Chapter 30
While Nate is in the shower, I hide around the corner of the patio and step into my outfit: a chambray, strapless, wide-leg jumpsuit with a cutout stomach. Ties at the waistline make a bow, so the cutout isn’t so prominent. Once dressed, I wrap my damp hair into a knot on top of my head and apply some makeup.
I’m trying to make a quick getaway before Nate is done getting ready, so I won’t have to walk with him to dinner. But as I finish putting on my strappy sandals, he comes around the corner in navy shorts and a white button-up that’s practically see-through—dang you, lightweight linen.
The gravitational force of his sexy is strong.
So is the force of his heady cologne.
His eyes trace the length of my bare shoulders and collarbone then drop to the cutout, where there’s a glimpse of my midsection. His gaze lingers a beat too long before he snaps his eyes up to meet mine.
“Um…” He scratches the back of his neck as he clears his throat. “You look nice.”
Nice.
There’s that word again.
But this time, his compliment, or maybe it’s the way he downplayed his obvious approval, has a direct hit on my heart. That’s not going to work for me. So I put on my bulletproof vest and pretend like his appraisal and my reaction never happened.
“I’m leaving,” I announce as I grab my purse.
“We can walk together.”
Why?
Nate walks toward me, gesturing to the door.
There’s no way I’m getting out of this, so I surrender. “Sure.”
We walk in silence for the first thirty seconds, and I am happy to keep it like that, but Nate ruins everything by speaking.
“I just want you to know that you don’t need to be embarrassed.”
“About the shower or the calendar?”
He chuckles. “It was an eventful twenty minutes.”
More like the most horrifying twenty minutes of my life.
“But I was talking about the calendar.”
“When?” my voice cracks with embarrassment, but I rally. “When did I send it to you?”
“I don’t know.” He blows a raspberry with his lips. “It was sometime during the planning of the Egypt trip.”
“Egypt!” I say on a deep exhale. “That was, like, seven or eight months ago.”
But at least the pieces are coming together. I was responsible for the project timeline for that trip. I created a Google calendar and shared it with him, along with my monthly cycle calendar.
“Relax. I barely even looked at it.”
“That is such a lie. There’s not a single person on this planet who wouldn’t have opened it, read it, and kept reading it. It’s the same as finding someone’s diary and reading it from cover to cover before returning it. The type of information that’s so juicy you can’t not read it.”
“Okay, fine. I only read the notifications when they popped up.” He smiles a knowing smile that makes me want to crawl into a hole.
I drop my face into my hands, hiding my burning cheeks.
“Oh, it’s not that bad. It’s actually kind of funny.”
“It’s not funny.” But even as I say it, I’m biting back a reluctant smile.
“We can tell the story at our fake fortieth-anniversary party. ‘Kids, let me tell you about the time your mom kept track of when she was horny and how her bowel movements were going.’”
A laugh snorts out as I playfully punch his shoulder. “See? You did read it! All of it.”
“Of course I read all of it.”
“In my defense, my digestive system goes completely rogue when I’m on my period. It would be irresponsible not to track that.”
“Forget about Midol. I should’ve brought you some Tums.” He laughs, and for a few seconds, I join him.
It’s a weird thing, laughing with your enemy. It kind of makes it feel like he’s not really my enemy after all.
“Well, it’s a good thing I hate you,” I say with an impish smile, “or this whole thing would’ve been way more embarrassing.”
“Yeah,” he jokes, “saved by your hatred.”
We stare at each other for a few seconds, both smiling. One of the barriers between us slowly begins to crumble as I realize, once again, I’ve misjudged Nate. All this time, he wasn’t making dismissive, stereotypical PMS jokes. He was actually trying to be nice and accommodating—even sweet, if you count him bringing me the foods I craved. I mean, buying me tampons was a little weird, but I guess if he never had sisters, I could see why he thought that might be what you do.
But this is constantly how my relationship with Nate goes. I’m quick to jump to conclusions without giving him the benefit of the doubt, like assuming the shower thing was his fault when I’m mostly to blame.
