Chapter 10
Matt
The first person I run into at work on Friday is Aidan—finally. I don’t know who randomly takes most of a week off but shows up to work on Friday. Why not take the whole week off?
“Dude! The fuck have you been?” I ask as soon as I see him.
“Some personal stuff came up,” is all he grumbles at me with a shit-ass attitude.
“Seriously?” I throw my stuff into my locker and slam it shut. “That’s all you have to say for missing four days of work?”
He closes his locker and glares straight at me. “Uh, yeah.”
And that’s that. I know Aidan well enough. He’ll tell me when he’s ready to spill. Pressing won’t get me anywhere, and it’s not something we do anyway. Plus, he only gets this shit-ass attitude because of Veronica, so he won’t budge an inch anyway. So I move on and jump straight into telling him about my crazy-ass week.
“Well, maybe you’d like to know that Cadence and I had dinner.”
He freezes on our way to our trucks. “No shit, man. You finally had the balls to ask her out?”
I nod, a proud smile stretching my face.
“Was this when you left the bar with her this weekend?” he asks as we continue walking. “What happened to your no-dating rule?”
“Oh, it’s wasn’t a date,” I tell him, pulling my keys out of my pocket. “It was just a meal shared between two people. Two people who have an agreement.” I overpronounce the last word for emphasis.
“Seriously?” His brow creases as he says, “After all this time, there’s an agreement and no date?”
So I stare straight at him and throw his own words back in his face. “Uh, yeah.” Then I head out the back door without holding it for him.
“I don’t believe,” he says when he’s outside, catching up to me, “for one second that you’re okay with this. This was your idea?”
“Actually,” I tell him, one hand on the hood of my truck, “it was hers.”
He looks at me like I have four heads, his eyes nearly bulging out of his own. “I think I need an explanation.”
“No, not really.” I gesture toward my body, giving him a shit-eating grin. “She wanted this, so I’m giving it to her.”
He roots his feet to the ground and folds his arms over his chest. “Again, I don’t believe you.”
I huff out a breath. “Okay, fine.” Then I start from the beginning, telling him about leaving the bar with her, agreeing to the wedding deal, spending the night with her, plowing into her during a delivery, sleeping with her in her bed, finally getting dinner with her, running into her sister, and needing to get ready after work for the family dinner—as someone named Brian.
His eyes are even wider when I’m done. “Dude. What the fuck.”
“Who cares, man?” I wave him off. “She’s sexy.”
“I know you’re telling yourself that,” he says, leaning against my truck, “but we both know that’s not it. There’s no way this is only a two-week thing for you. Sure, you haven’t had a serious relationship with anyone in years. But this is the woman you’ve been after for a year. I mean, does she even know your real name? How does that not bother you?”
I open my mouth to answer him with some smartass remark, but then I realize she’s never said it. Not once. And I don’t think I’ve told her. Which does kind of tug on my heart. This really is that impersonal to her.
“I don’t know if she knows,” I admit, still thinking hard about it but acting like I don’t care. “I mean, maybe she saw some mail at my house when I left her to go meet up with Joyce.”
“You did what?” Somehow, his eyes stretch even wider. He might lose his mind in a second.
Oh yeah. I left that part out above. So I give him a sheepish smile. “It’s fine,” I tell him, giving him a dismissive wave. “Joyce apologized for everything and we’re moving on. No big deal.”
“Like hell,” he replies. “It’s been years. There’s no way you’re just ‘moving on’ now. And we both know that it’s never ‘no big deal’ with her.”
I narrow my eyes, ignoring the first part of his diatribe. “That’s what my grandpa basically said too.”
“Well, we both can’t be wrong. You’re probably not seeing it clearly, being on the inside of it.” Then he stands up straight. “What else did your grandpa say? How’s he doing?”
I let out a long sigh. “He’s basically the same. Asked about her though. Wants to meet her.”
He does nothing for a moment, but then his eyebrows rise and he snaps his fingers at me. “That’s it! Take her to meet him.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest. “What good would that do? It’s already nuts that I’ve been lying to him about her for a year. That’s literally the last thing in the world I should do.”
