Chapter 14
Cal
The water is calm and steady this morning, and Jonah’s next to me, quiet like always, as we get our lines ready to fish. I cast mine out and watch it disappear into the blue and let my mind wander over the past couple of days.
Jonah clears his throat and says quietly, “I’ve been seeing you with the pretty blonde a lot.”
Pretty is an understatement. She’s mesmerizing. I feel like she puts me under a spell anytime she’s nearby. Hell, even when she’s not, my mind is on her as if lured into magically thinking about her.
Is that why you offered to marry her?
I shake away those thoughts and mutter, “You know her name.”
He grunts, which is as close to agreement as I’m going to get with Jonah.
“I introduced her to my mom.”
That gets me a glance my way, and he says, “Bet Carly loved her.”
I smirk. “She did. Those two hit it off.”
I’m worried, though, about Mom getting too attached to her. Even though she knows the marriage is temporary, Mom isn’t one to just stop caring about someone. Unfortunately, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
Jonah glances over again. “Knew it.”
“She practically bought out the entire mobile bookstore,” I add. “Two huge bags. I tried to stop her, but she’s hard-headed.”
“Good luck with that.” Jonah chuckles. “Sounds like the perfect woman for you. Someone to keep your stubborn ass on your toes.”
I reel in and cast again. My voice comes out nervous, and I just tell him. “We’re getting married.”
It’s strange admitting that to him. These are words I never thought I’d say out loud. I’ve been perfectly happy with the bachelor life. And now just look at me.
You’re not marrying for love, idiot. You’re helping a friend.
Jonah stops moving, and he turns slowly to me and grumbles in shock. “Well, that escalated quickly.”
The boat drifts, and his line goes slack. Jonah is just staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“I’m helping her,” I say with a sigh. “She’s got some will thing going on with her family.
She has to be married by her thirtieth birthday, or her family’s company gets turned over to a trust, and she loses everything.
And now, she’s contending with their contingency plan.
Her awful sister who already stole her fiancé.
” I scrub a palm down my face. “Silvie’s a good person.
She doesn’t deserve that. This is something I can do to help her solve this problem. ”
Jonah squints. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” I utter. “You can’t tell anyone, either.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Who am I gonna tell?”
“One of your many girlfriends. The Bees. The ones who like to moon you.”
“I’m going to throw you overboard,” he decides.
I laugh, reach for my water, and take a swig. And I think about how this all sounds when I actually say it out loud. It does sound insane. But maybe something Jonah said about Silvie was right. She is different. I can’t explain it. Maybe I never will be able to. But this feels right, helping her.
He’s quiet for a while, then says, “I told you this one is different.”
That hits me in the chest harder than I thought it would. But I know, deep down, somehow, this is true. She is different. I have no idea how or what, but something is different.
I’ve never had feelings like this for someone that run as deep as they do for Silvie.
We’re friends, but I think there’s hella potential for more.
Watching her with my mom. Seeing how she looks after Birdie.
She’s a powerhouse VP of her company. And that’s sexy as hell.
I like her a lot. I love hearing her laugh and being playful with Wilby.
She’s someone I could see myself with beyond a marriage of convenience, and that also scares the hell out of me. I’ve never met anyone like her.
The voice of reason inside my head tries to calculate what the end games looks like for all this.
Do we stay here or do we need to spend the allotted time in New York?
Is there a time period where we stay married and then divorce?
My gut clenches, not necessarily loving that thought.
But I barely know her, so it’s not like we could stay married if it worked out, right?
I haven’t even kissed her. Yet.
“I like her,” Jonah finally says.
I look at him, and that’s when it hits me how insane that statement is.
Jonah never admits to liking anyone. If he likes you, he’ll show it by showing up for you.
But he’s a man of few words. He came to every one of my high school sporting events.
Just showed up. Sat alone. Watched me. Then got up and left at the end.
He’s always shown up for me. Even when I went to prom.
He showed up and snapped a few pictures on his old digital camera, grumbled something, and left.
Only later did I see that same photo and several others he had of me at important life stages, taped to the side of his fridge.
Quietly, in the background, he’s always been there.
Always supported me. And that’s another reason I don’t want to leave Coconut Beach.
He and my mom. They mean everything to me.
I’d do anything for them. And I don’t want to miss these years with them.
They don’t get it, but I’m not sacrificing my time for them.
I’m sacrificing other dreams to have them.
I want them in my life. That’s what family means to me.
But when this is all over with Silvie, will it leave a crater-sized hole in me? I have a strong feeling it will. The hurt might just be worth it, though. I know I should steel myself. This is temporary, and I’m just doing a good thing for someone who needs my help. That’s it.
But that’s not true. I like her, too. So much. I knew being attracted to her and letting myself get attached would bite my ass in the end.
The marriage part doesn’t scare me. No, it’s the way I know this all ends. She returns to New York, to her real life. I’ll still be here. Bartending and managing Cocktails & Chaos. Fishing with Jonah. Taking care of my mom. Same beach, same boat, same thing every day.