I keep having these moments where my prejudices come to light, and I feel stupid for my intolerance, like when the car in front of you in a parking lot suddenly stops, and you don’t know what they’re doing or why they’re taking so long to move. And just when you’re about to lay on your horn, you see a person on crutches hobble out of the passenger side and wave at you for being kind enough to wait for them to get out.
That’s me right now, realizing how I’ve unnecessarily judged Nate without having all the information.
I don’t want to do that anymore.
* * *
I can’t shake Nate’s aunts from my side.
All through dinner and the fire show, they’ve been glued to me—talking, talking, talking.
There are some benefits to their yapping. I found out Nate couldn’t say his Rs as a child, he’s very docile and loving when coming out of anesthesia, and he was the student body president in high school. It’s not earth-shattering information, but it's still a fun glimpse into the real Nate Farnsworth.
My eyes scan the lounge, looking for him until I find him sitting at the bar with the company's vice president.
“Vicky,” I say, cutting his aunt off mid-sentence. “I see Nate at the bar. Do you mind if I go join him?”
“Of course, honey.” Her smile widens as she turns her focus to the bar.
“We don’t want to keep the lovebirds apart.” Aunt Gina bounces her shoulders with a giggle.
“We’ll talk later,” I say as I walk away.
Samorn stops me on the way to the bar, checking to see if we’re ready for the DJ and disco lights to start. I glance at my phone for the time. It’s almost ten p.m.
“Yes, let’s get the after-party started.” We discuss a few more things before I head for the bar again. But instead of talking to the VP, Nate is talking with Isaac. I hang to the side, hiding behind some speakers so neither of them notices me, but I can hear their conversation.
“Why don’t you work for your dad at Pureskin?” Isaac asks. “I’m sure you’d make a lot more than you do being a travel sales executive.”
I recognize Isaac’s condescending tone, because that’s how he used to talk to me.
“My dad’s money is coming down to me someday whether I want it or not, so why make myself miserable doing a job I hate?”
“And I guess if you worked at Pureskin, you wouldn’t get to work with Carly anymore.”
Nate nods in response.
“So, how long have you and Carly been dating?” Isaac takes a sip of his drink, trying to appear indifferent.
“Not too long, but you know, I had a crush on her from day one. I just had to convince her to like me back.”
I lean in, even more invested than before. A crush on day one. Yeah, right. Another Golden Globe-worthy performance.
“So you’re not that serious. Like, haven’t met the whole family yet?”
“No, Carly took me home to her house.” Technically, it's not a lie. “I mean, who doesn’t love little Caroline? And her brother Cooper was really cool. Cade, too.”
A smile creeps across my lips as Nate lists off the names of my siblings. I have no clue how he remembered them. Probably just saying names that start with a C and hoping for the best, but his effort warms my heart in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
“So you have met her family, then?”
“Yep.” Nate nods a few times. “All ten of them. Twelve, if you count her parents. The Cattersons are great, but I’m sure you already know that.”
“Well”—Isaac fidgets—“I only met her sister, but Carly told me about her family. They’re a lot. ” He says it with disdain, which isn’t a surprise. Isaac never wanted to meet my family, and I was too worried I’d be embarrassed of them to push the subject. But standing here now, I realize I don’t care about what Isaac thinks of me or my family.
“Yeah, a lot of fun. I love the chaos and the craziness they bring to the table. Where else can you find that many people who have your back no matter what? That’s why big families are awesome. It’s a built-in support system through life. Carly is lucky to have them in her corner.”
My breath catches. Nate’s view of my family is far different than mine. They’re just made-up words meant to put Isaac in his place, but still, there’s a truth to them, a revelation I’ve been unwilling to see.
He’s right. In a lot of ways, I’m lucky to have my large family. I know, without a doubt, that if I really need them, my parents and my siblings would be there for me. When it really counts, they’re the people in my corner. Perhaps I’ve been too hard on them, especially my parents. I’m reminded once again that I can try harder to patch things up with my family. Maybe it’s something I can work on when I get home.
Nate shrugs, lifting his glass to toast Isaac’s. “But honestly, man, I have to thank you for being the idiot who gave Carly up. She’s incredible. She’s smart, driven, witty, and so much fun to be around. I’ve never met a woman like her. She’s the entire package.”
I know Nate’s acting, or lying, or whatever you want to call it.
