Chapter 14 Tate
Fourteen
Tate
Most of the time I loved my job. Being out in nature, getting my hands in the dirt.
I even loved the design aspect because that felt more like art than work.
But one thing I truly hated was paperwork.
Unfortunately, being my own boss meant there was nobody else to foist that off on.
Well, I could’ve dumped it on Kellan, but while the man had a lot of strengths, being detail-oriented and nit-picky about taxes and inventory wasn’t one of them.
Now that he was back, maybe we could look into hiring on a full-time office manager who could be more than just a receptionist who answered phones.
Until then, he was off meeting with a supplier while I was neck deep in catching up on the stuff I’d been putting off since he got back.
I’d just finished entering receipts into our bookkeeping program when the bell over the office door chimed. Before I could look up, Austen and Felicity flanked me like secret service agents.
“Time’s up, buttercup.” Austen plucked the pen from my fingers.
“What are you doing?”
“Staging an intervention.” Felicity grabbed my purse from the hook. “You’ve been dodging us for weeks.”
“I haven’t been dodging—”
“When’s the last time you came by the shop?” Felicity crossed her arms.
“Or the bookstore?” Austen added.
“I’ve been busy. Kellan just got back and—”
“Exactly.” They spoke in unison, which was creepy as hell.
“Get up.” Austen tugged my arm. “We’re going to Mario’s.”
“I can’t. I have work to do and—”
“The work will be here tomorrow.” Felicity steered me toward the door. “But right now, you’re going to have wine with us and spill about this engagement situation.”
My stomach dropped. “There’s nothing to spill.”
“Oh, honey.” Austen’s knowing look made me squirm. “Your face says otherwise.”
“Look, I appreciate the concern, but—”
“Nope.” Felicity popped the p. “We’ve given you space. We’ve watched you avoid us. Now it’s time to talk.”
I glanced between them, knowing I was trapped.
These two wouldn’t let up until they got answers.
And maybe I needed to talk about it. About how this fake engagement had turned into something very real.
About how I’d fallen into bed with my best friend and discovered that maybe everyone else had seen what we couldn’t.
“Fine.” I grabbed my jacket. “But let’s do this at Austen’s place. I don’t want to have this conversation in public.”
“Deal.” They grinned, victorious, and hustled me out the door.
We climbed the narrow stairs to Austen’s apartment above the bookstore. The moment we stepped inside, Austen’s massive cat, Cliffhanger, wound between our legs, nearly tripping me twice before I made it more than two feet inside.
Austen disappeared into the kitchen and returned with three mismatched wine glasses and two bottles. “I’ve got a pinot noir or this moscato that my mom brought last time she visited.”
“Anything.” I sank onto her oversized couch, which had definitely seen better days, but remained the most comfortable piece of furniture in town. She’d really perfected the cozy-reader-core vibe.
“So,” Felicity curled up in the adjacent armchair. “How’s living with the soldier boy?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?
Word is you and Gabe are getting pretty cozy these days.
” I knew she’d moved into Gabe Bishop’s house when her rental flooded.
His grandmother was her landlord and had made the arrangements.
Except apparently Felicity was still there now that he was home from deployment.
I knew she’d crushed on him all through high school, and I wondered how all that was going.
Her cheeks pinked. “We’re not talking about me.”
“And what about you and Clint?” I turned to Austen. “Serena said she heard you two were seen looking awfully chummy at the bowling alley last week.”
“Nice try.” Austen handed me a glass of the pinot. “But we’re here about you and that engagement that appeared out of nowhere.”
I set the glass on the coffee table before my trembling hands could betray me. “How much do you know?”
“Well, there was that adorable write up in the local paper.” Felicity ticked off on her fingers.
“And that landscape magazine article.” Austen nodded. “Which, by the way, I’ve had to special order six times now because apparently everyone in town wants a copy.”
My stomach lurched. “Six?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Austen leaned forward. “Spill it, sister. How exactly are you engaged to Kellan?”
“I’m not.” I pressed my palms flat against my thighs. “I mean, I wasn’t.”
“Wasn’t?” Felicity pounced on my word choice. “As in past tense?”
Heat crawled up my neck. “I mean, technically we’re still not.” I grabbed the wine and took a fortifying gulp. “Look, it’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it.” Austen tucked her feet under her. “Start with how this whole thing began.”
