Chapter 5 #2
I already had no idea how I was going to repay Frasier. Yes, he’d offered to go. And a free vacation to Anguilla wasn’t exactly a hardship, but he didn’t get much downtime. And he was giving up some of his very rare free time to do this for me.
He might be happy to accompany me to my sister’s wedding, but he’d offered to go as my plus-one, not my fake boyfriend.
I sighed. I didn’t think Frasier would be upset about what I’d done, but it was embarrassing.
Not the idea of dating Frasier—anyone would be lucky to have a man like him in their life.
But the fact that my sister’s comments had gotten under my skin to the point that I’d responded in such a juvenile way.
I was acting like I was in middle school. Like the time Jimmy Randall had teased me about my breasts being the size of mosquito bites. I’d been so mad and mortified, and I’d shot back that my boyfriend in Canada liked them just fine. And then, like now, I hadn’t had a boyfriend.
I sighed. I was secretly hoping no one—besides Allie, of course—would ever find out that Frasier and I were “dating.” Maybe that was wishful thinking, but I was rolling with it—for now.
“Want some help?” I asked Frasier, needing to dispel some of my nervous energy.
“No, but I’d love some company. Unless you have things you need to do.”
I shook my head. I was almost done packing. Most of the stuff I had left were things that I couldn’t pack until the day of. So, I sank down on the floor into a cross-legged position. Bacon and Biscuit settled down, one on either side of me.
I stroked Biscuit’s fur as a sense of peace and contentment washed over me. This was my happy place—relaxing at home with Frasier and our fur babies. We’d gone to the shelter to find a four-legged friend, and we’d ended up with two.
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” I asked.
“Whatever’s easiest for you. I’m sure you don’t have a ton of groceries since we’re about to go out of town.”
“Actually, Maggie sent me a new recipe I can’t wait to try. And I already have almost everything we need.”
“Sounds good to me,” Frasier said. “You know I’m not picky, and I always appreciate your home-cooked meals.”
Frasier finished assembling part of the unit, sliding it into place with a satisfied expression.
It always impressed me—his ability to acquire new skills. His willingness to learn anything and everything. I wondered if it stemmed from his childhood and the fact that his family had owned a fertilizer and farm equipment business back in Canada. Or maybe it was just who he was.
He’d worked construction jobs during the summers in college. It was sexy that he knew how to work with his hands. That he wasn’t afraid to get dirty.
Derek had always hired someone to take care of things, but Frasier was intent on working them out for himself.
Neither option was wrong. It was always good to hire someone more experienced, especially if you knew that you were out of your depth.
But I loved that Frasier pushed himself to see what he was capable of.
“Maybe you should buy a fixer-upper,” I said. “Since you like projects so much.”
Frasier’s condo was nice, but it wasn’t what I considered his style. It was modern, slick. It didn’t need any work, and it didn’t feel like a home.
“Maybe someday.”
I wondered what he was waiting for. He certainly had the money to buy a nice house, but maybe he didn’t want to commit to a mortgage until he’d met the person he wanted to share a home with.
“Waiting for Ms. Right?” I teased.
“Something like that.” He kept his attention on the instruction manual, his tone disinterested.
I tried to imagine the type of woman Frasier would end up with. She’d have to be understanding of his schedule, something that had been an issue with girlfriends in the past. She’d have to love hockey and dogs. And she’d have to be okay with the fact that we were so close.
Though, obviously, things would have to change once he was in a relationship. I couldn’t imagine any girlfriend being pleased about the idea of him spending so much time with another woman, even if we were just friends. The idea of my relationship with Frasier changing made me sad.
I sighed, knowing it was inevitable.
One day, Frasier would find someone and fall in love. He was such a catch, and he was a relationship guy. But the thought of him meeting someone and getting married sent a twist through my gut.
“Keep that up, and you’re going to pass out from lack of oxygen,” Frasier joked, startling me from my musings.
I jerked my attention to him. “What?”
“You keep sighing.”
“Oh.” I laughed, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”
“What’s on your mind?”
I shifted. “Is it terrible to admit that part of me is dreading the wedding?”
“It’s your date, huh?” Frasier deadpanned. “I hear he’s a real douche.”
I couldn’t help it. I started laughing. I appreciated the out; I’d had enough introspection for one night.
“Really? I think he’s a sweetheart.” When Frasier looked up at me, I could feel my cheeks heating. But I pushed on. “I’m just worried he won’t have a good time. You see—” I leaned in as if preparing to impart some huge secret “—I kind of roped him into going with me.”
He leaned even closer, close enough for me to smell his cologne. “I’m sure he feels honored to be going as your date.” His sincerity was as disarming as his proximity. “And I bet he’s looking forward to spending time with you.”
Something inside me warmed at those words, and I found myself smiling. “Ditto.”
And that was how I knew everything would be okay.