9. Susan
Chapter nine
Susan
B leary-eyed, I slapped the snooze button and burrowed back under the covers for a few more precious minutes of sleep. But Baxter wasn't having it. I heard his nails click-clacking on the hardwood floor as he scampered into my room and shoved his cold, wet nose into my face.
"Alright, alright, I'm up," I mumbled, dragging myself out of bed. Baxter let out a happy woof and did a little wiggle dance, his ears flopping around. I couldn't help but smile at the goofy hound. It was my library day with Baxter, which usually meant arriving early to let him have a run around the park before settling in for the day.
We slipped into our usual morning rhythm—coffee brewing, Baxter's kibble clattering into his bowl, and me shuffling around the bathroom going through my get-ready routine. As mundane as it was, the routine had a certain comfort.
Although I had to admit to myself, I was getting pretty good at handling my fair share of not-so-routine days. And I was becoming pretty good at this fake fiancée routine.
I sat at the table to drink my coffee and looked at the ring on my finger. A part of me enjoyed spending time with Nate and wished it was real.
He was charming, funny, and surprisingly easy to get along with. I was shocked when the app matched us, but the more we hung out, the more I realized how much we had in common.
My mom walked into the kitchen pulling me from my thoughts. “Good morning, sweetheart. You know I still haven’t heard any details on the wedding date or venue. And what about your dress? Oh, and the color scheme and flowers! Have you considered peonies? They’re so delicate and romantic!”
She paused for a much-needed breath, her coffee cup halted halfway to her lips, her eyes wide with the thrill of pending nuptials. I could practically see the Pinterest boards being assembled in her mind, each full of DIY decor ideas and whimsical wedding themes.
"Mom," I began, putting on my most reassuring tone. “Everything's still in the works. Nate and I are just enjoying our time together right now. We're not rushing anything." I prayed my face didn't betray the half-truth I was selling. The truth was, there were no wedding plans because there wouldn't be a wedding. But I couldn't bring myself to tell my mom that yet. Or anyone else in town, for that matter.
Before she could press further, I quickly changed the subject, “Oh, the time must have gotten away from me. I need to finish getting ready for work.” I jumped up from the table, put my dishes in the sink, and hurried to my room.
I had just finished getting dressed and walked into the living room to change out of my slippers when a streak of orange outside the window caught my eye. There was a stray cat prowling along the fence line. Baxter noticed it, too, and let out an excited howl.
Before I could stop him, he made a beeline for the front door. I had propped the door open to let in some fresh air, the screen door acting as a barrier against unwelcome pests. Somehow, in his excitement and exuberance, Baxter's paw hit the handle just right. With a loud creak, the door swung open.
"Baxter, no!" I yelled, lunging for his leash hanging on the hook. Too late. The door slammed shut, and he tore off after the cat, leash dangling uselessly from my hand. I stood frozen for a second, then took off running after him. Slippers flapping and hair flying. So much for a calm morning.
I sprinted down the sidewalk after Baxter, calling his name as he bounded gleefully after the fleeing cat. My eyes were glued to his floppy ears, bouncing with each step, willing him to stop before he got too far.
Just as I was gaining ground, Baxter made a sharp turn, nearly causing me to faceplant into a bush. I managed to keep myself upright and continue running, only to discover my path was now blocked by an enormous puddle hidden in the shadows of a large oak tree.
I tried to stop or go around, but my momentum was too much. One foot landed in the muddy water and instantly slipped from under me. Arms windmilling, I let out a surprised yelp as I landed on my backside with a giant splat.
I sat there stunned, covered in mud up to my elbows. The chill of the water started to seep through my clothes. Baxter paused to glance back as if to say, "What are you doing down there?" Then, he was off again, following the scent of adventure.
With a groan, I started attempting to get back on my feet, only to slip and fall again.
Just then, I heard footsteps approaching. Oh no. I looked up to see none other than Nate jogging around the corner. He slowed, taking in the scene with raised eyebrows and barely contained amusement.
"Susan? Is everything okay down there?" He grinned, though his eyes held a glimmer of concern.
I sighed, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Oh, just fabulous. Nothing like a morning mud bath to start your day."
This could go down in history as one of my most embarrassing moments. But maybe if I played it off with humor, I could retain a shred of dignity.
Yeah right. Dignity was currently oozing down the sidewalk in muddy rivulets. At least it was Nate who found me like this and not...
My thoughts were interrupted by the click of a camera shutter. I swiveled my head to see Frances grinning like the Cheshire Cat, phone aimed right at me.
"This is too good!" she exclaimed. "The headline writes itself: Librarian Takes Unscheduled Bath Break."
I dropped my forehead into my muddy palm with a squelch.
"Frances, please don't take photos," I pleaded, but my protest only encouraged her paparazzi instincts. She circled around, snapping more shots as Nate tried to lend me a hand.
"Here, let me help-" he began, reaching for my arm. But the mud had other plans. His expensive running shoes slid straight out from under him, sending Nate flailing backward with a yelp. He landed on his backside in the muck beside me with a tremendous splat.
For a moment, we stared at each other in shock. Nate's black hair was matted with mud, and his jogging clothes were equally filthy. Then his eyes crinkled, and he burst out laughing.
Despite myself, giggles bubbled up in my throat. Soon, we were both cracking up uncontrollably. Nate slipped and slid, trying to stand, only making us laugh harder.
Through it all, Baxter decided to make his triumphant return, sprinting towards us, the cat long forgotten.
