The Fiance Dilemma (The Long Game #2)

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

When Matthew came to, he did so with a startled gasp.

I pushed a mug in his direction and forced myself to give him my warmest, most welcoming smile.

He blinked at me.

My lips fell. “Please drink this? I’ll be right back. I’m a fast changer, and Grandpa Moe will keep an eye on you.”

I couldn’t blame Matthew for his confusion or reluctance to accept the mug. I couldn’t blame Grandpa Moe for the complaint that left him either. But beggars couldn’t be choosers, so the moment the tea was in Matthew’s hand, I whirled around and sprinted upstairs. And the second I closed the door to my bedroom, I sank to the ground.

My eyes closed, shoulders resting against the wooden surface.

All the air in my lungs left me in a hissed, “Shit.”

No, I corrected myself. This wasn’t a shit situation. It was a truckload of cow dung clogging all five of your senses kind of situation.

Because tonight… had been a lot. There were comedy sketches less far-fetched than what had gone down. Grandpa Moe screaming like a wolf had just sneaked into the coop and slaughtered half his chickens had only been the cherry on top. I still wondered how I’d managed to keep cool when Matthew had plummeted to the ground. How we—and yes, I was bringing the old man with me on this—had made a six-foot-something adult man collapse. Just like it happened to my clay when it didn’t hold its shape. One second he was there, strong and solid and seemingly safe between my hands, and the next turn of the wheel he was smudged all over the floor.

Only, Matthew wasn’t clay. Or a project I could mold into the shape I wanted. He was my sister’s best friend. A person with a life, who I’d pulled into my mess. This wasn’t something I could fix by stiffening him with a blow-dryer, as much as I wished I could. Actually, forget that. I shouldn’t even be thinking of stiffening or blowing Matthew dry.

I reopened my eyes, stood back up, straightened my back, and refocused on my task. Change. Not digress. So I slipped into my en suite to clean the algae mask off my face, making a mental note to throw the rest of the can away. It had bad juju, I decided. Once that was off, I scrubbed at my hands, put a Band-Aid over the cut on my palm, and slipped into the first thing I found lying around. Leggings, tank top, and a cardigan. Brushing my hair with my hands only once I was trotting my way downstairs.

“Is the tea okay?” I asked, not even completely through the kitchen threshold.

The man sitting on my pink easy chair remained silent, his eyes meeting mine as I came to a stop in front of him.

“It’s chamomile,” I commented to fill in the silence. “My mom used to prepare it for me when I felt sick or I had a bad day. I figured you’d had one of those. So I thought it’d help. Comfort you. It makes me feel like new.”

Matthew seemed to ponder his answer before giving me a curt, “Thanks.”

It wasn’t exactly reassuring, but at least the color had returned to his face. It was a nice face, now that I could see it under proper lighting. Square jaw, straight nose, full lips, and brown eyes hiding behind glasses. I’d cleaned them up for him during the couple minutes he’d been out of it. They’d been a little stained from the rain and it was the least I could do, all things considered. I… liked them. His glasses. I’d never seen him wear them in pictures. Or whenever Adalyn had FaceTimed him and I’d been around to steal a glance or exchange a hello.

They made him look… different. More… I didn’t know. I supposed that hardly mattered anyway.

“Your hand okay?” Matthew asked in a deep, raspy voice.

“Yes,” I admitted, relieved at the fact he was talking. I grabbed a stool and placed it in front of him before plopping down on it. “It was nothing. Just a tiny cut,” I lied. It hadn’t been that tiny.

“You were bleeding, Josie.”

“I was, yup. But let’s not talk about that. I’m okay, and I’d hate for you to… go all ghoulish again.”

“It’s fine,” he commented, dragging the mug to his mouth. “I can’t remember the last time that happened. I think being caught in the rain didn’t help matters, and my body just gave out for a moment there.” His hands lowered the tea to his lap. Brown eyes roamed across my face, then down, taking me in slowly, or lazily, or maybe tiredly, before returning back to mine. “You really are a quick changer.”

