Fake Marriage Box Set

A little while later, I felt like I was learning to drive all over again. I shook my head. It had been a while since I'd driven myself anywhere. But it wasn't a totally unpleasant feeling; in fact, it was kind of nice to be there behind the wheel, with good music on the radio and a warm evening breeze in my face.

I had asked Gretchen her address, so this time, instead of the impersonal task of meeting her at the restaurant, I could meet her at her home. I smiled a little to myself as I looked at the cute little place. Then, I parked the car and got out. Sure, I could just honk the horn and wait for her, but something told me she would appreciate the extra effort of my walking up to the door to meet her. And maybe, just maybe, I'd get myself invited inside. She had said that we wouldn't have sex until the fifth date, but that didn't mean we weren't going to fool around at all, surely.

“Hey,” Gretchen said when she answered the door, sounding a bit breathless, and I wondered if she had run to answer the door. I hid my smile and pulled her into a hug.

“Hey,” I said against her hair.

Gretchen looked nervously around. “I'm not quite ready,” she admitted. “Or rather, one of my clients just emailed me regarding an appointment for tomorrow, and I meant to get back to them first. Do you want to come in? Would you mind waiting for a minute or two?”

“No problem,” I said, entering the house feeling smug.

Gretchen laughed. “I'd give you the tour, but you're standing in most of the place already,” she said, gesturing around the open-plan home. It was small, but it was obvious from the colorful cushions on the sofa to the driftwood hung on the wall that every piece had been carefully selected by her.

She waved a hand toward the kitchen. “So, that's the kitchen, and this is the living room. And the hall. There's a bathroom over there, and then upstairs is my bedroom and the guest room.” She laughed again

, sounding even more nervous. “It's not luxurious or anything, but, it’s mine.”

“It's home,” I said, looking around, smiling a little. I shook my head. “To be honest, I've been living in my place in New York for about six years now, and it still doesn't feel homey.” I grimaced. “Actually, it feels like it's all come out of a catalog.”

Gretchen grinned. “Yeah, I think a lot of bachelor pads end up that way,” she said. “We don't have that many bachelors here on the island, but-” She clapped a hand over her mouth, and I couldn't help laughing.

“You're adorable when you're flustered,” I told her.

She blushed brightly, looking even more flustered, and I wanted to say things like that again and again, just to keep her looking like this.

“My computer is upstairs,” she told me.

“Okay,” I said easily. “I'll wait down here.” I thought that was a good line. I didn't want her to feel like I was intruding. I'd make it to her bedroom. I knew, but there was no reason to rush things.

“Okay,” she said, looking relieved, and I knew that I had made the right decision. I mentally high-fived myself.

Dinner went well, and then we found ourselves back at her house.

Gretchen was laughing, taking off her heels even before we were halfway across the parking lot. “I have sand everywhere,” she confessed. “Pretty sure it's in my mouth, even.”

I smiled over at her. She'd had a few cocktails with dinner, and I could see the effect of them on her, in the way that she was giggling and easy. But I'd also had enough to drink that I was a bit tipsy. “Yeah, me too,” I told her, with regards to the sand. I grimaced. “Good thing I didn't wear a suit for this one.”

Gretchen giggled. “Yeah, that would have been a bit out of place,” she agreed. She shook her head. “Honestly, I didn't even know that place existed. Thanks for showing it to me. I'm sure my parents are going to love it, next time they're in town.”

“They don't live around here?” I asked curiously.

“Nah,” Gretchen said, shaking her head. “I'm born and raised here, but as soon as I went to college, my parents moved back to California. My mom missed her family, and both of my grandmothers still live there. So.”

“Do you ever get back to see them?” I asked.

“Yeah, a few times a year,” Gretchen said. “I don't go back for Christmas usually because the flights at this time of year are insane, even though most people are trying to come to Hawaii rather than leave it. But still, it's not worth it. I was just there a month or two ago, though, and I'll take another trip there in the spring.”

“You must miss them,” I said, even though I wasn't sure why I was tempering her giggly humor with such depressing thoughts.

“Yeah, I miss them,” Gretchen said easily, though. “But I get to live here.” She spread her arms and twirled around, losing her footing for a moment in the sand.

I reached out to steady her. “Easy there,” I said.

I couldn't see, with the dim lights what they were, but I was pretty sure she was blushing. “Thanks,” she said. She paused. “You know, I'm usually not this drunk.”

“And you usually don't sleep with people before the fifth date,” I said seriously. I couldn't help it; that was all that I could think about at the moment. We'd had a good conversation over dinner, and I was starting to realize that not only was I sexually attracted to her, but I also just simply liked her, as a human being.

“I feel like we've been on a lot more than two dates,” Gretchen admitted as we walked toward her home. I was thankful that the restaurant hadn't ended up being that far away, it had meant that I could drink guilt-free at dinner.