The Art of Falling in Love with Your Fake Fiancé: A small town closed door romantic comedy (Sweetkis

18. Georgie

EIGHTEEN

Ever wake up in the life you have and wonder how it got to be such a mess? Yeah, that’s how my Saturday is going, too.

I spent all of last night eating my emotions. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to power eat cucumber, straight from the Porter’s garden, and peanut butter sandwiches (do not knock ‘em til you’ve had them) or eat Mary’s lavender ice cream until my stomach burst. I tried to watch something on TV, but gave up and laid on my couch listening to a true crime podcast instead.

There were moments where I forgot that I had spilled the beans to Lorna, setting off a possible avalanche for Duncan and the Porters, and when I was reminded, I would grab my phone, wanting to get lost in social media. Only I couldn’t.

Each time I’d open an app, there was that photo of Levi with me. Us. Together. Lips on lips, kisses for days. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but it is a great picture. The issue being that I’ve been tagged again and again in the image, so every time those pictures are shared, I’m notified. It’s crazy-making. Intense. Maddening. It’s made me never want to go on social media again. Don’t even get me started on the comments. The comments section is a whole other sad story that I still can’t and don’t want to get into. It has sliced me deep.

When I arrived at work this morning, there was another box that had been delivered. I’d opened it hoping it was an order of books, but no. It was a present sent from one of the brands Levi works with.

“Oh my god, this is out of control,” I scream-sigh as I kick open the back door of the shop and toss the box inside. It’s a chenille throw blanket in a rose color. Not bad really. I can use it to hide under when I walk down the street. It’ll have a scarlet letter on it, a C for champagne, since that’s what Lorna smelled on my breath. At least it was Veuve Clicquot.

More sighing. I rarely drink, and the one time I do, I have a smackdown with the one person I shouldn’t be talking to. It can’t get past me, the irony being that I was coming out of a bridal fitting for my fake wedding…oh, it’s all quite the full-circle moment, isn’t it?

I messed up, but hey, I can say that when I do mess up, I mess up good. I’m still telling myself off as I walk past a mirror in the back room, catching a glimpse of myself in it. My eyes are puffy from crying last night and I want to hug that sad girl I see in the reflection, but also I want to remind her that she’s a terrible fake fiancée. I’m sure if I had a ring, now would be the time for Levi to demand it back.

I trot to the front of the store, turn the sign from closed to open and unlock the door, then flip on all of the lights to show that we’re ready for business. I don’t make it back to the counter before the bell dings behind me, signaling a customer has entered the premises.

I turn around only to find someone who resembles Levi standing in front of me.

“Oh.” I gasp, pointing to his eyes and the swelling around his face. “What happened?”

“The cat,” he says, pointing to my eyes. “What’s your excuse?”

“My stupidity?” I say, shrugging and making him laugh. Just a little.

He looks around the store, his gaze landing back on me. “Can we talk, like outside for a minute?”

“Sure.” I reach across the counter and grab my keys. It’s a Saturday, so weekend shoppers come in closer to eleven, at least in my experience. I can afford to close the store for a little bit. Seeing as it’s for Levi, I really don’t mind. “You wanna lead?”

We walk down the street in silence, two Moon Pie-faced residents looking like we got into a fight with a swarm of bees. Spoiler alert: it looks like the bees won. We pass by Mr. Altman, who raises a hand in greeting only to have it float to his mouth in an attempt to cover his shock at the sight of us. I still wave. Me and my puffy-faced man.

At least we have each other. For now, anyway.

Levi beckons down a side path, maneuvering us into a small park off 2nd Street. He sits on a small wrought-iron bench at the back of the park, patting the seat beside him. “Join me?”

I do as he asks, keeping my hands on my knees and looking at the ground. I don’t know where to begin, so I wait for him to speak.

The sound of the birds around us pulls me in, their tunes repetitive and familiar, making me feel somewhat at peace. The small park is full of leafy mature trees and quite shady, a great spot to sit as the sun rises to take on the day. You can feel a little heat in the air, but not a lot yet. There’s still time in the day for the temperatures to go up.

Beside me, Levi clears his throat. “Things have escalated. Lorna’s managed to get the case moved up on the docket and we’re in court on Monday now.”

“What?” My mouth hangs open. I’m sick. “It’s my fault, Levi. I am so sorry.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” he says. “This is my fault. I should never have asked you to pretend to be anything with me.”

I’m not sure what I’m hearing. I think he’s saying that he wishes he could take the pretend part of this back, but I’m not sure. Doesn’t matter. I want to scream.

