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The Surprise Wedding

Page 19

by Jean Oram


  Devon allowed her to stroke the smooth fabric flat again, and felt mildly guilty. The relationship between him and Jill had been short-lived because, as usual, he hadn’t been enough of that special, magical blend women needed from a man. She’d been a wonderful, patient girlfriend, but had ultimately deserved more than a daredevil goofball. In some ways he’d always thought they would eventually pick up where they’d once left off. Possibly make one of those if-we’re-not-married-by-thirty-five-we’ll-marry-each-other pledges like their friends Moe and Amy had going on.

  Jill was staring at him, searching for something in his gaze. He felt like he had to make it up to her—though what, exactly, he didn’t know. For being with Olivia? For appearing to have backed out of their friendly, never-actually-verbalized marriage deal?

  But things had been awkward and bumpy between them for some time now, and she had to know they weren’t ever going to get back together. They just weren’t right for each other.

  “I like this new look,” she said. “Are you growing up, Devon Mattson?” Her tone was playful and flirty as she came closer.

  “Not a chance.” The thought that she might find his makeover appealing left him feeling the need to retreat.

  “Because to me, this all looks a little sudden. A bit…fishy.”

  “It’s real.” He cleared his throat, putting his chair between them for protection, glad the chair’s back reached past crotch level. Just in case. “Olivia and I used to date years ago and we just kind of…” He shrugged, not wanting to lie, but wanting the right story to get out there.

  He was becoming as bad as Olivia.

  Jill stared at him for a long moment. “You never mentioned her.”

  He cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable. “It was a bad breakup.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  “Well, it’s nice for you. You deserve someone…” Her eyes settled on the tie, the new briefcase. “Someone you’re willing to change for.”

  Olivia was currently being dragged away from Main Street by Ginger, who had her by the arm. Logan silently walked beside them, his forehead deeply furrowed. Olivia and Jen had dropped off the valerian for Vintra and then Jen had left Olivia at Devon’s—should she start calling it their place?—so she could get changed out of her hiking clothes before finding lunch and then meeting with Muriel Rossis, the protest leader.

  She was now in a pair of pale pink flats, designer jeans and a frilly blouse. Professional but casual. The day was beautiful and Olivia had planned on walking downtown to have lunch before retrieving her car from the spot she’d parked it in before yesterday’s press conference. But Logan, who was still tailing her, had given her a lift, and in the end they’d wound up on foot, following Ginger to a pub for lunch.

  “You’ll love this place,” her friend assured her, as they cut across a residential street, the small homes lining it well-kept and adorable. Flower boxes, large porches. Rosebushes. Olivia could just about imagine herself sitting in one of the porch swings, idly watching the day go past.

  They rounded the corner and there was a gravel parking lot—no impossible heels on her feet today!—and a pub called Brew Babies. Even from fifteen feet away Olivia could hear the hubbub inside the busy place.

  “I should warn you,” Ginger said. “A couple of people wanted to meet you—the woman who finally managed to pin down Devon.”

  Olivia felt a shot of pride for catching Mr. Unattainable, before remembering it was just an act.

  “Hey, guys!”

  Olivia turned, recognizing the voice. Devon. Her fiancé.

  She panicked inside. How was she supposed to act? Ginger, her old BFF, would pick up on everything. But she was also the best secret keeper in the world. However, Olivia really didn’t need to pile another secret on her friend’s shoulders. And then there was Logan, who seemed to notice absolutely everything and had been trained to ruthlessly identify sneaks and liars. In other words, her.

  Olivia waited for Devon to catch up, then rose up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiled.

  “What do I have to do to get one of those on the lips?”

  “We’re in public,” she scolded gently, hoping Ginger and Logan bought the excuse.

  “Smooch away, lovebirds. Doesn’t bother me. I used to be Olivia’s roommate, remember?” Ginger winked at them and Olivia felt her face heat. “Oh, you’re so cute when you act all modest.”

