5. Rosalie
5
ROSALIE
My stomach is churning as Boone heads for the door. I’ve never been a good liar, and now I have to convince a stranger that I’m in a committed relationship with a guy I met yesterday. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but if we can pull it off, it will all be worth it. Pretending to date a hot lumberjack is a small price to pay to keep my candy store.
Boone shoots me a quick look of reassurance as he grabs the handle, and my heart jolts beneath my rib cage. It’s like my body didn’t get the memo that none of this is real. Heck, even my brain is struggling with it. This morning, I spent ages getting dressed and doing my hair, trying to look pretty for Boone. I wanted to impress him. Kind of dumb, considering this man is a total grump who doesn’t believe in love or relationships.
Deep breaths, Rosalie.
None of this is real.
The door opens to reveal an old man with piercing blue eyes, the same color as Boone’s. The family resemblance is easy to see. They’re both tall and commanding—though the old man is thin and wiry while Boone is thick and muscular—with matching grumpy expressions and heavy brows.
“Hi, Grandpa. Come on in.”
The old man strides inside—he must be in his eighties, but he moves with the energy of a much younger man. His keen eyes land on me, and I see a flicker of surprise cross his face. My throat constricts as Boone closes the door and moves to stand beside me, taking my hand. His calloused palm swallows mine, the contact making it even harder for me to breathe.
“Grandpa, this is Rosalie,” Boone says. “My girlfriend.”
The old man shakes his head, and for a moment, I’m convinced he can see right through us.
He knows. Somehow, he knows we’re lying.
But then his face splits into a smile.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He reaches out to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you, Rosalie.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Mercer,” I say, trying to keep the tremor from my voice.
“Call me Lloyd.” He must sense my nervousness because his face softens as he looks at me. “Don’t worry, I’m not as scary as I look. All bark and no bite.”
I chuckle politely, and as Boone’s arm loops around my shoulders, I relax against him. His presence is comforting—safe and solid—and I breathe in his woodsy scent, feeling calmer.
I just need to believe he’s my boyfriend for a couple of hours.
If I truly believe it, then it won’t feel like pretending at all.
Boone ushers me to the couch where we sit side by side, our thighs pressing together. His grandpa takes a chair by the fire, facing us, his curiosity palpable.
“So, how long have you two been dating?” he asks.
“Since just before Christmas,” Boone says, launching into the fake meet-cute that we came up with earlier. He tells the story so convincingly that I almost believe it myself.
“…then once I got the jar open, I asked her out for coffee. It was love at first sight.”
His voice is filled with tenderness, and he squeezes me tight, like he’s losing himself in the memory of our meeting. I follow his lead, ignoring the strange pang in my stomach.
“It really was,” I say, forcing a smile. “We had our first date at Perfect Brews—you know, the coffee shop in town?”
Lloyd nods. “I know it well.”
“We stayed until closing time,” Boone says. “They had to ask us to leave.”
I giggle like I’m reliving the memory. I can almost see it in my mind’s eye—our meet-cute, our first date. Part of me wishes it had really happened that way.
Nope. Don’t think like that.
You’re doing this for Peak Sweets.
That’s all that matters.
“Well, I have to say, I’m surprised,” Lloyd says, pulling me from my thoughts. “When Boone told me he had a girlfriend, I didn’t believe him for a second. He’s always been a lone wolf. And a grumpy one at that.”
This time, my giggle isn’t fake. “You can say that again.”
Boone grunts from beside me, meeting my eye with an exaggerated scowl that makes me laugh even harder.
“Well, I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong,” Lloyd says, nodding at us. “Clearly you’re in a relationship after all.”
My pulse quickens. Have we done enough to convince him? Is this all it’s going to take to save my candy store?
“So you’re satisfied?” Boone asks. “The inheritance?—”
“Not so fast, boy.” Lloyd holds up a hand to silence him. “I’m afraid it’s going to take more than a ten-minute meeting to convince me this is the real deal.”
Boone glares at him. “You just said that I’m clearly in a relationship. That was the condition of Grandma’s will.”
“The condition is that you need to be in a committed relationship,” Lloyd says. “Emphasis on committed.” He crosses his arms, looking pointedly at his grandson. “I don’t see Grandma’s engagement ring on this young lady’s finger.”