“It’s one of my superpowers,” I said with a chuckle. But it was short-lived. I hadn’t been the only one in need of a change of clothes and I hated the reminder. I eyed the damp jeans and even damper sweater on him. “We took off your leather jacket when we moved you inside. You muttered something under your breath, and I supposed it was about that.” There was a new, awkward beat of silence. “It’s going to take some miracle to bring it back to life. Sorry. Probably your boots, too, if I’m being honest. I didn’t take those off you, but I wanted to. Ideally, I should have removed every item of clothing off you. But Grandpa Moe didn’t let me.”

Matthew’s eyebrows rose.

“I obviously mean it in a practical, medical way,” I explained. “Not in a let’s strip you to your underwear kind of way.”

The corner of his mouth tipped up.

“I wouldn’t undress an unconscious man,” I assured him. “Not unless I was sure his life depended on being, you know, naked. And yours didn’t. You were mumbling stuff. So you were mostly fine. And it would have been really awkward to carry you inside naked.”

Matthew’s lips fell flat.

“Don’t worry.” I gave him a big smile. “Grandpa and I cart heavy stuff around on the regular. Well, mostly me, because I don’t really let him do that anymore. Although I’m starting to believe those Pilates classes I’ve been taking are not toning my muscles as much as I was promised. Maybe I should have gone with my gut and given Krav Maga a try.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Oh. Want to hear something funny?”

His only answer was a strange look.

“Adalyn also fainted the day she arrived in town last year,” I told him anyway. “Under different circumstances, of course. Although I’m pretty sure you know all about that already. But hey, isn’t that a fun coincidence? The two of you just losing consciousness the moment you step foot in Green Oak?”

Based on the way Matthew continued to look at me, I didn’t think he found it exactly funny. In fact, I noticed he hadn’t said a word in a little bit, and I’d arguably said too many of them.

“I tend to ramble when I’m nervous,” I muttered. “So it would be nice if you said something. Just, anything, really.”

“You’re not what I expected.” He huffed out a laugh. It was short. A little tired. But it was one, so I’d take it. “And at the same time, you are.”

A small smile bent my lips. A genuine one, for a change, tonight. Even if I had no idea what Matthew meant by that.

“He doesn’t deserve that,” Grandpa Moe grunted, suddenly there beside us. He dropped a plate on Matthew’s lap. “He hasn’t earned a smile.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I believe he has earned more than a smile after tonight. Plus, I’ll give my smiles to whoever I want to, Moe Poe.”

Grandpa Moe ignored that, pointing a finger at Matthew. “Grilled cheese. Eat. You were looking like some stale leek a few minutes ago. Something tells me you’ve skipped a meal today. So eat.”

“Grandpa means well,” I told the blond man crowding my favorite chair in the house. Mathew chewed diligently. “And I promise he’ll stop calling you silly names. I don’t know what’s gotten into him tonight. He’s being extra grumpy.”

“I won’t stop calling him nothing,” Grandpa countered. “And I don’t mean well. I want him healthy and strong for selfish reasons. I still don’t know if I’ll have to whoop his ass.”

I scoffed at the old man before turning back to Matthew. “He doesn’t mean that.”

“I do,” Grandpa Moe insisted, taking the plate off Matthew’s hands just as he gobbled the last bite down. “That was fast. Still hungry?”

“No, sir,” Matthew answered, passing his mouthful down. “But thank you, sir.”

I snorted at the two sirs. “You can call him Grandpa Moe, just like everyone else in town does. Or at the very least Moe. There’s no need for formalities, I promise—”

“My name is Maurice,” Grandpa Moe interjected. “And how about he keeps calling me sir until I decide what to do with him? This is my home and he’s not a guest.”

I turned to look at my suspenders-wearing roommate. “Your home? You’re lucky I like you, or else I’d be kicking your butt and shipping you to Fairhill’s nursing home, Mr. Nursing Homes Make Me Feel Ancient.” Grandpa gasped, even though he knew I didn’t mean it. He wasn’t getting rid of me that easily. Not after his stroke, even if he had made a good recovery. I shifted my focus back to Matthew. “I’m so sorry, I—”

“He’s right,” he said, the light brown in his eyes shining with a reassurance I probably didn’t deserve. “He just met me and he’s your grandfather. I did skip lunch today. And dinner, seeing the time. That wasn’t smart, and I’m sure it had something to do with me going down like that. So thanks for the food and the tea and for taking that wet jacket off me and dragging my ass here. Thank you for not stripping me down to my underwear, too. As comfortable as I am naked, you’re right, it’d make everything twice as awkward.”

