She giggled and ducked her head. “I mean, in general.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Of course. You?”
Their eyes met, and Celeste felt something powerful move between them. “Yes,” she said. “I want to get married. But I don’t want it to be because we’re friends or the man feels like he has to ask me because that’s the next step in our relationship. I want him to be so passionately in love with me, he can’t wait to make me his wife and spend his life with me.”
Silence filled the space between them, and embarrassment heated Celeste’s face. She looked away and cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, I’ve only been dating losers. So, needless to say, this is my first engagement.”
Brad got up and came around the table, sending another dose of surprise through her. He put his arm around her in the small space, and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m sure you’ll get a man exactly like that one day, Celeste.”
She leaned into him, because he was strong and warm and it felt so nice to have someone reassure her that she was worth a man like that.
A couple of days passed, and Celeste didn’t physically see Brad. They sure did text a lot, and he made her laugh and smile while he wasn’t even present. That was a definitely plus for the man, and she couldn’t wait until the music festival.
She woke one morning, because her stupid phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Her heart zinged around in her chest. Maybe something had happened to her grandmother. She’d fallen and broken a hip last year, and now she lived with Celeste’s parents.
Her pulse skipping, she swiped on the conversation to see a long text string from her sisters. Alissa had started it, of course, as the woman went fishing at three-thirty in the morning.
Well, Celeste had been up almost that late texting her not-real-fiancé, and she didn’t appreciate the early-morning texts—especially when she saw they’d been talking about her. Olympia had convinced the head chef at Redfin to cater for their private party using Alissa’s fish, which was sweet.
But she wanted to know a head count, and she’d invited significant others. Celeste almost rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t she just say boyfriends?
Assume 2 for Celeste, Alissa had said. I heard she was seeing Boyd again.
“Ew,” Celeste said, though she had texted Boyd as late as last week.
I thought it was Ben, Olympia had sent.
“Double ew,” Celeste said to herself. Ben was so boring. No, he didn’t cheat on her, but he didn’t do anything and that was almost worse.
At least it’s not Andre, Sheryl had said, and then Gwen—the traitor had said the exact same thing.
It’s definitely not Ben, Alissa said, and they’d finally stopped talking about her pathetic love life.
“Just wait until you show up with Bradley Keith,” she said, practically stabbing at the screen as she typed them all a message.
It’s not Ben, and it’s six-freaking-AM! Celeste sent. I thought Grandma had fallen and broken another hip. Jeez.
Just mute notifications, Olympia said, as if Celeste didn’t know how to use her phone. Her phone had been on vibrate, but she kept all of her jewelry out, and when the phone shook, so did the gold.
How many for you then? Gwen asked.
Put me down for two, Celeste said. Since I’m up already.
Who are you bringing? Alissa asked, and Celeste paused.
She had the perfect opportunity to tell them. Right now. Before word got out around the island about the engagement. But the party was in only a couple of days—before the music festival. She had time. And what an entrance she’d make….
Her decision made, she answered, I’ll surprise you, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Since she was up, she might as well do something. And the first thing she did was dive for her phone again and text Gwen to keep her mouth shut about Brad.
Of course I will, Gwen said. You said not to tell anyone, and I didn’t. It was hard, though!
Celeste smiled and shook her head before she went to get in the shower.
An hour later, she knocked on her mother’s door at the same time she went inside the beach house. “Ma,” she said, feeling happier today than she had in a long time.
“Hello, darling,” her mother said. “What’s in that bag?” She lifted her coffee mug to her lips. If there was a way to get on Gladys Heartwood’s good side, Celeste knew it. Her mother loved two things: white chocolate popcorn and a peach fritter from No Dough.
Celeste held up the bag and shook it slightly. “Two peach fritters.”
“I’m so glad I haven’t started making breakfast yet.” Her mom smiled and accepted Celeste’s hug. “How are you, baby?”
“Good,” Celeste said. “Really good. Where’s Grams?”
“She’s in the bathroom. Dad’s on the back porch.”
Celeste set the pastry bag on the counter and went out onto the porch. “Hey, Daddy.” She leaned over and planted a kiss on her father’s forehead.
“Hey, Celeste.” He grinned at her like he was the happiest man alive because she came to visit. “You gonna sit by me?” He picked up the pillow on the other half of the loveseat, and Celeste did sit by him.
She loved her father. She’d been the second daughter to come along, and being behind the perfect Olympia had not been easy on her. They’d bickered constantly, and her mother always seemed to favor O. But her father had doted on her. Taken her for daddy-daughter dates and paid for her to get her nails done before dances and taught her how to change a tire.
Not that she actually did that—she called her father, who came and took care of whatever Celeste needed him to.
She linked her arm through his and sighed as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “It’s nice here,” she said. “You guys are much closer to the beach that we are.”
“Yeah, there’s that big swell moving north,” he said. It definitely put the house Gwen and Celeste lived in farther from the actual shoreline.
“Daddy?” she asked.
“What, jitterbug?”
Celeste smiled out at the waves rolling ashore. “I met a new man.”