“Well, not yet, but?—”
“I also don’t see any of Rosalie’s things in here, so I take it you’re not living together.”
“Not yet, but?—”
“No buts,” Lloyd says firmly. “Your grandma left me in charge of her will, and I need to know this relationship is serious before I give you the inheritance. Those were her wishes, boy, and I take them very seriously.”
Boone’s arm twitches around my shoulders, and I feel a stab of guilt in my chest for lying to this old man. He’s just trying to fulfill his wife’s final wishes, and I’m deceiving him for my own gain. We both are. But I can’t let that hold me back. I said I’d do whatever it takes to keep my candy store, and I meant it.
But that doesn’t mean I feel good about it.
“Alright, Pops,” Boone says reluctantly. “But no matter what you think, I know Rosalie is the one for me. We’re serious about each other.”
Lloyd smiles slightly. “I’m sure you are, but it’s going to take more than just words to prove it.” He stands up, running a hand through his silver hair. “When you’re living together and there’s a ring on her finger, then we’ll talk.”
Boone nods, his jaw tight.
“It was nice to meet you, Rosalie,” Lloyd says, reaching down to shake my hand. “Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out.” He starts to walk away, then turns back to me. “Listen, I’m sorry about all this. It must feel pretty awkward for you. I hope you understand that I’m just trying to honor my wife’s will. I’m not trying to be hard on you…on either of you.”
His eyes shimmer with suppressed emotion, and I feel a rush of sympathy for Lloyd. I know how it feels to lose someone you love—it must be such a difficult time for him.
“I understand,” I tell him, reaching up to grip his hand. “Please don’t worry about it. You’re just doing what you need to do.”
Lloyd nods, smiling at me, his gaze sliding to his grandson. “You’ve got a real sweetheart here, Boone. Be good to her.”
We say our goodbyes and when the door closes behind Lloyd, I let out a deep breath.
“You okay?” Boone asks from beside me.
I swallow hard. “It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be…lying to him like that.”
“You’re right.” His arm is still wrapped around my shoulders, like he’s forgotten to move it. “It’s not easy, but you did a great job. He liked you. I can tell.”
“I liked him too.”
We sit in silence for a few moments, staring at the fire crackling in the hearth, lost in our own thoughts.
“Your grandpa said something about an engagement ring?” I say eventually.
“Yeah, it was my grandma’s. She said it was for when I found the right person.” Boone makes a noise deep in his throat, withdrawing his arm from around me and standing up, pacing in front of the fire. “She never accepted that I wanted to be alone. I hate lying to the old man, but dammit, what else can I do?”
He runs a hand over his beard, looking agitated. I can tell that lying to his grandpa is taking a toll, but before I can speak, he stops pacing and turns to me. “I’m sorry, Rosalie. None of this is your problem. Hell, I really appreciate what you’re doing…more than you know.”
I smile at him, those sky-blue eyes making me melt as he looks at me. “I appreciate what you’re doing, too. If I hadn’t met you, I’d be clearing out my store right now. You’ve thrown me a lifeline.”
“It’s the least I can do. You’re doing me a huge favor here, Rosalie.”
He rejoins me on the couch, collapsing beside me, his giant frame taking up more than half the space. My instinct is to curl up against him, and I have to resist the urge to snuggle against his broad chest. His arm around my shoulders felt so natural, and my body feels cold without his touch.
“What do we do now?” I ask, brushing off my crazy thoughts.
Boone is quiet for a moment. “How would you feel about staying here for a little while?”
“In your cabin?”
He nods. “I know my grandpa. Something tells me he’s going to drop by on the regular to see if we’re spending time together. It will look more realistic if you’re living here.”
My mouth goes dry at the idea of staying with Boone—just the two of us in his isolated cabin. It shouldn’t excite me, but it does, and I feel like I’m about to float up off the couch.
“I know it’s inconvenient,” Boone says, taking my silence for reluctance, “but I’ll pay for your gas so you can get to Peak Sweets every morning. And I’ll cook too. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“You think so?” Boone looks at me, his eyes twinkling.
I nod. “Let’s do it.”