Beth Hansen
Mrs. Hansen.
She may or may not have named their children, too.
She’d dreamed of holding his hand, laughing with him, living life with him.
Kissing him—
She shook her head hard. No. She would not relive those childish daydreams where he swept her into his arms, framed her face with his hands and pressed his lips to her—
“Beth? You okay?”
They’d reached the foyer of the building, and Garrett was looking at her funny. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“Uh, some older lady said just said hi, and you puckered your lips like you were—”
Her cheeks felt like flames were licking at her skin. “I did not. You were seeing things. Now let’s get out of here.” Pulling at his hand, she all but dragged him out the front door with barely a nod to Pastor Calvin, who stood by the doors, chatting with congregants.
She might have to find a different church after today.
“Beth, slow down.”
Brushing off his suggestion, she barreled forward across the parking lot until Garrett tugged hard on her hand, sending her flailing into his arms.
A second later, a minivan drove past, only a few feet in front of them.
Setting her back, Garrett turned her to face him. “I was going to humor you until you almost got us killed. What’s going on, Beth?”
I can’t handle pretending to date you because I’m afraid God might smite me with lightning—on top of the fact that I think you’re insanely gorgeous and have already named our future babies. Yes. That explanation would go over well. “Can we please just get to the car?”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
She glanced around, but there were quite a few other people in the parking lot, and most of them were sending not-so-discreet glances their way. “Please. I’ll—I’ll tell you in the car. Okay?”
He slid an arm around her shoulders. “Fine. But you’re walking with me this time, not dragging me. Deal?”
She nodded and spent the remaining walk to his car in silence, formulating what she was going to tell him. Maybe he’d forget. Maybe she could guide the conversation to a safer topic than her neurotic behavior.
He escorted her to the passenger side of his small SUV and opened the door for her.
Mumbling her thanks, she slid in, buckled her seatbelt, and pulled out her phone.
Facebook. She’d change her status, check her news feed, and look super involved in typing a witty comment on some random post, then maybe he would keep quiet and forget about it.
Clicking away while he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine, she gasped when Garrett pulled her phone from her hand. “What are you doing?”
“These little devices are evil.”
She unbuckled to grab it back, but he held it just out of her reach. “They are not. They are informative. Now give it back.”
“As your boyfriend, I have a right to make sure you aren’t talking to some other guy on Facebook. You know how many relationships that site has ruined?”
“First. Pretend boyfriend. And second. Not as many as a boyfriend who steals his girlfriend’s phone. Now, give it.” She lunged over the console to snatch it, but he stuffed it behind his back and laughed.
“Getting physical in the church parking lot might not sit well with the pastor, dear. Or God for that matter.”
Beth blinked, then looked down. She was all but sitting on his lap, her face only inches from his. Pushing back, she ignored the heat that singed her face and scowled at him. “You’re not playing fair.”
“All’s fair in love and war. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”
“You’re making me regret pretend dating you.”
He fished out her phone from behind him and handed it back. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to regret that. You know I couldn’t resist. Riling you is way too much fun.”
“You did that enough when we were kids. I would’ve thought you had it out of your system by now.”
He shook his head and laughed. “That will never happen, Bethany Ann Jamison, and you know it.”
She smiled and tucked her phone in her pocket, then looked out the window. He was right. He’d always think of her as a little sister to tease and play jokes on, even while he was pretending to be her boyfriend.
Some things would never change, and she’d do good to remember that.
The only positive thing about this whole exchange was that Garrett was pulling out of the parking lot, Beth’s strange church behavior forgotten.
At least she had one thing to be thankful for.
Seven
Other than nodding at Beth’s directions, Garrett was silent on the drive to Tilly and Adam’s house.
He could tell by the smooth lines in her forehead that his pretend girlfriend thought he’d forgotten about her promise to talk about her hasty exit from church, but nothing could be further from the truth.
She was hiding something.
And he aimed to find out what it was.
Did she hate going to church as much as he did? He doubted it. She came every week by the looks of it.
Was she embarrassed to be seen with him? Maybe. And it made sense that she wouldn’t want to tell him. But they hadn’t rushed into church and had shaken more than a few people’s hands as she introduced him. So that didn’t ring true.
Replaying the scene in church, something niggled at him.
What if—what if there was another guy?
Yes, now he remembered. Sitting two rows in front of them had been a guy who, after they’d stood up, had stared at Beth. What if she’d seen him, too? What if she liked him and suddenly realized faking a relationship with Garrett could ruin her chances with the man she really had feelings for?
Garrett frowned. That would explain it. Running out of the building—running through the parking lot.
And it could even explain that weird expression that came over her face at one point, almost like she was going to kiss—
No. It couldn’t be. She wasn’t Dayna.
And besides, they were only pretend dating anyway. She had every right to show interest in another guy, even though the very thought made him want to visit his punching bag.
Parking in front of a small house that looked more like a cottage, his eyebrows rose. This was not the kind of place he expected a doctor and his wife to live.
Then he remembered Tilly saying something about renting a small place while they built a new house.