But he shakes his head. “No, it’s a great idea. Plus, it sounds like she owes you a favor for doing all this pretending with her family. Because then you’ll—”
Whatever he wants to say about this dumbass idea gets cut off when George, our boss, comes out the back door.
“You plannin’ on making any deliveries today, boys?” he asks as he signs off on another guy’s manifest. His tone is full of humor though.
“Yes, sir,” we both say at the same time.
“Good. Keep up the great work.” Then he waves us off and goes back inside.
“Wanna explain yourself?” I grit out at Aidan once our boss is gone.
He points finger guns at me. “Nope. Just do it,” he says before backing away and laughing.
“You’re the worst!” I yell at him as he retreats to his truck, but he just flips me off and drives away.
Naturally, all I can think about is his shitty idea. Take Cadence, the woman who clearly doesn’t want a relationship with me, to meet my ailing grandfather, the man who thinks I’ve been dating said woman for a year? That’s the worst fucking plan on this planet.
But… My brain won’t shut up as it whispers things like, It’d make your grandpa happy, and His spirits might be lifted by seeing that she’s real. And then other things like, Aidan was right. You know she owes you a favor for the wedding date. And the family dinner date.
Fuck you, brain. Fuck you. And Aidan.
Goddammit.
By the end of the day, I’m actually considering this fucked-up plan. I’ve somehow convinced myself that maybe it won’t be that bad. My grandpa can see that I’m “happy” in a relationship and that’ll help him. No harm, no foul. It’s not any worse than having me pretend I’m someone named Brian to make her family happy, right?
A lie for a lie. Done and done.
∞∞∞
Cadence
After a long, stressful day of showing houses to a couple with many opposite tastes, my doorbell rings at five. Right on time. Dinner is at six, but we have to be there at five thirty. So, as soon as I’ve opened the door, I rush right out. Because we’re in a hurry. That’s what I’m telling myself.
It’s not at all because I haven’t seen him in three days and he’s all I’ve been thinking about. No, that’s not it. Can’t be. And I don’t want to acknowledge how ridiculously sexy he looks in dress clothes. Seriously, it’s not fair that he looks this good. Not fair at all.
But he reaches out for my arm to stop me, like he so often has to do. I’m always physically trying to get away from him when my mental desires are so, so different.
“You don’t have time for me to tell you how amazing you look before we get in the car?” he says before eyeing me up and down.
With his gaze on me, I wonder what he sees. More than the little black dress—which is dressy enough for dinner but not too sexy—I put on mostly for him but also for the occasion? More than the new black heels that might kill my feet but give my legs a little more length? More than the dangling earrings in plain view because my hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail at the nape of my neck? From the heat in his eyes, I’d say yes. Which doesn’t help my cause. Not a bit.
I swallow hard before straightening my stance and facing him full on. “Go ahead. Get it over with.” My sarcastic words are punctuated with a sly smirk and a saucy hand on my hip. Then I extend the other one, which has my small clutch in its grip, so he can take it all in.
He brings one hand to his mouth and bites his knuckle. “That one-night business is such a shame.”
“Well, we did make it two,” I remind him, dropping my arms to my sides and walking over to his car. When I get there, I spin to face him and press my backside against his vehicle. “Unless you don’t feel like you can perform.”
When he reaches me, he comes within kissing distance, his lips a breath away from mine. Then he reaches his hand behind my butt, and I think he’s going to squeeze it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he presses his front against me and speaks, his breath fanning over my lips.
“You better get in the car before I show you just how well I can perform.” He finishes with a wink.
A shiver runs down my spine, but before I can smack a kiss on his lips and drag him inside my house by his sexy tie, he pulls the handle on the car door so I can get in. We move out of the way of the door, the whole time staring each other down, neither one of us daring to break eye contact. Once the door is open, he holds a hand out, so I take it and he helps me inside. Then the spell breaks with the click of the door shutting.