  Ginger opened the door to the pub, ignoring a sign that said it was closed for a private gathering. As they stepped into the dimly lit room, Olivia’s eyes were momentarily blinded by the change in light. She stumbled backward as voices hollered, “Surprise!”

  Devon wrapped his arms around her, sheltering her from the sudden outburst. She began laughing, delighted as her eyes slowly took in the faces of several people she’d met over the past few days, plus some. Even Vintra was there.

  “For us?” she asked.

  Devon stiffened, his arms like a vise around her. She was certain she heard him curse under his breath.

  To their right was a table laden with wrapped gifts, and he cursed again as his gaze followed hers. He muttered something about taking advantage of people’s trust.

  She was going to lose him. He was going to confess and the repercussions would be huge for him. She couldn’t let him fail. She had to protect him.

  She turned in Devon’s arms, placing her hands against his shoulders. “We’ve got this.” She straightened his tie with affection, letting a smile play at her lips.

  Devon’s arms, which had been around her, loosened, his hands drifting until they landed on her hips.

  “You have a plan?” he asked.

  “Always.”

  Over her shoulder she noticed Ginger and Logan sharing a look.

  “Just…roll with it,” she whispered to Devon.

  An older man she hadn’t yet met, but who looked a lot like Devon, placed a flute of champagne in her hand, another in Devon’s. He smiled at her, then turned to the gathered group lifting his own flute in the air. “Cheers to the new couple! And can I just say, it’s about time someone managed to rope this boy into a serious romantic commitment?” The room filled with hearty cheers. “You’re obviously one of a kind, woman.” He smiled at Olivia again. “Welcome to Blueberry Springs.”

  Breaking up was going to be so hard.

  She turned to Devon. “To us and our dreams.” She clinked her glass against her fiancé’s. They each took a sip, eyes locked, and several people let out soft awws.

  “Kiss! Kiss!” Clinking began on glasses as though it was a wedding reception.

  Olivia lifted a brow, looking at Devon. “Better make it convincing, sweetie.” She gave the crowd a coy glance and people hooted with laughter.

  “We may as well give them what they want,” he said with a shrug. He took her champagne and handed it off to Ginger, along with his own. Olivia stood uncertainly, unsure what he was up to. He grasped her, bending her backward as their lips met, giving her a deep kiss with a great amount of flourish and show. The room erupted again.

  He set her back on her feet and the man who’d toasted them shook her hand. “I’m Devon’s father, Cory, and this is my wife, Trish. I believe the two of you have met?”

  Olivia nodded and Trish beamed at them and dabbed at her eyes.

  There were more introductions, and so many hugs. Hugs from everyone. Heartfelt congratulations. Before long, Olivia felt as if she’d been introduced to the entire town, and began to lose track of names until a very pregnant woman, Nicola, was introduced. Olivia could tell from the way Devon acted that he and Nicola were close. So close that, judging from how the woman was staring at Olivia, she knew every single one of her secrets.

  And maybe she did.

  Olivia glanced at Devon, but he didn’t seem at all worried.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you at long last,” Nicola said.

  “Devon talked about me?” Olivia asked curiously.

  �
�He talked about you by not talking about you,” Nicola said with a small, knowing smile.

  Olivia looked to Devon once more, but talk changed to their engagement, Devon’s new look and whether or not he would win the election. The room was busy, full. Laughter was the most prevalent sound, drowning out the small jukebox playing in the corner. Her unconditional welcome and Devon’s little affectionate touches slowly became overwhelming, and Olivia eventually found herself seeking a quiet space to breathe.

  She wanted to be a part of this. To have it be real. Blueberry Springs was a good town, with a good group of people, and she only hoped that the plan she’d made with Devon not only worked, but managed to keep everyone safe from the pain that was undoubtedly coming down the line, thanks to her.

