Chapter 20
twenty
Willow
This fake marriage does a lot of things to me. And making me nervous about going to the community dinner is at the top of the list right now.
I’ll be facing the whole town as Noah’s wife, Willow-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks. I try to shake the imposter syndrome that’s deeper than just from this marriage being fake. I can’t help but still see Noah as someone I shouldn’t have.
I know Emerald Creek isn’t judgmental the way other small towns can be. We’re in a hardscrabble part of the country, relying on each other to make it through. Rich or poor doesn’t matter when you’re stuck in a snowstorm or a barn fire threatens your house. Everyone’s help counts.
And yet here I am. A nervous wreck.
Probably more so because I lied to my friends, and that was strategically stupid on my part. I should have made up a proposal and a decision to elope. They would have bought it. I think. Now it’s going to be a repeat of the other day at the bakery, times ten.
“We have to really put on a good show,” I remind Noah as I’m applying makeup, looking at myself in the bathroom mirror while he gets ready in the bedroom.
I washed my hair and let it hang loose so it finishes drying naturally. I chose my bell bottom jeans with the stitched flowers in all sorts of colors, and the short-sleeved ruffled shirt in a light yellow that looks awesome with my tan. I’ll throw a shawl on my shoulders just in case.
“Really make them believe we’re together-together,” I add, not wanting to pronounce the words “in love” but wanting to make sure Noah understands that his mission tonight is to put his hands on me, whether he likes it or not.
Noah’s changing the shirt he wore all day for a fresh one, and I catch a glimpse of his torso and abs as I glance at him while talking. Oops. Didn’t mean to, but damn. He’s ripped. Hides it well too. I avert my eyes and swallow with difficulty.
“I know,” he says, tension radiating from him.
“I called the robot vacuum people today,” I say to change the topic as I lean closer to the mirror to attach my hoop earrings.
After he placed the order for the Kings’ rocking chair, Noah showed me how to contact our vendors and gave me free rein as long as I follow the tracking process he has in place.
There’s no chance in hell I’m placing real orders anytime soon, but this one company I saw on his online POS tickled me.
“Uh-huh?” Shirt buttoned, he leans against the bathroom door and looks at my reflection, rolling his sleeves up while he listens to me. I try not to look at his corded forearms, at the way his veins bulge along the side of his wrists, at the glimmer of the wedding band I slipped on his finger.
“They’re gonna send us some samples so we can try them.”
“Samples?”
Ready, I turn around and find him pushing his glasses up his nose as if he needs to examine me closer. “Yeah.”
His gaze flicks ever so slightly to my lips. “How do you get samples of vacuum cleaners?”
“Oh no. We’re getting actual vacuum cleaners. So we can sample them.”
He’s half-blocking my exit from the bathroom, so I brush past him to go into the bedroom, trying not to be obvious as I inhale his subtle scent.
“They’re sending us robot vacuum cleaners,” he repeats.
“Three of them,” I confirm as I pull my platform shoes from the closet. “One for each floor. They think it’s to let people try them at home. Which is sorta what we’re doing.”
“Uh-huh,” he says, this time with admiration in his tone.
“You can say it, you know,” I tease him.
“Say what?”
I sit on the edge of the bed to buckle my platforms. “That you’re proud of your wife.” I give him an exaggerated wink that’s meant to say I’m joking.
“I’m very proud of my wife,” he answers seriously. If I didn’t know better, I’d think his vibe is more smoulder than playful, but that’s just my wishful thinking.
I zip around to the nightstand so he can’t catch how good those words make me feel.
“Hey,” I tell him as I slide my wedding band on. “It’ll be fine. Just treat me as your girlfriend or something.” I glance at him, catching him with his hands on his hips, looking at me top to bottom as if he’s not sure what to do with me.
“You mean as my wife.”
The sharpness of hopeless longing carves its way to my heart.
Don’t be silly, Willow. He’s just practicing.
It’s just this whole getting-ready-together-in-the-bedroom that’s getting to your head.
I force a laugh. “Right—good point.” I take my leather cross-body bag and turn on my heels, eager to leave the bedroom and join Beck and Lane downstairs.
Away from Noah for a minute while I collect myself.
“You’re not taking this?” he asks, and I turn around. He’s spreading my shawl open.
“Oh, thanks.”
I extend my hand, but he wraps it around my shoulders instead and lifts my hair out from under it. “Just getting the hang of this wife thing,” he murmurs.