I explained about the magazine article, about thinking the publicity would be good for business, about the assumptions and embellishments that snowballed into an engagement announcement. The words tumbled out faster and faster.
“And then he got off the bus, and I panicked and kissed him, and now he’s living with me and—” I broke off, realizing I’d said way too much.
“Living with you?” Felicity’s eyebrows shot up.
“He said it made sense. To keep up appearances.” My voice went small. “And it does make sense. Except…”
“Except?” Austen prompted.
“Except I’m starting to forget it’s not real.” The admission burned my throat worse than the wine. “He keeps doing these things—little touches, holding my hand, the way he looks at me sometimes. And last week we...” I buried my face in my hands. “Oh God, I’m in so much trouble.”
“Did you sleep with him?” Felicity squealed.
I groaned into my palms.
“You did!” Austen crowed. “Girl, that’s not trouble, that’s progress!”
“Progress toward what?” I lifted my head. “Destroying our friendship? Ruining our business? Everything we’ve built?”
“Or maybe progress toward what everyone else has seen coming for years.” Felicity’s voice went gentle. “The way you two are together—that’s not just friendship, Tate. It never has been.”
“He said the same thing.” I whispered.
“Smart man.” Austen topped off my glass. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it?” I took another sip of wine. “I don’t know. We’re giving it a chance, but…”
“But what?” Felicity leaned forward.
“But what if it all falls apart?” The words spilled out.
“My parents were best friends before they got married. Everyone thought they were perfect together. Then the fighting started, and the cheating, and suddenly they couldn’t even be in the same room.
They haven’t spoken in fifteen years except through lawyers. ”
“You’re not your parents, Tate.” Austen’s voice went soft.
“Aren’t I? I saw what happened when they mixed friendship and romance.
It exploded. And they lost everything—their marriage, their friendship, their whole friend group had to choose sides.
” I twisted my wine glass between my fingers.
“If Kellan and I crash and burn, we don’t just lose us.
We lose the business we built together. Everything we worked for goes up in smoke. ”
Felicity set her glass down. “Or maybe you’re so scared of what could go wrong that you’re missing what could go right.”
“She’s got a point.” Austen nodded. “You’re looking for reasons this won’t work instead of seeing what’s right in front of you.”
“What’s right in front of me?”
“A man who came home from war and didn’t hesitate to play along with your crazy scheme.” Felicity ticked off on her fingers. “Who moved in with you to keep up appearances. Who’s apparently rocking your world in the bedroom—”
“Oh, God.” I buried my face in my hands.
“And who’s been your rock through everything for basically your entire life.” Austen finished. “That’s not nothing, honey.”
“When’s the last time you saw Kellan really date anyone?” Austen asked.
I frowned, thinking back. “There was that girl from the hardware store...”
“Three years ago,” Felicity cut in. “And it lasted what, two dates?”
“Something like that.”
“And before that?” Austen pressed.
“I don’t know. Lindsey, maybe? During that summer after college.”
“My point exactly.” Austen topped off my wine. “Don’t you think it’s interesting that neither of you had any serious relationships? That you both kept choosing to spend time with each other instead?”
“We’re business partners. Of course, we spend time together.”
“Honey.” Felicity’s voice went soft. “Business partners don’t curl up on the couch together watching movies.
They don’t show up at each other’s places at midnight just because they had a bad day.
They definitely don’t drop everything to drive three hours to pick the other up when their car breaks down. ”
Heat crept up my neck. “That’s what friends do.”
“No, that’s what people in love do.” Austen’s words hit me like a punch to the gut. “And maybe it’s time you stopped being scared of that.”
“I’m not—” But the protest died on my lips. Because they were right. I was terrified. Of losing him. Of ruining everything. Of ending up like my parents.
“The thing is,” Felicity leaned forward, “you’ve already jumped. You’re already falling. The only question is whether you’re going to let yourself enjoy the ride or spend the whole time waiting for the crash.”
I stared into my wineglass, watching the deep red liquid swirl. “What if I mess it up?”
“What if you don’t?” Austen countered. “What if this is exactly where you’re supposed to be?”
The weight that had been sitting on my chest for weeks lifted slightly. Maybe they were right. Maybe it was time to stop looking for reasons this wouldn’t work and start believing in the possibility that it could.