4. Catherine
Chapter four
Catherine
The smirk on his face makes my heart beat faster. It’s the same reaction I had to him before that disastrous first kiss.
“What do you say, Cat? Want to pretend like we’re getting married?”
“No,” I say automatically.
Because of course, I don’t want to do that!
Of course, I don’t want to parade around on George Callahan’s arm.
It won’t solve anything.
People will still think I’m having an affair with Crimson, only it will be worse now because they’ll say I’m cheating on my fiancé.
So no.
I won’t play this game with him.
And I say, “No” very, very firmly.
Only… I don’t.
I hear my own voice before my brain catches up with what I’m doing. “Yes. Let’s pretend to be engaged.”
Ummmm, what?
Excuse me?
Who gave me permission to speak?
But George’s smile grows even bigger. His eyes sparkle in a mischievous, sexy way that leaves me unable to take back what I just said.
I hold up a finger to stop him before he can speak. “First things first. We need to tell Grandma about this scheme. She’ll figure us out anyway.”
“Agreed,” Geroge says, grimacing. He lets out a single laugh. “Oh, I can only imagine how she’s going to react.”
Oh, that’s right! I sigh in relief as I take my leave. If anyone will put an end to this insanity without me having to admit that I’m insane for accepting it in the first place, it’s Grandma.
As soon as she tells us that we can’t do it, I’ll be home free.
***
“That’s quite the stupid idea you’ve come up with there, George,” Grandma says.
She swings gently back and forth on the front porch, a glass of lemonade in her hand. Her eyes twinkle as she smirks.
Good. Now’s when she’ll say she’ll have no part of it and—
“But I’ll play along.” She waves her hand. “Sandburrow has fallen into a rather large rut lately. The drama of a fake engagement will be just the thing to bring us out of it.”
George laughs and kisses her cheek. “I knew I could count on you.”
I don’t know what’s more insane, the fact that Grandma is going along with this… or the fact that I’m not actually disappointed?
A surge of affection sweeps through me. Even though she recognizes that it’s a stupid idea, she’s doing this for us.
If nothing else, it gives me something other than Crimson to think about.
“If you’re going to pull this off, you need to know what you’re going to tell everyone,” Grandma says. She gets a faraway look. “You’ll have to tell everyone how you reconnected, how long you’ve been dating, and all that.”
“Right,” George agrees.
He turns to me and nods toward the door. “You want to go for a walk along the beach so we can figure this out?”’
I hesitate but nod.
I’ve already agreed. It feels too late to back out now and admit that I don’t know what I’m doing.
Grandma smiles, looking pleased with herself. I chew my lip as I head down from the house next to George.
The sun blazes overhead, blinding me off the water. I squint at the hot sand that sucks my shoes into it.
“Ugh, I’m going to lose my feet,” I groan as sand gets into my shoes.
I kick them off and hurry, wincing, to the edge of the water. The ocean is cool against my hot feet. I walk in the lapping waves, sighing.
“Better?” George asks.
He’s taken his shoes off, too. His shirt sleeves are rolled to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms.
The sun suddenly feels much hotter. I gulp and wade out to my knees, ignoring the way the water soaks through my pants.
George stays ankle-deep.
“Last Christmas,” I say. “When I came to Sandburrow to be with my grandma. You came over regularly to help out with things. We can say that’s when we reconnected.”
“And you came back so we can start wedding planning,” George says. “The timing of the rumors is a complete coincidence.”
Relief washes over me. He gets it. Yes, that is the best way to address this. Act as though the rumors aren’t even of note to us.
“There’s just one thing,” George says as we come to the series of rocks that form the tidal pools.
“What?” I climb over the first rock and gaze into the pool. The little creatures inside scramble around.
A sand dollar swims from one side to the other.
“I need to know the real reason for you coming to Sandburrow,” he says.
I wince and jump off the rock. “No, you don’t. That’s personal.”
George sits on the rock and folds his arm. He frowns at me, as though thinking deeply.
I avoid his eye, instead turning toward the ocean. The sun dips behind a cloud, dimming the blinding light.
Looking out at the waves that continually roll toward the shore, I can’t help but think it’s a metaphor.
It seems like I’ve been working forever in my career. Always adding more work, never letting myself rest.
Now I’m like a wave breaking against the shore. I’ve hit an unmovable object and now I’m left slowly ebbing away, to where I don’t know.
It’s so morose that it makes me snicker.
“Something’s funny?” George asks.
I turn to him. “I am. Or rather, I’m dramatic. But you don’t need to know the real reason I’m here, other than it’s because of the rumors. I’m trying to lay low until everything blows over. Now. Where should the wedding be? I think just on the beach next to Grandma’s place.”
“Small and intimate,” George agrees. “Family and friends only.”
“Your parents and my grandmother only,” I argue.
George frowns. “You don’t want your mother or sister to attend?”
Mentioning them makes me wince. “Your parents. My grandmother. We can have a barbeque on the beach after for a wider group.”
“Alright. I can agree to that. But I think we’re waiting until we have a house we can move into before we’re getting married.”