"Nate!" I could barely get his name out through the sounds of laughter, pointing at the oncoming mass of canine fur and floppy ears.
Nate turned just in time to be bowled over by an enthusiastic Baxter, slipping straight back into the mud with a surprised yelp. Oh, this couldn't get any more absurd. The laughter was now a physical ache in my sides, but it was the best kind of discomfort.
Just as the hilarity started to simmer down, Baxter took the opportunity to shake off the excess mud. The airborne mud splattered all over us, reigniting our helpless laughter.
Frances, meanwhile, was in paparazzi heaven, phone clicking nonstop. "This is priceless! Wait until Rivermint Cove gets a load of Dr. Reynolds and the Librarian's mud bath madness!"
Between fits of laughter, I caught Nate's twinkling gaze. We were both a mess, but somehow, sharing this silly moment of humiliation brought us closer together. After all, laughter is the best medicine... or so they say.
I should have known Frances wouldn’t waste any time posting the pictures. By the time I'd cleaned myself up and made it to the library, the photos were already lighting up the Rivermint Cove Gossip Feed. She was young and loved a good story. I was pretty certain that she was the face behind the Rivermint Cove gossip mill page, even though she had tried to deny it.
Whispers and poorly stifled giggles trailed me as I walked between the aisles. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught patrons peering at their screens and glancing my way with barely contained laughter.
My cheeks burned, but I kept my head high. So, I'd taken an unfortunate spill and been caught on camera covered in mud. Was it really that hilarious?
Apparently so, judging by the constant snickering that trailed behind me. I tried to ignore it all, focusing on shelving books.
Until I turned down the fiction aisle and found Emily waiting for me, arms crossed, looking visibly upset.
Great, just what I needed.
"Hey, Emily," I said weakly. "Did you happen to catch the latest gossip?"
Her eyes narrowed. "I did. And I couldn't help noticing how close you and my brother looked in those shots."
I swallowed. Here it was—the confrontation I'd been dreading about my conflicted feelings for Nate, one I was wholly unprepared for. I had always kept my secret crush on Nate hidden.
I fumbled for words as Emily stared at me expectantly. How could I explain my tangled emotions when I barely understood them myself ?
"I know how it looked," I began slowly. "But really, it was just an embarrassing moment caught on camera. The mud was super slippery."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "It seemed like more than that to me. I know my brother and the way he was looking at you..." She trailed off meaningfully.
My pulse quickened. Had Nate's true feelings been shown in those photos? I thought of the warmth in his eyes when he'd helped me up from the mud puddle. Was he having the same feelings that I was?
"Nate was just being a gentleman," I said, aiming for a light, joking tone even as my nerves jangled. "You know, helping the damsel in distress and all that."
Emily looked unconvinced. I wracked my brain for further excuses, afraid to reveal the shift I felt happening between Nate and me. Our fake engagement was one thing, but genuine romance. It felt too momentous to acknowledge, especially to Emily.
"You have to admit, it did make for a pretty funny photo," I said, aiming for a teasing tone. "I mean, can you imagine a more ridiculous way to start the day? Your brother looked like a drowned rat."
I grinned, hoping humor would distract her. Emily laughed reluctantly.
"Okay, it was a pretty hilarious scene," she conceded, her expression softening. "I just want you to be honest with me, that's all."
I smiled, even as guilt nagged at me. "Of course. You know you're my best friend."
Emily brightened, appeased for the moment. But my own feelings remained muddied, like my dirt-stained blouse. I still had some soul-searching to do .
After work, I decided to go get some ice cream at the new local parlor to clear my thoughts. The sweet scent of waffle cones wafted through the air, and the soft hum of churning cream was strangely comforting.
I had just ordered a double scoop of Rocky Road when I heard a familiar voice behind me, "Seems you can't get enough of sticky situations, huh?"
I spun around to find Nate grinning at me, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. He wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a white button-down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking every bit the casual heartthrob.
"Drowning in ice cream doesn’t sound half as bad as falling into puddles," I shot back, my heart fluttering at his unexpected presence. "What brings you here? Don't tell me you're a secret fan of the Rocky Road."
His eyes sparkled with mischief. "I prefer the Mint Chocolate, but who am I to judge?" He glanced at the guy handing me my order, then back at my face. "I could be persuaded to try the Rocky Road... if you'd care to share?"
I hesitated, the request catching me off guard. This was exactly the sort of thing a real couple might do. Sharing ice cream on a whim seemed too intimate, too...real. But his smile was infectious, his presence comforting, and I nodded despite the confusion swirling in my head. "Sure, why not? It's your funeral, though. This stuff is addictive."
A genuine laugh escaped Nate's mouth, making me smile in return. Our playful banter felt natural and comfortable.
As I handed him a spoon, our hands brushed. A jolt of electricity sparked, and my heart somersaulted. His smile softened as he took a bite, and his eyes closed in appreciation. " Mmm...you're right. This is dangerous," he said, looking content. "But it's worth every bite."
We spent the rest of the evening in the shop, sharing stories, huddled over the rapidly melting dessert. Eventually, the setting sun signaled it was time to leave, and we parted ways with a soft goodbye and the promise to see each other soon.
Once I was alone, the weight of what had happened began to settle. The sweetness of the ice cream, his infectious laughter, our fingers brushing. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed undeniable. I was falling for Nate, and not just in a "pretend for the cameras" kind of way. Or a small childhood crush kind of way. This was a heart-hammering, can't-stop-thinking-about-him kind of emotion, and it scared me. If I let myself fall for him, what would happen to my heart when our charade was over?