by Noelle Adams
She gave herself a pep talk as she got off the bus and walked the five minutes to her parents’ house. She was going to let all her mom’s little comments just roll off her back today. She wasn’t going to take them personally. She wasn’t going to let them make her feel insecure about herself. Her mother loved her. She knew that. She was just a critical kind of person and didn’t really understand Chloe’s personality. And she was deeply upset about her own mother’s health.
Nothing she said right now really mattered.
Chloe wasn’t going to let it matter.
She was filled with resolve as she entered the house and stuck her head into her father’s home office to say hello. He got home from campus midafternoon and worked in his office until dinner. He gave her a friendly greeting and then immediately turned back to the article he was writing.
Her mother was in the kitchen, making a salad to go with the casserole in the oven.
“Hello, dear,” her mother said with a smile. She was an attractive woman in her fifties with beautifully styled salt-and-pepper hair and a perfectly made-up face. “Can you help by chopping those tomatoes?”
“Sure.” Chloe washed her hands, pulled a second cutting board out of the slot where it was neatly kept, and positioned herself next to her mother at the counter. “It smells good in here.”
“Thank you. We have about fifteen minutes left. Be careful of your hair, dear. We don’t want hair in the salad.”
Chloe kept a smile on her face as she took a step back and reclipped her hair. It had been slipping down all day, so half of it was hanging over her shoulders now. When she’d pulled it all up again, she went back to the tomatoes, being sure to cut them in small even cubes the way her mother liked.
Today was going to be easy and peaceful. She wasn’t going to let her mother bother her.
“I wish you would do something else with your hair.”
Chloe swallowed and chopped. “I like my hair like this.”
“But you have such nice hair. It would look so much prettier if it was cut shorter and given some shape. You’d look so much more polished.”
All three of Chloe’s sisters were “polished” the way her mother was. Chloe was the only one who wasn’t. “I like it long like this. Polished isn’t me.”
“It could be if you’d exert a bit more effort. You’re so pretty. You just need to showcase yourself more. And maybe lose a few pounds.”
Chloe was in decent shape, but she was made curvy—with very round hips and very full breasts. A lot of guys seemed to like the way she was built, but she never looked slim like her mother and sisters did.
“I like myself the way I am.” Chloe was still smiling, still breathing evenly, still chopping. She wasn’t going to get angry or upset this evening.
She wasn’t.
She really wasn’t.
“Of course you do, dear. I’m just trying to help.”
“I know. But I’m not like you. I’m like... me.”
“I know you are. Did I tell you that Charlotte’s son is back in town? He’s just about your age, and he’s getting a graduate degree in engineering. You should meet him.”
“Maybe.” Chloe finished the tomatoes and looked around. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“No. I think everything is ready.” Her mother reached over and tucked a strand of hair that had escaped the clip behind Chloe’s ear. “Maybe try some hair spray.”
Chloe managed not to growl and ignored the comment.
“Your grandmother is coming for a visit next week,” her mother said in a different tone.
“Mima is? Really?” Mima was what she’d always called her mother’s mother.
“Yes.”
“Is she healthy enough to travel? We were going to go there to see her.”
“I know. We’ll still go in another month or so, but she decided she wanted to come and stay with us for a couple of weeks. She’s stopped all her treatments, but she says she feels fine to travel. She just told me this morning. I would have liked some preparation time, but she has so little time left, and of course we’ll do anything she wants. She’ll be staying for two weeks.
“That’s great. It will be wonderful to have her with us for so long.”
“There is a... problem.”
The stiff expression on her mother’s face triggered warning bells in Chloe’s mind. They clanged loudly, making her freeze. “What is it?”
“You know how Mima has been waiting and praying for you to get married since you were born. She’s always wanted all her grandchildren married. And since she had so little time left, I wanted to make her happy.”
Chloe’s belly twisted, and her eyes grew very round. “Oh my God, Mom.”
“Chloe.”
“Mom, you didn’t tell Mima that I’m married, did you?”
“No. No, of course not. She would be very disappointed in an elopement. I just told her that you were engaged to a nice young man so she could be happy before she passes. I assumed we’d go to see her in Texas, so it wouldn’t matter if there wasn’t an actual man. But now...”
It took a moment for Chloe to process what her mother was saying—what it meant—but when she did, she covered her face with both hands. “Oh my God, Mom, how could you do this?”
“I wanted her to be happy. I didn’t want her to be disappointed in...”
Her mother didn’t finish the sentence, but Chloe knew the ending anyway.
She didn’t want her grandmother to be disappointed in Chloe.
Mima was a devout Catholic and had very traditional ideas about male/female relationships. Chloe had always known enough to never mention that she was sexually active. Mima would be shocked and horrified to learn that she wasn’t still a virgin. Chloe knew Mima—like her mother—wanted her to get married eventually, but she was only twenty-five.
She hadn’t realized her singleness was quite such a disappointment to her family.
“Surely she understands...” Chloe’s voice broke, so she had to start again. “Surely she knows that people don’t get married now as young as they did when she was raised.”
