Cole, took ahold of it and drew it to her mouth for a sip. Her lips contorted into a look of disgust, realizing how truly awful it was. If only she had the same ability to self-assess her cooking, too. “Why’s it a conflict of interest?”

  “Because Derek’s news station is sponsoring the showcase this year. No relatives of the station are allowed to be participants. It’s the contest rules, like with radio stations and concert tickets and giveaways like that.”

  “But Sophie’s not designing the backyard. She’s not a contestant.”

 

‹ Prev