  Devon joined Olivia at the small table tucked near a corner of the boisterous party. She’d retreated there a few minutes ago, looking as though her energy was waning. And he could see why. Her act as the adoring fiancée, genuine as it seemed, had to have been demanding on many levels.

  Over the past hour or more she’d poured everything she had into her act, remembering names, making connections, asking about people and making them feel special, liked. Acting as though she planned to stay in Blueberry Springs forever. She’d glowed, looking the part of a happy, newly engaged woman about to embark on a wonderful new life.

  It had felt natural having her at his side. Comfortable. She’d said the right things, making people laugh—him included. She’d been vibrant, beautiful, and he hadn’t been able to resist placing the odd affectionate kiss on the top of her head as a thanks for making it all so easy.

  Easy to lie to everyone he knew and cared about.

  People were calling them a power couple, were saying Devon was going to win the election.

  Their plan seemed to be working, but it felt as though something important was going to implode.

  He cared too much. About everyone. About this. Even the exhausted Olivia.

  “I think it’s safe to say this is a tad out of control,” he said quietly.

  Her eyes danced as she gave him a weary smile. “Totally. But look at how much they love you—the whole town is throwing us a party. That’s pretty cool, Devon. And I hope you’re campaigning out there.” She finished off the flute of champagne she’d been nursing. She licked her lips, intoxicatingly sexy. He’d caught himself watching her legs throughout the party, strong and long in her jeans, her ruffled blouse flowing around her generous curves. Hiding them in a way he didn’t appreciate.

  And she was his.

  For the time being.

  Alvin Lasota, a bit of a curmudgeon and old-timer, sidled up. “You really running for mayor?”

  “He is,” Olivia said on his behalf. “You going to vote for him?”

  She had his number, just like that. Direct and straight down the pipe. Exactly the way to handle a man like Alvin. Olivia was officially the best.

  Alvin gave her a once-over. “You from the city?”

  “Yes.”

  “I figured as much.” His usually frowning lips dug deeper, similar to the furrows his tractor made in fresh soil.

  Devon reluctantly made introductions, knowing Alvin was testing them. But he also knew that if Olivia could win over someone like Alvin, the town was as good as his.

  “What makes you think he’d be a wise choice for running this town?” Alvin asked, and before Devon could interject with his reasons, he continued, “We’ve seen what he does with that little Honda car of his. What will he do with the mayor’s car?”

  “The mayor doesn’t get a car,” Devon said patiently. Olivia placed a hand on his forearm as though reminding him not to blow it.

  Alvin scowled. “I hear she’s living with you and you’re not married.”

  Devon’s protective side reared up as Olivia flushed with embarrassment. “You know what?” he said carefully, “I don’t see how our relationship is any business of yours.”

  “As a man who plans on running this town, you are my business, I think—as is everything you do or don’t do.”

  “I still don’t see how my personal life impacts my ability to do the job.”

  “All I’m saying is that maybe I don’t want to vote for someone who doesn’t have his personal ducks in a row. No offense.”

  Devon darted a look at Olivia. No fancy shoes and briefcases were going to fix that one.

  Olivia’s eyes flashed as she leaned closer. “Devon is the most helpful, most honest person I have ever met. He’s going to make a mighty fine mayor of your little town. And even though I’m still uncertain how he’ll straighten you out, I’m pretty sure he’ll find a way, as he is the most determined man I’ve ever met. And while you might not admire or love that about him, I do.”

  She leaned back, waiting for Alvin’s next move.

  The farmer slowly began to nod. “I like her.”

  “I do, too,” Devon said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close.

  She smiled at him in that special way and he felt as though the whole world was his oyster. Alvin gave them both a tip of his hat as he left them and Devon knew he had one more vote.

  He let out a chuckle of disbelief. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  “Keep the compliments coming, big guy. I like it.”

  “Did you enjoy the party?” he asked Olivia.

  “Loved it.” She gave his hand a squeeze, her huge smile tugging at his heart.

