Just Pretend (Love Comes To Town)

“Sounds good,” I say, even though it doesn’t.

If I never saw the creepy guy again it would be too soon, but then again, money is money.

**

I stay over with Mom that night, and even offer to stay the next day, but she shoos me away. “Pat is coming over, I’ll be fine. Plus, you have a job to get to. And don’t you think about spending all of tomorrow night here. Pat’s taking me out for dinner, and I don’t want you hanging around here when you have your own life to live.”

At work, I’ve barely stepped through the door when Nolan’s on me. “Hey. How is she?”

“She’s fine. Upset, of course. But not hurt at all, at least.”

“And her place? Did they put out the fire in time?”

I manage a bitter laugh. “Depends on your definition of ‘in time’. Mom lost the back part of her house, but I guess at least the whole thing didn’t burn down.”

“Damn.” Nolan frowns. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s OK,” I tell him. “I’m just glad she’s not hurt.”

“You still up for tonight?” Nolan says. “It’s OK if you’re not.”

I shrug. “Mom has her own plans for tonight, so I guess I’m game. It’ll be a nice distraction. I might not exactly be the life of the party, though.”

“Well.” Nolan flashes a winning smile. “Tonight’s not exactly a party, so that sounds perfect to me.”

He squeezes my hand.

“OK,” I say.

I squeeze his hand back.

“OK,” he says. “Well.”

He steals a kiss, then pulls away. “I should get to work.”

“Me too,” I say.

Neither of us make any move to leave.

He grins. “You first.”

I grin. “No, you.”

“Get a room, you two!” one of his guys calls as he passes.

Nolan just chuckles, his arms wrapping around me, as he eyes me sternly. “Alright then. Time to get to work, you.”

“You’re not making it easy on me,” I point out.

“Me?” he protests. “What about you, wearing those high heels and thigh-high tights like that?”

I lean in, on tiptoe, so our lips are nearly touching: “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?”

He steals a kiss, then pulls away. “Send you to work. Like a good boss.”

I chuckle, heading off with a wave over my shoulder. “On it, boss.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur. I fill in just Josie once I get home, since Wynona’s off on a date with her woodsman.

“Do you think your mom would want a care basket?” Josie asks.

“If it has your signature gingerbread cookies, then yes,” I tell her. “You can drop off a couple here too.”

Josie chuckles. “You pig. Anyway, I thought you had a dinner to get to.”

“I do.” Realizing that I’ve been unconsciously chewing on the inside of my lip, I force myself to stop. “God, I’m meeting his family, Jos.”

“He must really like you!” she singsongs.

“I don’t know,” I say. “He says the fake engagement might come into play. This dinner could just be so that us being engaged comes off as believable to his family.”

Josie takes a skeptical crunch of whatever she’s eating. “And the picnic? And him offering to come help out with your mom? That was all for show too?”

“I don’t know,” I protest. “I’m just trying to take it day-by-day at this point. Although I accepted that job with that weirdo.”

“No good can come out of any job with a cat hater,” Josie says stoutly.

“You don’t even have any cats,” I point out.

“Regardless,” she says.

“Yeah, well, I’m in a bit of a bind here. I can’t have Mom with a hole in her house for months on end. This way, I can earn enough that we can afford to patch up the back.”

“I still can’t believe Peyton is broke,” Josie comments. “Guess it makes sense, all those designer clothes and handbags, her and her fiance jetting off to a different resort every other weekend.”

“She picked a fine time for it,” I say drily. “Though who knows, maybe they’ve been overextended for years. Peyton’s never liked living within her means.”

“Well, at least your mom has you,” Josie says.

“And you,” I say. “Those cookies are yummy enough to make up for any pain she’s feeling.”

Josie chuckles. “You make them sound like Valium.”

“Well, you never have told me the secret ingredient, so…”

Josie laughs some more. “OK. But aren’t you just putting off getting ready at this point?”

“Yeah, probably,” I admit.

“Then go! Get ready for your dinner.”

“Don’t say it like that,” I grumble, though I’m grinning despite myself.

“Sure thing—enjoy your dinner,” she simpers.

“Screw you.”

“Love you.”

It takes way longer than reasonable to find an outfit. Everything either makes me look like a fat nun or a skinny slut. Finally, I settle on a turtleneck dress and head out to Nolan’s car.

When I get in, he doesn’t say a word.

“Uh, hello?” I say, but his eyes are still on my body.