The fifteen-minute drive is silent. Dead silent. But his hand finds its home on my bare thigh. The warmth is welcome and comfortable. And it gets me ready for a night with my family thinking I’m actually dating him. Brian.
Yeah. We can do this. My heart’s not pounding like I ran a 10K while tied to a fifty-pound weight. My legs aren’t wobbling as we walk into my mom’s house. My palms aren’t sweaty when I hug my mom and introduce her to Brian. Nope.
The only thing I’m not in denial about is being in denial. Good god.
“So good to meet you, Brian!” my mom coos as she hugs him. “You know.” She releases him and glances at me. “I wasn’t sure you were real when my Cade here first mentioned you.” Her wink is meant to be cute, but it’s slightly condescending.
And it makes me want to hide under the carpet in this room. Forever.
“Oh, I’m real,” he assures her, winking back. Holding his arms out to his sides, he says, “Cade can certainly attest to that.”
I choke on the air—or lack thereof—I was trying to breathe and cough into my hand, clutching my small purse to my chest. My date never loses his smile as he gently pats me on the back. When he’s satisfied that he’s sufficiently helped save my life, he leaves his arm around my shoulders. My bare shoulders. Then he pulls me closer to him.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here tonight!” My mom puts a hand on his arm. “When Gina told me she ran into you two at dinner, I was so excited. Then she said you’d be here tonight and I was even more tickled.” Her grin is huge, but then she tames it down to get serious.
Uh oh.
“Because, as I’m sure you know,” she says, leaning closer to him, “Cade’s past has been rough and—”
“Okay!” I shout, pulling out of Brian’s grip and grabbing his hand in one fluid motion.
No one needs to hear that story. It’s long and boring and not for his ears. Not right now, anyway. If he actually cared, he’d ask. Just like I’d ask for his name. Right? Right.
There you are again, denial. When will we stop meeting like this?
I tug him along with me as I leave the foyer—and my mother—behind. “I think we’ll go help in the kitchen now. Thanks for inviting us, Mom!”
In the kitchen, Gina’s cutting up carrots for a salad and Paul is taking a pan of lasagna out of the oven.
“My god, it smells good in here,” Brian says, his free hand on his chest.
My sister, though, doesn’t miss where his other hand is—in mine. With her knife, she points to it and says, “Some things look good in here too, ya know.”
He gazes down at our hands, and when he looks at me again, he’s grinning. “I happen to think so too.” Then, to make matters worse, he brings our hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of mine.
Basically, I want to take her knife and stab something with it. Because my mom noticed the whole exchange and Gina’s smiling from ear to ear, and now, I want to stab more things. Paul is blessedly silent, setting the lasagna on the stove and pulling his phone out of his pocket. I mentally take back any of the bad things I’ve thought about him since my sister brought him home. He’s no longer the weird pushover I once labeled him as. He’s now the nicest person I know as he pretends like nothing’s going on in this bizarre kitchen scene.
Believe it or not, my stomach is the worst part of this whole thing. It’s flipping and flopping and cartwheeling all over the place, acting like it wants him to kiss me like that forever. The bloody traitor.
I take my hand from his grasp before it never, ever leaves it. Before it, too, becomes a traitor and switches to Team Whatever-His-Name-Is. I won’t have that. So I’ll put it to work by plucking the knife out of Gina’s hands and cutting the carrots myself.
I’m the one who said one night. I’m the one who put terms on our conditions. I’m the one who made up the rules. Do I get to be the one to change them, then?
I have no time to think about that question. My mom asks Gina if she watched the latest This Is Us episode and Brian says, “Oh, I love that show! Can you believe that Kate finally…”
I tune out. Of course he fits right into my family when I barely do. Naturally, this happens. When none of this is real and it’ll all be over in a little more than a week. Of course. And I shouldn’t care. I’m Cadence Griffith, marathon runner and wildly successful realtor. I shouldn’t need to lie to my family to impress them when I do impressive things all on my own. Arg.
Lesson learned: Don’t ever lie. Because this was the worst idea ever.