Following Beth to the front door, he eyed her hand swinging at her side, empty.
Would it be too much to snag it up again?
They were pretending to be an item. It had nothing to do with the fact that it had felt oh-so-right when they’d held hands earlier. A perfect fit.
And the ground was still speckled with snow, so it could be icy, regardless of the remnants of salt that dotted the cement.
Beth rang the doorbell, and as footsteps echoed on the other side of the door, Garrett booted caution to the curb and grabbed her hand just as Tilly appeared.
“Come in, come in.” Tilly’s gaze zeroed in on their hands, but she didn’t say a word as she stepped aside, allowing them to walk into the house.
Garrett chanced a glance at Beth, who was looking at him, eyebrows raised.
He winked and shrugged his shoulders.
Tilly cleared her throat and motioned them to follow her. “We’ll have a lot more room to entertain once the new house is finished.”
She led them past the couch and a recliner to the dining room. The house might be small, but the décor was tasteful and homey, nothing grandeur but—comfortable. It fit Tilly and Adam well. “Go ahead and take a seat. Lunch is about ready.”
Adam appeared a moment later, carrying a large roasting pan. The aroma of beef filled the room. “Who’s hungry?”
Beth snatched back her hand and pressed it to her stomach. “I am. It smells delicious.”
Ev
eryone took a seat, Beth and Garrett across from each other and Tilly and Adam sitting at either end of the table.
After Adam said the blessing, Tilly led the group in small talk as they passed the dishes and dug into the classic Sunday afternoon dinner. Roast, potatoes, carrots, salad and rolls.
If he were honest, the roast was more than a little bland, and the carrots could have been cooked a little less, but he shoveled the food into his mouth and gushed over its savoriness.
That was the hard thing about being a professional chef. Everyone was nervous to feed him and anxiously waited to hear his comments to see just how good—or bad—their cooking was.
Unless they specifically asked for advice, he by default raved about everything.
He kept more friends that way.
After the food was gone and the table cleared, they all retreated to the living room.
Garrett sat down on the brown leather couch and pulled Beth down beside him. Their hips brushed together, and she quickly put a few inches between them.
Tilly sank into the couch on the other side of Beth. “Okay, I’ve ignored the gigantic hippo in the room for long enough. What’s going on between you two?”
Garrett glanced at Beth, who glanced right back at him. This was it. The moment of truth. Or trick, as it were.
After a moment of silence, Tilly popped up. “Fine, I get it. You don’t want to talk about it yet. Beth, do you want to get dessert ready with me in the kitchen?”
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Beth’s hand and pulled her toward the back of the house.
Adam, seated in the recliner, smiled and shook his head. “You know you aren’t going to be able to keep it from her, right? She’s a pregnant woman on a mission.”
“There isn’t much to keep from her, honestly.” The truth. As painful as it was.
“I may not be an expert in love and botched it up myself until recently, but there are enough sparks between you two to light the sky with fireworks.”
They hadn’t been going for sparks. But Adam was right. They were there, at least from Garrett’s point of view. “It’s—complicated. We have a weird history that makes it hard.”
“Man, if there is one thing I’ve learned, life with a woman is always complicated. Worth it, definitely, but complicated.”
***
“Spill it.”
Beth glanced at the large bowl of banana pudding in her hand. “You want me to spill the pudding?’
Tilly snatched the dessert from her hands and set it on the counter. “You know good and well what I’m talking about. If the tables were turned, there’s no way you would have let me wait even this long before making me spill it. So come on. What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing. We’re just—old friends catching up. Kinda.”
Spooning the lumpy, yellow yumminess into four smaller bowls, Tilly raised her eyebrows. “Kinda?”
Taking a seat on the barstool at the counter, Beth grabbed the whipped topping and started to dollop spoonfuls on top of the pudding. She could do this. It was only a little prank, after all. “He—I don’t know. He’s nice. I always had a crush on him back in high school, but he was older and went off to college, and I was the pesky little sister of his best friend. But seeing him the other day—we clicked. It may be nothing, though. We’re just hanging out right now and not going there yet.”
How true that last statement was.
“Okay, so have you all, like, gone on a date yet?”
“Does church count?”
“No.”
Beth shrugged. “Then no. We haven’t.”
“Does he know about the whole florist thing yet?”
“Oh yes. He knows. He stopped by the other day.”
Tilly arched her eyebrows. “He came to see you at work? How romantic.”
Beth snatched a vanilla wafer off the counter and tossed it at her friend. “Shut up.”
“Hey now.” Tilly picked up the fallen cookie from the floor and tossed it in one of the bowls. “We’ll give that one to Garrett.”
“You’re so mean.”
“Payback for the whole hot chicken thing. Now back to your relationship.”
“Til, we don’t have a relationship yet. We’re just good friends.”
“I think the keyword there is ‘yet.’ And good friends hold hands?”