“Ho, boy,” her dad said with a chuckle. “Is he a nice man? Because I don’t think any of the others have been all that great.”
“It’s just the beginning,” she said. “And it’s a secret, okay? You can’t tell anyone, even Mom.”
“Yeah, all right,” he said, though Celeste knew he’d tell her mother. And his. They didn’t keep secrets from each other, which was why she didn’t tell him who the new man was. And he didn’t ask. He just sat with her, and when her mom opened the door and asked, “Celeste, do you want coffee?” he said, “I’ll take some, honeybee.”
Celeste loved his Southern drawl. She loved how easy-going he was, though he hadn’t always been like that. He’d run the inn before turning everything over to Olympia almost a year ago, and she remembered him leaving the house in suits early in the morning. She’d go to bed before he came home, but he always came in a pressed a kiss to her forehead before he went to bed.
“Yes, I’ll have coffee,” she told her mom, because her mom made the best coffee on the island. A few minutes later, she brought out two mugs, and Celeste sipped happily.
“Dad, I’m thinking about bringing in another act for Christmas.” Before he’d trained Olympia, he’d worked with Celeste on all of their events. She’d been overseeing that arm of The Heartwood Inn for a few years now.
“Do we have room in the schedule?” he asked.
“I think we do,” she said. “It wouldn’t have to be long, and it’ll increase bookings right near the beginning of December, after they drop.”
“You do what you think is right,” he said. “Which act will come in only four months?”
“There’s a really great Cirque de Soleil type of group that’s local to Whistlestop Shores,” she said. “Some of the hotels there have treated them badly, and I got an email from their manager yesterday. I think we should give them a try.”
> Because everyone deserved a chance. Her mind flew back to her proposal for Brad’s non-profit, and she pulled out her phone. They’d been texting back and forth since their second date had gone so well.
He’d said he’d talked Bella “off the ledge” and “convinced her to keep quiet about the engagement for now.”
They’d started a new game last night—Did you know?
She typed quickly, glad her father wasn’t reading over her shoulder. Did you know I once submitted a proposal to your construction company for an outdoor wedding hall? She sent the message before she could second-guess herself.
She’d been harboring negative feelings for him since that proposal had gone unanswered, but now that she’d spent some time with him, she knew the man didn’t have a mean bone in his body.
He was probably just busy at the time, like she constantly seemed to be.
I had no idea. When?
When you first started up, she said. I wasn’t happy when you won the bid for the swimming pool at Heartwood.
I’m calling you.
I’m at my parents house.
Call me when you leave.
She tipped her phone against her body so she couldn’t see the screen.
“Is that him?” her father asked. “The new man?”
“Yes.”
“I could tell.”
“How?” Celeste asked, looking at him.
“You sighed happily when you texted him.” Her father looked at her with such kind, blue eyes. “Seems like you like him.”
“You know what, Dad? I do. I really do.” And those were some of the scariest words Celeste had ever said out loud.
But nothing would rival introducing him as her fiancé to her sisters at the party that weekend.
Chapter Nine
Brad took off his shirt and threw it on the bed, surveying the clothes already there. He felt like an idiot, because Celeste had said the dress was casual that night. But he’d been engaged twice, and he knew how important meeting the sisters was.
And for Celeste?
He better wear the exact right shirt with his charcoal slacks. He picked up the light blue one he’d had on a few minutes ago, and pulled it over his head again. Tiny pinstripes adorned the bottom third, and he decided the polo would have to do.
A moment later, knocking sounded on his front door, and he hurried down the hall and through the living room to answer it.
Celeste stood there, he own dark slacks sexy and slimming on her legs. She wore heels, which brought her closer to his height, and her blouse was black with a bright pink and blue floral design.
In short, she was stunning.
In the week since he’d run scared into her office and asked her to play pretend with him, Brad had developed some real feelings for the woman.
“You look amazing,” he finally said, though she was still sizing him up. “How’d I do with the shirt?”
“It’s great,” she said, tiptoeing her fingers up the three buttons to his collar. Shockwaves moved through his shoulders and down his arms from her touch, and her skin hadn’t even met his yet.
Their eyes met, though, and she looked like she might be sick.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, stepping into his house. “Want to give me a tour? We have a few minutes.”
“Sure.” He closed the door behind her, glad it was Friday, as his cleaning service came on Thursday afternoons. His coffee cup still sat in the sink from that morning, but other than that, the house was quite clean.
“Living room,” he said, indicating the leather couches. “Standard. Kitchen.” He walked past the furniture that marked where the living room ended. “I mostly eat out.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done more than fry an egg or make a sandwich.
“Is that because you don’t like to cook or don’t know how?” she asked.
“I don’t know how, which means I also don’t like it.” He smiled at her, surprised and yet thrilled when she slipped her hand into his. They weren’t in public, and he had a moment where he wanted to call her on breaking her own rules.
No touching unless we’re in public.
They hadn’t spent much time in public after that second try at Radish, but he’d seen her around the inn, and they texted a whole lot.
They’d talked a few times, most notably when she’d called to tell him how she’d submitted a project for a grant he’d done. He’d asked her to tell him about it, but the proposal hadn’t seemed familiar.