I grimace. “And where is this?”
“There’s a place nearby for sale.”
“I’m not living in Sandburrow. I can’t even pretend,” I groan, shaking my head. “We’re getting a place in the city.”
“I have no job in the city.”
I fold my arms. “Okay. How about this. We’re getting two places. One here in town, one in the city. That way, we can both be close to our work.”
George nods slowly. “That gives us more time. We’ll say that I’m buying a place here, and you’re paying for a house in the city.”
“Apartment. We don’t have time for the maintenance of a whole other house, and apartments are easier to rent out when we start having kids,” I say absently.
George raises both his eyebrows. “Oh? And when are we going to start having kids?”
I flush. “Um…”
“How about two years?
“That’s way too soon!” I object. “I still have my career and—and this isn’t real.”
George’s eyes twinkle. “That’s right. It’s not real. We’ll play the engagement for a few months, as long as it needs to go, and then we’ll have a breakup. We’ll keep it classy. Just say that we realized that we’re not in the right place for marriage or something.”
I climb onto the rock and sit with my feet dangling in the tidal pool.
Even though it’s a turbulent time of life, the smell of the sea and the repetitive rush of water is calming.
I have to admit, even if Sandburrow was the backdrop of my most angsty teenage drama… it’s peaceful.
Sometimes peace might feel boring.
Right now, it seems exactly what I need.
It’s been quite a while since I enjoyed a slower pace. With my work, I’m always having to race for the next thing. Trends to keep up with, futures to predict. Always a mountain of work that needs to be done.
But right now, it feels like that lazy, easy feeling right when you wake up. Before the responsibilities of the day start to make themselves known.
“Before we get any further, you should know about my parents,” George says, breaking me from my thoughts.
I give him a small smile. “I know your parents.”
“They can be difficult to deal with.”
“If I can handle my mother, I can handle your parents.”
He grimaces. “They have a very difficult time with boundaries. My mom is constantly rearranging my things or replacing stuff I buy. My dad has no filter and insists he’s always right.”
“Ahh. I see. So you’re concerned I won’t be able to handle them?”
“I’m concerned that they’ll bombard you with inappropriate questions and bulldoze any boundaries you try to put into place,” he answers.
“Then it’s a good thing we’re playing this fake engagement. Sounds like you need a few lessons in raising your parents,” I joke.
“Maybe. First, I think you should meet them again now that we’re both adults. We could have dinner together,” he suggests. “They’ll never forgive me if I let anyone else find out that we’re engaged before they do.”
My stomach knots.
Meeting the parents, huh?
I remember Edwina and Jason Callahan. In my memories, Jason has a booming voice that sounds hoarse from shouting even when he’s telling jokes. And Edwina is telling me that I shouldn’t act like such a hooligan.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I say quickly. “I forgot that your parents are… your parents.”
A crease forms on George’s brow. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean I’d like to have some time to talk to them again in a more informal setting. Besides, I should have an engagement ring first.”
“Are you scared of my parents?” George asks. “I thought you said you could handle them.”
My cheeks grow warm. “I can handle them! I just want a bit more time for us to figure out this engagement story. Also, if I’m going to act like a buffer between you and your parents, I should get a read on them first.”
“Good point.” George runs a hand through his hair.
The sunlight highlights his freckles.
“I think I have an old ring that I picked up off the beach when we were kids,” he says. “Let’s use that as an engagement ring.”
“Um, no?” I fold my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’m going to have a titanium band with a lab-grown starburst diamond, with two smaller sapphires on either side. And inside is an inscription. Let’s go with ‘forever strong’ or some such thing.”
George laughs. “Oh, I see! You’ve got it all planned out, don’t you? You’re just after my money.”
I can’t help it.
I scoff.
The idea that I’d be after George’s money is ridiculous. Not only have I built myself a successful career, but he’s stayed in Sandburrow of all places!
George frowns at me. “What’s that about?”
“Nothing!” I say quickly.
“Nothing,” he repeats. His frown deepens. “I see. Well, you can’t go around laughing at the townspeople who tell you about how well I’ve done for myself. So here.”’
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a battered business card.
I take it and glance over it, then freeze.
“You can look me up on your own time,” he says as he stands.
But he doesn’t have to.
“You own Call a Hand?” I yelp, stumbling to my feet. I trip over myself, and George grabs my wrist, stabilizing me.
“Whoa! And yes, I do. You’ve heard it?”
I stare at George, shock rippling through me. “Heard of it? You built Crimson’s house! You built… so many houses!”
“Not me personally,” George answers. His eyes are twinkling again.
That’s the great thing about him. Even after insulting him, he’s easy-going about everything.
“Holy cow,” I breathe, stuffing his business card into my pocket. “I guess this seals it, huh?”
“Seals what?”
“I really am after your money!”
George bursts into laughter. He offers me his arm, and I hesitantly loop mine through his. We head back up to the beach.
My head is all awhirl. Here I thought that I was successful because I left Sandburrow.
I thought George was unsuccessful because he never did.
I was wrong.
So very, very wrong.
What else am I wrong about?