“She knows. But she’s always been so happy about your sisters’ husbands and families. You know how she is.”
“So what am I supposed to do? I don’t have a fiancé. I’m not even dating anyone.”
“I know, dear. We can work something out.”
“What can we work out? If she’s here for a couple of weeks, she’s going to expect to actually meet this fictional man.” Chloe’s tone was growing sharp, so she purposefully softened it. “Mom, how could you do this?”
“I’m sorry, dear. I only did what I thought best. But I’ve been thinking. Two weeks isn’t very long. There might be a way to salvage the situation.”
“How? She’s going to be really hurt when she learns I’m not engaged. Not just because I’m not getting married but because you lied to her.”
“We can’t let her know that.”
“But what can we do? There’s no man.”
“But you know a lot of young men. Don’t you have a friend or acquaintance who’d be willing to pretend?”
“Pretend?”
“Act as your fiancé. Just for a couple of weeks.”
“Mom, you can’t be serious. You want me to ask a guy to act like he’s engaged to me?” Chloe’s mind was whirling. She was hurt, outraged, deeply upset.
But she also had a sudden image of Brent standing in his pajamas in the kitchen. Brent sitting behind the steering wheel of his old Jeep this morning.
If she needed a guy to pretend to be her fiancé, he was the one she would ask.
“It’s crazy!” she burst out, pushing the image of Brent out of her mind.
“I know it is. And I never would have put you in this situation if I’d known it would come to this. But what else can we do? She’s your Mima. She only has a few months left. We can’t hurt her.”
Chloe swallowed hard. “I know we can’t hurt her. But I really don�
��t know if this will work.”
“I think it will. Just think about it. Mima isn’t coming until next week, so we have a few days to work something out. I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.”
Chloe’s eyes burned as she went into the dining room and fiddled with the place settings, mostly to get away from her mother for a few minutes.
Her mother had been wrong. Wrong in every way to lie to Mima this way.
But it couldn’t be taken back now.
Chloe couldn’t let Mima be hurt.
Which left only one thing to do.
She needed a fake fiancé for a couple of weeks, and there was one obvious guy she could ask.
A big, bearded guy who didn’t talk much but always listened, always helped her when she needed it.
She remembered the wave of attraction she’d felt for him that morning as she was standing up beside him in the kitchen.
He was hot. She hadn’t thought about it before, but she was definitely thinking about it now.
Maybe posing as his fiancée wouldn’t be too bad.
Two
BRENT WAS TAKING HIS first bite of a grilled cheese sandwich when Chloe came home. His whole body jumped to attention, the way it always did when she appeared.
The first time he’d met her, he’d been housesitting for his friend Vince, who lived in the apartment across the hall. Steve and Michelle had been on their way to Chloe’s parents’ house to help her when the bookcases in her father’s office fell down, and they’d asked if he would come with them for an extra pair of hands.
He’d had no idea who he was going to help. He’d had no idea Chloe would be so beautiful and vibrant and talented and sincere. He’d had no idea he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about her. He’d had no idea he’d wait breathlessly for the next time he would see her, the next time he’d be close to her.
He had assumed, once he moved into the apartment as her roommate, that familiarity would relax some of his besotted paralysis, but it hadn’t. He still had trouble getting a single word out when she was around.
He was naturally shy, so he was always quiet with people he didn’t know, especially women he found attractive. But his inability to converse normally had never lasted as long with anyone else as it had with Chloe.
Chloe was still dressed in the same clothes she’d worn to work that morning, and her long brown hair was slipping messily out of her clip. Her big dark eyes were more heavy-lidded than usual, and her lush mouth was turned down in a frown, which wasn’t at all normal for her. She came over to the kitchen bar and slumped into a stool next to Michelle, who was working on her laptop in her habitual position.
“Bad day?” Michelle asked with a smile.
Brent stood up, still holding his partially eaten grilled cheese, and stepped over to the pan on the stove. He tried to force himself to offer to make her a sandwich, but the words trapped in his throat.
“You have no idea.”
“Brent is making grilled cheese,” Michelle said, thankfully picking up Brent’s slack. “They’re delicious.”
Chloe glanced over at him, and his stomach and his heart clamped down hard. Since he couldn’t get a word out, he held up the loaf of bread in a gesture she’d hopefully understand.
She gave him a little smile. “Thanks, but I already ate.”
He nodded and went to sit down again.
She glanced around the big open-plan room—living room, kitchen, dining room, and entry hall all in one large space with exposed brick and updated finishes. “Where’s Steve?”
Michelle was chewing her last bite of sandwich, but she hadn’t yet focused back on her laptop. “He has an event at the greenhouse this evening, so he’s working late.” After a brief pause, she continued, “So what was so bad about today?”
Chloe shook her head. Her eyes were focused on Brent again, and he didn’t understand her expression. It was almost questioning. Like she wanted to ask him something but wouldn’t.
He had no idea what she might want to ask him, but he’d say yes to just about anything.
She finally turned back to Michelle. “My mom. You won’t believe what she did.”