But maybe it won’t hurt as badly as I think. Maybe I’ll push through. Either way, I’m doing it.
I’m headed home from fishing to shower and get ready for the day when I pass my mom’s house. Sometimes she waves from her front window, but this time she’s not there. I make my way around the side and pause when I hear it. Laughter. And more than one person is laughing.
What the...?
The sound of laughter spills out the open back door and drifts across the yard, light and easy, as if this were an everyday, normal thing, which it’s not.
My mom doesn’t let any visitors come besides me.
And she doesn’t leave her door open. Ever.
Or unlocked. I slow down, and my chest tightens as I make my way closer to take a look.
I recognize my mom’s laughter and her voice. She’s happy and talking, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. I get closer, and sunlight pours in the wide-open door. That’s when I see them.
Silvie and Mom are sitting at her kitchen table with plates of scones between them. They have mugs of coffee in front of them, and my mom’s leaning back in her chair, laughing so hard, she’s wiping at her eyes. I haven’t seen her like this in years.
My heart thuds painfully in my chest. I watch silently from the doorway for a while, neither of them aware of me being here. Silvie’s holding up a book and saying something to my mom, and that makes her laugh even harder.
“And it was so funny because in this one part...” Silvie trails off when she realizes I’m standing here. Her eyes widen and skim down my chest. It’s then I remember I’m not wearing a shirt. I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the doorway.
“Hi.” She gasps. “Cal.”
“You guys good?” I ask, trying to keep it casual as I look from her to my mom and back at her.
I can’t remember the last time I saw my mom this happy. My chest is tight, and the overwhelming feeling of many emotions fills me. Happiness. Gratitude. Regret. All a strange combo.
My mom looks at me and beams. “Hi, honey. I was just having scones and coffee with Silvie.”
She says it as if it’s absolutely normal to do on a random day.
It’s not. I mean, I’ve always wanted her to do this.
In fact, for years, people have tried to come visit.
She just wouldn’t take any visitors without me being there.
Ever. They give up and just leave her random goodies and notes on her porch now.
Which she loves...but I’ve never seen anyone here.
Silvie nods, confirming. “Yeah. We’re good. We’re talking about books. Your mom has read so many good ones. So, many. Cal, she’s got the lowdown on the best series. Like ever. I have to write these down.”
“Did you tell her what her job is?” I prompt, looking at my mom.
“Yes,” Silvie says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Coolest job ever, by the way. Your mom is just way cool.”
Mom looks down, not sure what to do with the compliment. “Thanks,” she says softly, but I know she’s so happy right now.
“I can’t believe you’re an editor for a major publishing house. You get paid to read books. Not fair,” Silvie says, tucking her pretty hair behind her ear. “You’re living the life, Carly.”
It’s the perfect job for my mom, who refuses to leave the house.
“Silvie and I are going to have our own little book club,” Mom says cheerfully. “And set up regular coffee dates.”
Interesting. Like this is normal. Like, Silvie didn’t just slide herself into the center of my life and make my two favorite people fall in love with her.
Jonah and my mom. This is like freaking sorcery.
Like the universe is sending me the biggest joke ever.
A fake wife who my family is into almost as much as I am.
Because, let’s face it. I’m really into her.
“Come join us, honey,” my mom calls as she stands to grab another plate out of the cabinet.
She knows I’ll never turn down time with her. Even though I need to get home and get ready. I can’t ever tell her no.
I grab the shirt thrown over my shoulder, put it on, and make my way to the sink to wash my hands. “Fair warning, I smell. I’ve been out fishing with Jonah.”
“Oh, how is Jonah? He’s supposed to bring me a fish today to fry,” she says as she slides a mug onto the table and pushes the plate toward me. “We have a thing where he leaves one already in the cooler by the back door.”
I actually did not know that. Another interesting fact that I’m learning about my mother today.
I watch Silvie reach for another scone in the center of the table. She eyes me curiously. I didn’t miss the way her eyes trace my tattoos on my chest and arms. That was one hobby I’ve had the past few years, collecting tattoos. And it seems like she likes them.
“He’s good. I told him we were getting fake married. He knows not to tell anyone, so don’t worry,” I say as I take a bite of a scone.
Silvie nods. “Of course, I trust Jonah.”
“Me, too.” Carly nods. “He’s a good man.”
We make small talk, and I don’t miss how Silvie’s eyes drift between my mom and me like she’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
This is when it hits me. I’m so screwed.
I’m in deep. I like her. And all of the walls that I’ve carefully built around me here in Coconut Beach to keep myself safe are crumbling one by one, and I feel like I’m watching it happen in real time.
Like I’m sitting here, and there’s nothing I could do to stop it if I even tried.
The divorce after the fake marriage is going to hit me hard.
And there’s nothing I can do about it.