Someone please make him stop.
“Course,” I answer, my voice stranded.
But he doesn’t stop.
Because he understands the assignment perfectly.
When the four of us get to Lazy’s, he leads me inside with a hand on the small of my back. The din of conversation dips a bit as we make our entrance, all of Emerald Creek taking in our presence. Then the noise level increases again, confirming we’re the hot new topic of gossip.
“Let’s get this over with,” Noah says, teeth clenched, his hand going from my lower back to my shoulders.
Beck and Lane set the Callaway mac’n cheese on the bar counter while Noah and I make our way to the booth occupied by our friends.
We’re stopped on our way by Owen. He was a few grades above me in school, but his reputation as a bully was known to all.
Now he’s a lawyer and still gives me the ick, so I leave Noah’s side and latch onto Cassandra who just came in.
She takes me in a warm hug and pulls a small bundle wrapped in a purple muslin out of her bag. “Sage,” she says. “You know how to use it, right?” Cassandra’s witchy reputation is well-deserved.
I smile as I place the thoughtful gift in my bag. “I sure do. Thank you.”
She squeezes my shoulder as we walk farther inside the room. “You’ll need it.”
Will I, though? Haven’t done this since I was a preteen. “I’m sure I will,” I answer as she leaves to greet other people.
Alone in the loud room, there’s no going back now. My friends are gathered at our usual table. I take a deep breath and join them.
All eyes are on me.
“Show us,” Alex says, pointing to my ring finger, not giving me a chance to sit down as my friends crowd me.
“Oh darn it, he’s wasn’t joking when he married you. That is the Callaway ring,” Grace says.
“Um—yeah,” I say, feeling really self-conscious about wearing a family heirloom I definitely don’t deserve. But it makes the marriage look real. Alex takes my hand, and my friends fawn over the wedding band.
“That is just so totally Emerald Creek in the form of a ring,” Grace whispers.
“I’ve never seen it up close like that.” She glances at me with a soft smile.
Grace knows about my seemingly life-long infatuation with Noah.
There’s no way she’s not wondering what happened, but she’s too sweet to ask or even imply anything.
Her seven-year-old cousin and Alex’s adopted daughter wiggles her way within the circle of women and gasps in awe. With a dramatic eye flutter, Skye says, “I think I’ll get married after all.”
She’s met with a concert of awwws, then Alex’s comment, “It’s not about the ring, sweetie.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Grace muses, then to Skye, she says, “Your mom is right. You can get your own ring, you know, if that’s what you really want.”
“But I think it’d be better if someone I looooove gave it to me,” Skye answers. Then she turns around and gives her mom’s belly a hug before running to join a group of kids.
“How’s married life?” Kiara asks, winking at me. “Where’s hubby?”
I motion in the general direction of where I left Noah and pointedly focus on Alex. I can’t lie to Kiara, neither can I answer truthfully in public. “You feeling okay?” I ask Alex. She looks miserable, sprawled on a chair, both hands on her lower belly.
“I probably won’t stay long,” she says. “Hey, I have a favor to ask. Would you guys be cool looking after Skye in case no one else is available when the baby comes? I figured you’re the closest. When we made our birth plan, we thought of Grace and Ethan, with Kiara and Colton as contingency, but—”
“We’re around the corner. Of course we’re cool with that,” I answer right as Noah joins us, holding a heaping plate of food but looking a little upset. Owen, for sure. I slip my hand around his waist and bring him up to speed.
His free arm curves around my shoulders, his fingers stroking the naked skin under my shawl. Good. He remembered we’re supposed to be married.
And he’s damn good at faking it. “We’d love to look after Skye.
Right, babe?” He skims my temple with his mouth, inhaling softly.
“I got you Shane’s shepherd’s pie,” he says as he sets the plate on the table.
“Be right back.” He dashes to the back of the room, no doubt to fill up the cash collection box.
Kiara narrows her eyes at Noah’s back, then squints at me, a thousand words in the turbulence of her gray eyes. She has her we-have-to-talk look, but I can’t go there.
A wave of sadness takes hold of me as I fully grasp the implications of my commitment.
I’m truly alone, unable to confide in my friends, to lean into their friendship, to count on their support for however long this lasts.
Meanwhile, I’m fast becoming desperately accustomed to my fake husband’s displays of physical attraction in public and friendship in private.
I feel fucking alone and desperate, and as if that weren’t enough, more than just horny.