Twice as awkward. I’d used the word myself, but it bothered me that it was his choice to describe this too.

Grandpa Moe grumbled something unintelligible before turning around and shuffling back to the stove, where I knew he’d be preparing more food for Matthew. He really was more bark than bite.

“Grandpa Moe is not really my grandfather,” I felt the need to say. “I…” Thought this was something Adalyn might have told Matthew. “I don’t think it hurts that I clarify it. Grandpa lives—used to live next door. Right beside Otto Higgings. Not sure if you remember him—”

“I do,” Matthew said. “Nosy, wilted prune.”

I nodded with a light chuckle. “Grandpa would help around the house when I was little. Apparently, one day I decided that he was my Grandpa Moe, and not just Moe, and wouldn’t call him anything else. It stuck, and somehow all of Green Oak calls him that now.” I summoned a small smile. “So please, do that too. I promise he won’t mind.”

Matthew’s eyes took me in for a few seconds. Contemplating. Then he leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice. “I think I’d like to be on the safe side and keep my balls intact,” he said with a wink.

A wink.

The curve of my lips turned genuine. Happy, even. This was a lot more like the Matthew I’d heard about. The Matthew I’d expected. From everything Adalyn had said about her best friend, but also from the interactions we’d had. A while ago, Adalyn had added both of us to a group chat with her and Cameron, her boyfriend and my friend, and it was impossible not to form an idea of Matthew based on his texts. Funny, clever, often playful, brutally honest. Matthew typed the most outrageous things, and I’d found myself laughing out loud reading his messages more than once.

Which reminded me of the last conversation we’d had on there. “So…” I trailed off, tugging at the sleeves of my cardigan. “How was the trip?”

He sighed. “Long. Tedious. Necessary.”

“Well, Chicago is not exactly around the corner,” I commented. “I knew you were coming, but I didn’t know you were getting here tonight.”

His shoulders dropped, and he let his whole body fall back on the seat. “My lease wasn’t up until Monday, but I couldn’t sleep one more night surrounded by boxes.”

“You’re staying at the lodge, right?” I continued. It was vacant now that Adalyn and Cameron had found a home closer to Charlotte, and the soccer youth club they had founded and now dedicated all their time to. “Lazy Elk is great. You’ll love it there, I promise. It’s super cozy, stylish, and has the best views in town.”

It made it twice as hard for Adalyn and Cameron to leave Green Oak. Maybe that was why they hadn’t rented it out yet. Maybe a part of them didn’t want to fully let go. Or maybe they just thought it would be good to keep it vacant in case someone visited. Or needed it, like Matthew did. Neither my sister nor Cameron required the extra income from a potential lease anyway. Perks of being a hardworking boss lady and a retired professional soccer player.

“I’ve heard,” Matthew said. “Adalyn warned me it was shockingly hard to find, too, but I wasn’t expecting my maps app to keep rerouting me for a whole hour. I still don’t understand how I ended up on some dirt road and drove right into a pothole.”

“So that’s what happened?” I felt my brows knot with concern. I knew I had no right to lecture him—especially not tonight—but… “You should have stayed in the car, Matthew. You shouldn’t venture out into a storm. And please, do not ever wander into the woods. In fact, next time just call—” I stopped myself. I’d been about to say me. “Just call someone. Help. A tow.”

His eyes did a strange swipe over my face, as if surprised by my reaction. Then a light roll of laughter left him. “Battery was out after all that rerouting. I know how much of a cliché that is. But my Prius doesn’t have a USB port, and I was supposed to be a mile away from the lodge. I didn’t think I’d be soaking wet within a few minutes and get lost. By the time I realized my mistake, I just hoped the lodge was closer than the car.”

I frowned at him. I didn’t want to say it, but… “You’re such a man.”