She claimed she’d never heard back, but Brad himself had made sure every submission got a response. He’d told her he’d check into hers, but she’d told him he didn’t need to.
He had anyway, if only to satisfy his own curiosity. And because she’d disliked him because of her perception that he hadn’t responded to her.
Brad probably would’ve chosen to fund her outdoor wedding hall had he seen her proposal. Number one, he loved supporting local Carter’s Cove businesses, and number two, he liked partnering with other powerful people.
And whether Celeste knew it or not, the Heartwoods were powerful on the island. They owned prime beach real estate and the ritziest resort south of Whistlestop Shores.
“I asked how many bedrooms,” Celeste said, her grip on his hand tightening. “I think I lost you.”
“Sorry,” he said, blinking out of his memories of their conversations that week. “Uh, three bedrooms. Two bathrooms. A little deck.” He pointed out the French doors. “It’s no beach view, but it’s nice.”
“It is nice,” she said. “And north side of the island. Houses up here aren’t cheap.”
“Did you know I played professional football for seventeen years?” he asked in a teasing tone.
She giggled and ducked her head, those soft curls falling between them. Brad reached out and tucked them back, which drew Celeste’s eyes to his. Something like fairy dust descended on him, and his gaze dropped to his mouth.
He really wanted to kiss her.
Clearing his throat, he stepped back and said, “We should go.”
“Yes,” she agreed readily. “Yes, we should.”
He swiped his keys from the kitchen counter and headed for the garage exit. “I thought we’d take the truck tonight. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” she said, her voice still a little on the awkward side. What had she been thinking in that magical moment? Would she let him kiss her?
He shook the thoughts from his mind as he opened the garage door and helped Celeste into the truck. First, he had to make it through the party. Then he could think about kissing her.
They arrived at the inn several minutes later, and he went into an employee lot, as directed by Celeste. She led him in a back door, and before he knew it, they were walking toward a large table with three other blonde women.
Her sisters.
Brad swallowed and squeezed Celeste’s hand. She’d given him very few instructions for tonight, and he wasn’t sure why she’d suddenly stopped dictating to him what to do or how he could act.
“Oh, dear Lord in heaven,” Olympia said, her eyes locking onto Brad. She stood up and tossed her napkin on the table. “Bradley Keith.” She looked at Celeste, easily twenty questions swimming in those blue eyes. “Are you two…?”
Celeste held up her left hand, where the diamond could’ve blinded someone ten yards away. “We’re engaged.”
“Engaged?” at least three people said simultaneously. From there, chaos erupted. Every woman had something to say, from a statement to a question to giggling. They all ogled the ring, and everyone hugged Celeste too.
“Okay, what’s going on?” another woman asked, and Brad turned to her. “I thought this was my party.”
“Celeste is wearing a diamond,” Olympia said. “A huge diamond.”
Alissa—Brad assumed, as it was supposed to be a dinner celebrating her opening the fish monger shop—looked like she’d been hit with a brick. “What in the world?” She looked from Ce
leste to Brad.
“Hello,” he said. “Hello, everyone. I’m Bradley Keith.”
“The Bradley Keith?” Alissa asked, her eyes widening.
“You can call me Brad,” he said, shifting his feet and reaching for Celeste’s hand again. He didn’t appreciate her leaving him out to dry like this.
“Sorry, Alissa,” Celeste said. “It’s nothing, really. Let’s sit down. This night is about you.”
But Brad knew better. This night was all about Celeste, and he suddenly felt like she was using him in the worst way possible.
“Let me introduce you,” she said.
“Yes,” another sister said. “Let’s do introductions.”
“I’ll start,” Olympia said, retaking her seat. Brad sat next to her, with Celeste on his right. “I’m Olympia Heartwood, and this is my boyfriend Chet Chadwick.” She beamed at him, and Brad could see why. He was handsome, and with a name like Chadwick, when he bought Olympia a diamond, it wouldn’t be small.
“Celeste,” Celeste said. “And my…fiancé, Brad Keith.”
“I’m Alissa. And this is my boyfriend Shawn Newman.”
The Newman’s lived on Carter’s Cove too, and Brad was glad to recognize another name.
“Sheryl,” the next sister said. “And my boyfriend Gage Sanders. He’s the new head baker here.” She smiled at him, obviously proud.
“Gwen,” the last woman said, and Brad smiled at the familiar face. “And I have no boyfriend or fiancé.” She narrowed her eyes at Celeste, and Brad felt his date shiver beside him. She’d probably be up all night explaining things to her sister.
And for one brief moment, Brad thought she deserved it. He turned to Gage next to him. “So you’re a baker.” He didn’t look like a baker, but Brad tried not to judge people before he knew them.
And yet you did exactly that to Celeste.
“I used to be a Marine,” Gage said, and Brad smiled and nodded, shocked by his thoughts and glad he didn’t have to talk for a minute.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to talk a whole lot during dinner at all. The first course arrived, and the Heartwood sisters chitchatted with each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in months.
Not Her Real Fiance Page 6