The talk moved away from the library, but Tucker continued to delight Meredith with his stories of teaching, thankfully leaving out the part where his student drew a dick for a science experience.
Finally, Meredith made a move to leave. She stood and let out a satisfied sigh. “Thank you so much for the lovely dinner, Tucker. You’ve got a quaint little home here. I can see you two are both very happy.”
Tucker put his arm around me. “Incandescently.”
I smiled, but I wondered who really ever talked like that? Tucker apparently. And it worked. Meredith giggled. I’d have never thought she was capable of giggling, but Tucker got one out of her.
“He’s adorable, Holly. And, he’s convinced me that, yes, I need to help you with the library project. In fact, let’s go all out. New building. New media resources. New books. The whole works.”
My heart did flips of happiness in my chest. Tucker pulled me in and kissed my head and I hugged him from the side, so grateful for the help. He was right. We could pull off fake marriage for a night to help the children and community of Salvation. I wanted to do a happy dance.
“And I want to be a part of it all,” she finished.
My heart stalled. What did she mean?
“I want to work with you both on the planning process through to the building. It will be the Jamison and Meredith Reynolds Library. Such a lovely ring to that, don’t you think?”
“Beautiful,” Tucker said grinning at me until he realized I wasn’t smiling back. He quirked a brow.
Meredith clapped her hands in glee. “Oh, I can’t wait. We’ll be seeing a whole lot of each other. I look forward to more of your wonderful cooking, Tucker.”
We said our goodbyes but when the door shut, I sagged against it, feeling completely deflated.
I looked up at Tucker. “This is all your fault.”
He cocked his head and put his hands on his hips. “I think you mean thank you.”
I let out a frustrated growl. “You’ve made things worse.”
“What am I missing? The goal was funding for the library. She walked out of here committing funding for
the library.”
“And she wants to be involved and have more dinners and flirt with you—” Ugh. I pushed away from the door and stalked to the living room. “It’s all over now.”
“I’m not following,” he said, turning to watch me as I paced.
I stopped and glared at him. “We’d have to stay faked married.”
He shrugged. “So? We’re good at it.”
I gaped. “We’d have to move in together because she’ll drop in and expect you to cook. Building a library will take months. A year. Maybe more.” God, I thought I was going to throw up. “It’s just not feasible.” Then, because I was emotionally wrought, the waterworks started. The last thing I wanted was to cry in front of him, but there was no stopping it. The library had been right here at my fingertips and now it was gone because I couldn’t correct her and tell her I wasn’t married during my visit to her home. God I was such an idiot to think this would work.
“Jesus, Holly. It’s not that bad.”
“Not for you, Mr. Charm-the-Pants-of-Old-Ladies.”
He let out a breath. “I just meant that we can figure something out. Don’t cry. I can handle pissed off, but crying...”
“I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Sensitive.”
He stepped to me and put his arms around me. “I can be sensitive, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t break me to see you cry.”
I was too wrapped up in myself to resist his strength. “What a mess.”
“Nothing that we can’t work out.” His arms gently rubbed my back and needing the soothing I sank into him. He kissed the top of my head.
“You sure are optimistic,” I quipped. A part of me wanted to dump his half-glass full out so he could understand what a disaster this was.