“Tell us.” Needless to say, it was Michelle talking. Brent wasn’t yet capable of speech.
“You know about my Mima, right?” She glanced over at him. “That’s what I call my grandmother.”
Brent nodded, gratified that she was making him part of the conversation even though he hadn’t yet said a word.
“Well,” Chloe continued, “apparently my mom told my Mima that I was engaged.”
Brent almost choked on the bite he was swallowing.
“What?” Michelle’s eyes were huge behind her glasses. “But you’re not engaged!”
“I know!”
Brent’s heart had gotten lodged in his throat, but at this affirmation, it returned to its normal position in his chest. He’d momentarily been terrified that Chloe had been keeping a secret engagement from him.
He wasn’t sure what he would have done if he’d learned she was going to get married.
It was one thing to know he would never be able to have her. It would be something else entirely to watch her get married to some other guy.
“So why did she tell her that?” Michelle asked.
“Because my Mima has always wanted all her granddaughters to get married, and I’m the only one who isn’t. She only has a few months, so my mom thought it would be all right to just lie to her about me.”
“That’s a pretty crappy thing to do,” Michelle said. “Both to your Mima and to you.”
“I know.” Chloe was leaning against the countertop, looking discouraged and exhausted and achingly beautiful. “But now we’re stuck with the lie, and Mima is coming to visit for a couple of weeks. So my mom wants...”
“Oh my God,” Michelle breathed. “She wants you to fake it?”
“Yes.” Chloe’s eyes were on Brent again. He couldn’t seem to look away. “She wants me to find an available guy and fake it.”
Brent suddenly understood why she was looking at him that way.
She wanted him to be her fake fiancé.
He’d been starting to relax, interested in the conversation and worried about Chloe. He thought he was almost ready to say something.
But his spine stiffened and his stomach twisted at the realization.
What if she asked him? He wasn’t sure he was capable of saying no to her, but how would he ever manage to play a role like that?
He’d be so appallingly bad at pretending to be engaged to her that he would ruin everything.
“Are you going to do it?” Michelle asked.
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t. I’d just tell my mom no and say that she has to tell the truth to Mima. But it would really hurt Mima to know my mom lied to her, and she has only a few months left. I’m not sure I can...” Chloe’s voice broke. Her gaze dropped.
Brent’s chest ached. He wished he were a different man—one who could walk over and put an arm around her, comfort her the way he wanted.
Michelle reached out to rub Chloe’s back. “I’m so sorry. It’s a terrible situation to put you in.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Chloe’s eyes darted over to Brent again, but they flickered away quickly when she saw he was watching her.
She definitely wanted to ask him.
He could kind of see why. She had a ton of friends, but most of them were female. She dated a lot. A lot. He had good reason to know this. But she usually went out with a guy a few times and then moved on to someone else, and she hadn’t been on a date in a few weeks. There wasn’t a boyfriend waiting in the wings to take on this role, and Brent was the most readily available of her male acquaintances since Steve and Lucas were already taken.
But surely she could imagine what a terrible job he’d do with the part.
He wished he could do it, but he couldn’t.
“I guess I’ll try to find a guy who’s willing to help me,” Chloe said after a min
ute. “I know it’s ridiculous, but maybe there’s something I’ll be able to do for the guy to pay him back. If I had more money, I’d just hire someone, but I don’t have enough extra money for that. So it’s going to have to be a favor kind of thing. I’d honestly do anything if a guy was willing to help me out with this.” She gave him another quick glance.
Brent’s body went cold with fear. His throat was closing up, and he was starting to sweat.
He hated that this happened to him when he was put on the spot, but it always did.
Ever since he’d peed in his pants when he was supposed to introduce himself on the first day of kindergarten.
He saw Michelle start to look at him, and he knew what was about to happen.
He knew it. He could hear the words, see the events unfolding.
He panicked.
He jerked to his feet so quickly the stool wobbled. He tried to mumble, “I’ll see you later. I’ve got some work to do.” But he wasn’t sure the words that came out were even close to coherent.
Then he escaped to his bedroom.
AN HOUR LATER, HE WAS working on his laptop on his bed when there was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?”
The door opened a crack. “Can I come in for a minute?”
Chloe.
His heart started to race, but he’d managed to use the time alone to pull himself together, so he was able to say, “Sure.”
She stepped into his small bedroom and closed the door behind her. She was giving him a tentative smile, and he felt his own mouth turning up at the corners despite himself.
She looked around the room—which consisted of one exposed brick wall, a double bed, a small side table he used as a nightstand, and a messy desk in one corner. There was a desk chair, but it was piled up with books and printouts of his dissertation chapters.
He was propped up on two pillows with his computer on his lap, so he closed it and sat up straighter. Realizing she was looking for somewhere to sit, he straightened up the comforter and patted the bottom of the bed.
She came to sit down, slipping off her high heels and folding one leg up on the bed while letting the other dangle. Her eyelashes were thick and dark, and she lowered them almost shyly. “I guess since you got out of there like a bat out of hell, you know what I’m going to ask you.”