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Fake Marriage Box Set

Page 68

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“I’ll have to watch it sometime,” I said. “Think you could set aside an entire day to binge it with me?”

Mom laughed. “Like I have anything better to do,” she said. “Just show up when you want, I’m always here.”

I frowned. Mom was spending the rest of her life stuck in her house. I considered adding onto it, maybe a pool or a bird sanctuary or anything that would excite her, but I realized they all would take several months to complete.

Months that we didn’t have.

“Where are you taking Maddie?” she asked after a moment.

“Jazz Bistro,” I said. “I didn’t want to take her anywhere too fancy.”

Mom laughed. “The bistro? I took you there for your 10th birthday, Gavin. Surely you could have gone somewhere at least a little romantic?”

I shrugged. I couldn’t tell her that our date was far from romantic.

“It’ll be fine. I don’t expect her to make a fuss about a three-star restaurant. And if she did, then she’s definitely not the one,” I said.

“Any woman willing to put up with you deserves the best,” mom said. “Promise me you’ll take her somewhere a little nicer on your third date?”

“I promise,” I said. “If we get to a third date.”

“Things are going well, aren’t they?” she asked. Her thin glasses were falling down the bridge of her nose, and she slid them back toward her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you get a third? Unless you’ve messed up somehow and you’re worried she’s not as interested in you as you thought.”

“I didn’t mess up,” I promised. “Everything’s fine, Mom. She likes me, I like her, and we’re happy on our dates.”

Mom rested against the headboard and closed her eyes, a pleased smile on her face.

“And you’re happy with her, right?” she asked and shook her head. “Of course you are, why would I even ask. She’s wonderful. A woman any mother would be proud to have as a daughter-in-law.”

I gritted my teeth and finished my beer as I agreed. “She really is beautiful.” I knew that objectively Maddie was gorgeous and sexy, with a crazy attractive body that made it difficult to ignore her, but every time I thought of her I had nothing but awful thoughts. Thoughts that I definitely couldn’t tell mom.

“I hope she isn’t worried about me,” mom said. “I mean to say that I hope I haven’t put a damper on any conversations.”

I knew the last thing mom would want was to get in the way of my love life. I shook my head.

“No. Actually, I think it’s made her more eager to settle down,” I said, realizing how ironic the statement was. “You don’t have to worry about a single thing, mom.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” she said and held my hand. “I want you to be happy, that’s all.”

I squeezed her hand in return. “I won’t make any promises,” I said. “But I’m happy with her. That’s all I can say.”

Mom continued praising Maddie’s good looks and charisma, and I forced myself to agree with every word. She was much happier than usual and spent time dreaming about a fake future with Maddie that she would never experience.

“We should all get together, after a few more dates, of course,” she suggested. “I would love to have her over for dinner again.”

“I’ll ask her about it,” I said and checked the time. “I should head out now; she’ll be at the restaurant in a half hour.”

“Gavin!” mom yelled. “You’re not picking her up? You’re making her drive to the date herself?”

“She’s a grown woman, mom,” I argued. “She’s more than capable of driving herself.”

“And here I thought I taught you to be a gentleman.” She shook her head. “I need to apologize to that poor girl for raising such an impolite fool.” She was joking as she spoke, but I had to bite my tongue to keep from spilling the truth about Maddie.

“I’ll apologize for you,” I said and threw the empty beer bottle in the recycling. Karen wished me luck on my date, and I left for the restaurant.

Maddie was late for dinner, and it worsened my already sour mood as I sat at our table and waited. The Jazz Bistro was a cushiony little restaurant in the middle of a fast-paced downtown scene, with a live jazz band every night and a seafood crawl on the weekends. It was spicy Cajun food, priced for the middle class with only a few sophisticated drinks for the upper class. Maddie had taken us to an expensive restaurant the first time; I wanted to knock her down a notch before agreeing to her insane terms.

I ran over my own terms in my head. If we were going to do this, we’re doing it my way. I repeated my rules over and over again in my head as the minutes passed. A waitress brought me my drink and a basket of Cajun-cheddar biscuits, and I watched the jazz band perform on the other side of the restaurant. I had requested a booth to feel more secluded, pretending it was a romantic date and not simply a business meeting. I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, and as she arrived, I stayed rooted in my seat and didn’t stand to greet her.



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