He snorted. “Fair assessment. But you’re right. It was dumb and I… It’s been a long day, Josie. A long fucking week, if I’m honest.”

My stomach dropped at his words. The reason why he probably said that, besides his unfortunate arrival into town.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t imagine how incredibly hard that has been. Adalyn told me what happened with your job. And I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair, I’m sure, and it sucks that you were laid off like that. I’m just—sorry.”

Matthew stiffened with every word that left my mouth. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

But there was. Because he’d been fired, and he’d had to leave Chicago, and was moving—temporarily, according to Adalyn—into Lazy Elk, and… tonight had happened.

We stayed like that, looking at each other in not an uncomfortable silence, but still not an easy one either. A plate clattered behind us, and I wondered whether I should excuse myself and go help Grandpa, whether I should continue to make small talk with Matthew, or whether I should address the topic I’d been avoiding.

Matthew’s head must have been in the same place, because I watched his gaze dip, falling on my lap, where my hands were clasped.

“I’m not really engaged,” I finally said, showing him the back of my left hand. I had a Band-Aid over the cut on my palm, but I still made sure to keep that facing me. Just in case. “Not to you, obviously. Not to anyone else, either. Not now, at least.”

“So I didn’t imagine all of that, huh?” His expression turned pensive. “I kind of hoped I had.”

That stung a little.

But I couldn’t say I didn’t deserve it. I made myself smile. “You didn’t. Every bizarre event you remember happened.” I glanced down, bringing my hands back to my lap. “The ring is from a previous relationship and it’s… stuck. I tried to lubricate my skin with jam, which wasn’t the smartest idea. But soap wasn’t working, and I didn’t want to wait around for butter to melt.” I shook my head. “So strawberry jam seemed like a good, sensible option.”

Matthew was quiet again, enough to make me look back at him. His expression was now blank. As if he was trying to keep whatever he thought of me off his face.

So I continued. “Bobbi Shark was also real, I’m afraid. She, ah. Well. She was the reason I went into full panic mode, if you want to call it that. She… works for Andrew, my father. And her showing up caught me off guard. And before I could process that, she was rattling off all these things about me, and a PR crisis, and moving to Miami and… suddenly she was talking about the ring, and you were there, and I wanted her gone, and I really didn’t want to move to Miami, so I—I didn’t think. I acted.”

Silence followed my very poor account of the facts.

I grew even more restless. “I know how hard that is to believe but—”

“No,” he interjected. “It was clear that Bobbi was a threat from where I was standing.”

A gulp of air escaped my lips. So he understood, then. Kind of. “I wouldn’t call her a threat,” I said with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. It was a real one, too. “But she’s a little scary. Enough for me to see you and think, or hope, really, that you would help. I am your best friend’s sister, anyway, so it’s not like I was asking a complete stranger—”

“I didn’t know.”

My brow burrowed.

“I didn’t know,” he repeated. “I was trying to help, you’re right.” He rubbed the side of his neck with his hand. His voice went down. “But I didn’t know it was you, Josie.”

My smile faltered.

I didn’t know it was you, Josie.

“That’s all right,” I croaked with a wave of my hand. Surely, I couldn’t be hurt by that. I was being ridiculous and the sinking in my stomach meant nothing. “It took me all of three seconds to know it was you,” I continued, watching his face fall. “Which is okay. It really is. I’m just really good with faces. Plus there was all the…” I pointed at myself. “You know. Algae extract and jam situation going on. So I wouldn’t expect you to spot me in the distance, with only a streetlamp around, and be like, hey, that’s Josie Moore right there. We don’t even know each other that well. I mean, who does that?”

Me, that was who.

But that didn’t matter now.

Matthew hesitated, as if at a loss, but then he said, “I’m sorry.”

I let out a snort. “What for? There’s nothing to be sorry about.” I blinked at the new emotion entering his face and decided it was time. Now. Time to stop tiptoeing around this thing. I inhaled. Exhaled. Then said, “Ithinkweshouldjustdoit.”

Matthew frowned.

“We should finish what we started and pretend it’s you,” I explained, lifting my hand. “The one who put this on my finger.”