“I got carried away. I started screwing around with that stupid registry. It was the temptation of all of those free and amazing things.” I sit back against the bench and set my mouth in a straight line. “I got way into it. I picked out all kinds of presents for our fake guests to get us when they come to our fake wedding. And I was so close to picking out our invitations…”

Levi spins to face me. “You what now?”

“Not really,” I say, half-laughing, half not. “Well, the part about the invitations, that’s a joke. I joke when I’m feeling uncomfortable. The part about the registry is the truth. But hey, there’s a bright side.”

“What’s that?”

“We don’t need to be engaged anymore.” The reality of what that means hits me, and I have to admit, my heart feels like it just got sucker punched. “You don’t need me now.”

“But that’s the thing, Georgie. I do.” Levi angles his body so he can take my hands in his. “I used a fake engagement as an excuse to get closer to you. In truth, I’ve been falling in love with you since day one and I kind of manipulated the situation to my advantage.”

Now, that was a mouthful I wasn’t ready for.

A tiny smile begins to tug at the corners of my lips. It’s like there’s an invisible string attached to the ends of my mouth and it’s pulling them up, up, up like balloons rising to the sky.

Did Levi Porter just admit he’s in love with me?

“You’re falling for me?” I spit the words out like a bad taste, but I don’t mean to. I’m in shock. Good shock, like the kind I know I’ll be resuscitated from, but shock nonetheless.

Levi’s look is serious, though. “I am, but I need to know that you’re in this with me.”

“In this?” I query.

“This. Whatever this next chapter is.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me against him, using his other hand to push a few strands of hair away from my face as he kisses the tip of my nose. “I want you to be around for all of it.”

I. Am. Done.

I nod my head, the tip of my nose rubbing against his as I kiss his lips once, twice, three times for good measure. Or maybe it’s for luck. Either way, I got to kiss him three times in a row.

“I do, too,” I whisper, keeping my lips hovering over his as he slants his mouth across mine and pulls me in. This kiss isn’t like the others we’ve had. They were good kisses. First kisses, the kind you start with as you’re figuring each other out. This kiss? It’s the kind of kiss that says there’s more going on here. There’s cupcakes, rainbows, and a confetti parade with this kiss. It’s a kiss that tells my heart it’s fine to kick back and enjoy the ride now.

It’s also the kiss that says, “Stick around kid, there’s more to come.” And I’m here for it. It’s the kiss throwing hints that this isn’t temporary. It’s for real. For more than just now, it’s forever.

We slow down, with me pulling away first so I can catch my breath. His fingertips dance up and down my spine as he caresses my back. I could stay like this forever if he asked me to.

“So, about this registry,” he starts, and I close my eyes. No, I shut them tight. “Did we get anything good, or do we have to take it all back?”

“Well, Adidas sent us an unsolicited chenille throw this morning. Someone knew to send it to the bookstore, which is a phenomenon I’ll never figure out.” Chuckling, I lean against him, letting my head rest on his shoulder. “There’s also this giant metal ostrich that I’m becoming fond of, but I’ve already spoken to Mr. Altman. Everything will go back to the store this weekend. I may have lied and told him Bex did it as a joke.”

Levi throws his head back and laughs, pulling me in close to his chest and holding me tight. “You honestly make me laugh like no one has before. I cannot believe you managed to actually register for our wedding…”

“Well, I’m calling it off now,” I say, giggling as I stand. I hold my hand out for him. “I do need to get back to the store to open it for the day, though. Walk me back?”

Levi’s eyes rock to my hand before he takes it, his fingers threading through mine. We walk in silence, two people who are both going down their own paths in life and somehow, some way managed to find a spot where these paths cross.

“Do you want me to go with you Monday?” I ask. “To court?”

He nods. “I’m nervous.”

Squeezing his hand, I try to jolt him back to the present. “Don’t be. You’re good for Duncan.”

I don’t have to be facing him to know that those dark blue eyes of his are swirling with worry. His silence tells me all I need to know. As we make our way back down 2nd Street and turn back onto Magnolia Lane, all I can think is that I want to help. I want to help fix the blunder that has opened up this whole Pandora’s Box.

But the only thing I can think of to do could also be the one thing that could break this whole situation. It could actually cause more chaos and anger, if it’s not done correctly.

The more I think about it, the more I see a light. A path to fixing this in a more organic way. But it’s a risk. I could lose everything, including Levi, if it doesn’t go as planned.

It kind of begs the question: How much is all of this worth to me?