She’d been as shocked as Tilly was when Garrett had snatched her hand at the last minute. He was definitely taking this prank seriously. She needed to remind her hand of that. It felt much too comfortable snuggled up tight to his. “We haven’t talked about it. Just going with the flow.” True words. Maybe they did need to talk about it. Lay a few ground rules. Plan when they were going to spring the HAHA you’ve been tricked on everyone.
“I get that. That’s probably a good thing. He hasn’t kissed you yet has he?”
Heat swarmed her cheeks, and her pulse hiked at the thought. “No. Of course not. We haven’t even been out on a date, Tilly.”
“Okay. A best friend had to ask, you know.” Tilly winked and, after stuffing a spoon in each, grabbed two of the dessert bowls and headed toward the living room.
Beth grabbed the remaining two and took a deep breath.
Yes, a conversation and plan were in order.
Because stealing a hand was one thing. She would survive that.
Beth’s heart, however, wasn’t going to be able to handle fake, stolen kisses.
Eight
“Can I come in?”
Beth paused, her hand on the car door handle. “In?”
“Yeah. To your house? You know, inside that place you live? So we can talk?”
They did need to talk. This afternoon had made it clear this “prank” wasn’t going to go well if they just winged it the whole time. She was hoping she could have time to type it out or something. Maybe plan via Facebook messenger. She could think better when he wasn’t right beside her, his presence messing with her mind.
But saying no would be rude. “Uh, sure. Come on in.”
Her evening of eating an obscene amount of chocolate and watching old movies to sooth the gaping hole in her heart ruined, she led him up the front steps to her little bungalow.
Had she cleaned up before she left this morning?
She’d been in such a hurry to be ready when Garrett arrived, she didn’t even remember.
Great, he was going to think she was a horrible slob who couldn’t even keep a clean house, like her former thirteen-year-old self whose bedroom was messier than most teenage boys’ rooms. Not that it should matter. It wasn’t like they were dating. He shouldn’t judge her house. She could live in a pigsty if she wanted it.
Unlocking the front door, she held a breath as she flicked on the light.
Relief washed over her at the sight of the gray couch, teal chevron striped throw pillows neatly in their place, no clean laundry dumped on top. Even the two old chairs she’d recovered herself were empty of clutter, which was definitely rare. The dark wood floors were mostly clean with no wayward shoes laying around. The room could use a good dust, but other than that, it was presentable.
She hung her purse and coat on the entryway coat hooks. “Can I take your jacket for you?”
He shrugged it off. “Nope, I’ve got it. Nice place you have here.” He tossed his coat over hers.
Great. Now she’d smell his aftershave every time she put it on. Part of her was delighted at the idea, the other part that didn’t care for torture of the heart—not so much. “Thanks. Would you like something to drink?”
He reached out and snagged her ponytail, yanking on it gently. “Beth, stop. It’s me. I know we’re all grown up, but you don’t have to be so prim and proper. I’m still Garrett, partner in prank crime. If I want a drink, I’ll raid your fridge myself. Okay? I might even drink milk out of the carton.”
She tipped her lips into a smile. “Sorry. It’s just been a long time. And don’t you dare touch my milk.”
A teasing glin
t sparked in his oh-so-chocolatey eyes. “Do I need to haul you over my shoulder and throw you in the snow for old times’ sake?”
She stepped back. “Don’t you dare.”
“Okay, fine. I’m not sure I could even lift you anymore.”
Her hand went to her flat-ish stomach that was a tad squishier than it had been as a teen. She was going to throw away all of that chocolate in her cupboard the moment he left. “You did not just say that.”
He grinned. “Not you, dork. I’ve skipped the gym and sampled desserts one too many times the last few years.”
He still looked like the same old Garrett to her, even if he did have a little more padding on him than his former beefed-out self. “Whatever. You think I’m fat. Don’t try to backpedal now.”
His gaze left her face and traveled slowly down her, then took its time back up. She squirmed under the appraisal, not sure whether to run or to slug him.
Finally, he caught her gaze again. “You, Bethany Ann Jamison, are most certainly not fat.”
She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the sizzling bubbles in her midsection. “Way to backpedal there.” She flopped onto the couch and, kicking off her black flats, tucked her bare feet beneath her. She might not feel relaxed, but she could pretend. She was getting pretty skilled at that lately. “So, you wanted to talk?”
Instead of taking the recliner on the opposite side of the room as she’d hoped, he plunked down beside her on the couch. “I figure if we’re gonna go through with this, we need a plan. All good pranks start with one, remember?”
Oh did she remember. She could picture them now, Jeff and Garrett, holed up in Jeff’s room, scribbles all over notebooks that looked like a prankster’s version of football plays. Their detailed plans were what helped them never get caught. “Too bad you didn’t keep any of your old plans. Those would have been hysterical mementos to have.”
He folded his arms and shook his head. “Now, Bethany. You know the evidence must be burned. It’s the cardinal rule of pranksters.”
She remembered the one burning ceremony she’d been a part of. The torn-out pieces of paper going up in flames. They thought they were regular James Bonds’. “Okay, so what’s this great plan of yours?”
A Side of Faith, Hope and Love: The Sandwich Romance Novella Collection Page 23