Matthew’s mouth hung open for an instant. Then he said, “What?”

“Let’s pretend we’re engaged,” I told him, my skin heating under the cardigan. “Just like we did at the porch. Bobbi bought it. She thought it was real. Real enough to leave. Which was the goal. She said it would fix the problem. The PR crisis that I was telling you about? I can get into the details, but your face is doing a really weird thing.” It wasn’t moving. Not a muscle in his body was. “Are you going to faint again?”

“No.”

“Good. Great.” I smiled a little, relieved. “So—”

“No,” he repeated. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “No.”

“No?” I asked. “Those are a lot of nos and I only asked one question.”

A strange sound left his throat. “We’re not doing anything. We’re not—” He stopped himself. “We’re not pretending we’re engaged. No.” His back straightened, face serious. “Absolutely not, sweetheart.”

I frowned. “Sweetheart?”

He shot me a look.

“But—”

“No,” he said a fourth time. His voice softened. “I can’t do it.”

I squared my shoulders too. “We could talk about it. Discuss. Do a pros and cons list. Whatever you need to—”

“I can’t,” he interjected.

My shoulders sunk. “You can’t or you won’t?”

“Does it matter? Point is: what you’re suggesting is crazy. Tonight was a fun anecdote I’m sure will make Cam and Adalyn holler with laughter. But we’re not…” His throat worked. “Playing engaged. I’ve just gotten here.”

That quick, albeit sharp, pang of hurt returned. “It’d be for a little while, I’m sure. Just to weather the storm. She only mentioned a splashy announcement. So we could hear Bobbi out and then, we reassess.”

He laughed again but it was dark. Humorless. Bitter. “Do you realize how crazy this thing you’re suggesting is? How ludicrous?”

Now that actually stung. “Well, from every single story Adalyn has told me about you, it wouldn’t be the craziest thing you’ve done. You’re pretty ludicrous yourself, you know that?”

Matthew didn’t seem bothered by the accusation. “Well, this is not a college party where you’re daring me to stroll naked down campus, sweetheart. This is marriage. A wedding. The ring of some man on your finger.”

Again with the nakedness. And the sweetheart. “It’s not marriage. It’s an engagement,” I corrected. “And it’s fake. We’re not getting married-married.”

Matthew’s mouth bent in a… disbelieving smile. It wasn’t a nice smile, and I didn’t think he realized the face he was making at me. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. I… can’t even think straight.” He stood up, and I had to tip my head back to look at him. “I should probably get to the lodge. I—”

A truck-like sound filled the kitchen, bringing Matthew’s words to a stop.

We both turned toward the source, finding Grandpa Moe sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away. His head dangled back, mouth wide open, a tower of grilled sandwiches on a plate in front of him. He was snoring.

Cranky, sweet old man. He must have been exhausted from all that yelling.

I turned to study Matthew’s profile as he stared at Grandpa. My hand reached out before I could stop it. Matthew’s eyes plunged downward, landing on my fingers as they wrapped around his forearm. His clothes were still so damp.

“Stay,” I told him. “You can have more food. Grab a shower and borrow some dry clothes. Then crash on the couch. It’s comfortable and it’s late. I’d feel a little better if you stayed the night. Grandpa will too.”

Matthew hesitated, brown eyes still fastened around my hand. It was my left, I realized. He was probably inspecting Ricky’s ring, thinking how crazy and ludicrous I was. “All right,” he finally said.

I released him and stood up, the tip of my nose almost brushing his throat with the motion. Warmth rose to my cheeks as I stepped aside. “I’ll get some blankets and a towel for you. You can get started on the sandwiches if you want.”

Then I whirled on my heels, deciding that what I felt in my gut wasn’t rejection.

Matthew couldn’t reject someone he didn’t have.

It was just guilt. And disappointment. And exhaustion. Matthew was probably right. I was a little crazy, and my plans always were a little ludicrous.

And we couldn’t do this.

An engagement wasn’t a quick patch over a flat tire. It wasn’t something you faked for the sake of a narrative, or for a relationship with a parent that I didn’t even know how to navigate. It was a commitment. A promise.

A walk down the aisle.

Although that had never been the case for me.