  It was dangerous to start thinking like he was—that maybe the woman he’d once loved had never really left. That she was still in there, and maybe they could get it right this time.

  He needed to remember that her sparkle wasn’t from love or affection. It was due to the attention, the prestige of being engaged to a man who might one day run the town. Olivia had walked out of one self-important life and right into a new one—one of her own design.

  But this wasn’t his real life and anything that happened in correlation to that was nothing but practiced behavior on her part. Everything was an act and anything they built between them was being placed on an unstable foundation and would ultimately crash.

  “Livvy,” he said, clearing his throat as he fought to push away his emotions. “We’re not engaged. We need to—”

  “I know.”

  “They brought gifts.”

  Her eyes shone with excitement.

  “For the engaged couple.”

  The smile slowly faded. “Right.” She gave the pub’s doorway an uncertain glance as though wishing to escape through it.

  “This has gotten out of hand.” So fast. So darn fast.

  She swallowed hard. “There’s etiquette we can fall back upon.”

  “I assume we’re not talking about actually getting married.”

  They both glanced away when their eyes met.

  “What do we do with the gifts?” he asked quietly.

  “We aren’t expected to open them here today.” People had already begun to drift back to work, their lunch breaks over. Her voice was shaking slightly and he wondered if she was feeling guilty, too. “We hold on to them and return them, unused, when we break up. Send a note and a thank-you.”

  “What if it’s monogrammed?”

  “I doubt there was enough time.” She was soothing him, he realized, her hand running up and down his arm. And oddly enough, it helped.

  He glanced at her. Something between them was different. New.

  But it was still just an act.

  “You like this, don’t you?” he accused. “The hoopla. Being the center of attention.”

  She looked down at her newly polished nails, her shiny ring. There was a hesitancy, a hint of guilt in her expression. “It is easy to get caught up in it all.” She looked up suddenly. “But, Devon…?”

  “What?”

  “Just…don’t think. Okay? This stuff is what I’ve been trained for, so just follow my lead and we’ll be okay. We’ll get through this. One day at a time.” She placed a cool hand
against his cheek, her expression tender. “Now kiss me.”

  “Livvy…”

  “Smear my lipstick, otherwise the people who’ve been watching us fret will catch on.”

  And just like that, the tension in Devon’s shoulders eased, because there was one thing he was good at and that was messing up Olivia’s lipstick.

  Olivia was exhausted. The party had been an amazing surprise and had caused her to fall in love with the quirky little town. She’d seen the admiration, the affection for Devon, and when she’d cracked jokes about how people had better vote for him they’d laughed and assured her that they would.

  He was a good man and she was proud to be the woman at his side, helping him.

  But the lying. The deceit. It tied her stomach in knots and she forced herself to focus on what was true, genuine, and to let that shine.

  A few people were still in the pub despite the party wrapping up, and she made sure she chatted with them, thanked them for coming. The dutiful wife-to-be of the candidate de jour.

  Please, please let him win.

  “I called it!” Mary Alice said with a triumphant laugh, toasting her sister. “Married by the end of the month.”

  “They’re only engaged,” Liz retorted, giving Olivia an unimpressed look. Apparently she thought she was going to lose a bet or two.

  “There’s a big election going on, Mary Alice,” Olivia stated. They were not marrying by the end of the month. They weren’t marrying, period.

  “After he wins would be a perfect time.”

  Olivia felt a swell of excitement. Mary Alice was on side! And her support could help turn the tide for Devon.

  “You think he’ll win?” she asked honestly.

  “Well, who knows. But him getting engaged…I suppose it’s made me realize he’s done some growing up over the past few years. He’s got my vote.”

  “He’ll be good for the town,” Liz added.

  “He’s outgrown his daredevil side, and with a woman like you to keep him in line? He’ll do all right.” Mary Alice hauled Devon into the conversation. “You caught yourself a good one, Devon.”

 

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