I know that.
But his words melt my heart whether I hate him or not.
“Your loss is my gain.” He pats Isaac on the back, disguising the patronizing move as kindness. “Anyway, I’m going to go find Carly. So, I’ll see you around.”
Isaac nods, forcing a smile that doesn’t do a good job of hiding his jealousy. He throws his head back, finishing his drink in one gulp before leaving.
I stay in the shadows for a few more seconds, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. But one thing is clear: I’m benefiting more from this fake relationship than Nate is. I need to up my game.
It’s time I return the favor.
I find Nate sitting at a table with his parents. I draw in a determined breath, trying to alleviate the sudden nerves taking over my body, which doesn’t make sense. I don’t even like Nate. What’s there to be nervous about?
“There you are.” I slide into the booth, leaning in to kiss his cheek. My hand rests awkwardly on his stomach when I aimed for his chest, and my lips hit his jaw more than his cheek, but at least I’m trying. There’s the brief thought that I need to raid his suitcase for the name of his cologne to purchase and spray it all over the next man I date.
“Hey.” Nate pulls back, eyeing me with amusement. “You good?”
“Yep.” I loop one hand through his arm, and the other goes to his thigh—upper/inner thigh, if we’re being specific. I blame my nerves for the miscalculated hand placement. The immediate skyrocket of Nate’s brows has me lifting my fingers and moving them to just above his knee.
Much better.
That is until Nate’s hand moves to my thigh. Now I’m rethinking everything: how this touch is beneath the table, making it unnecessary; how his hand sends a rush of heat down my leg; and how my heart feels heavier in my chest. I can’t react because his mom is watching me.
“We were just talking about you.” Connie beams, loving how I’ve cuddled up to her son.
“Hopefully, good things.” I notice how Mack Farnsworth is more focused on his phone than the conversation.
“Of course,” Connie answers for the table. “We were just telling Nate how much we love seeing the two of you together. There’s a spark there.”
“You think?”
“Oh, yes. I know my son, and I can see what’s happening.”
“Mom, we don’t need your commentary.” Nate shakes his head, but I turn to him with a grin.
“I think it’s only fair we let her speak.” Especially after the embarrassing torture I’ve experienced this afternoon.
“I see how Nate looks at you when you don’t know he’s watching you.”
He inclines his head. “Mom.”
But she just laughs and keeps going. “He has completely fallen for you.”
“Mom.”
“More than I’ve ever seen him fall for any other woman.”
“Mom!” This time, he gives her a look that says, Stop talking.
“Okay, okay. I know how it goes when you’re newly dating. Nobody wants to define these things yet. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just thought you should know that you two are headed to exciting places.” She lifts her hand, pretending to zip her mouth shut.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m not uncomfortable.”
Yes, I am. I’m so uncomfortable. But good manners made me lie. Again.
“I’m uncomfortable,” Nate mutters. I can’t help but notice the blush on his cheek as he leans forward to sip his drink.
Nate with a blush is a visual I never want to leave my mind.
But now I’m thinking about why he was blushing in the first place. Is he embarrassed about lying to his mom when she’s clearly so invested in our fake relationship, or is he embarrassed about something else entirely?
The DJ makes his first announcement, introducing himself and welcoming all the Pureskin employees. The disco lights flicker as he invites everyone to the dance floor. A familiar beat starts to play, drawing people out of their chairs to the middle.
“Mack?” Connie tugs on his arm. “Should we go dance?”
He doesn’t even look up from his phone. “When have I ever wanted to dance?”
“Maybe you could tonight,” Nate says. “For Mom.”
His eyes flick over his reading glasses and land on Nate. “You’re the one in the family that likes to have fun instead of work. Why don’t you dance with your mother?”
Nate opens his mouth, but I beat him to it.
“Mack, you’re kind of a jerk. Connie won’t tell you that, and neither will Nate. But I will. You have a wife and a son who are both amazing. You should probably start treating them with the respect they deserve.” My lips press into a thin slash of a smile. I grab Nate’s hand and scoot out of the booth. “Come on, Connie. You can dance with us if you want.”
That’s me returning the favor.
I don’t look back as I drag Nate to the middle of the floor, but I feel his breath on my shoulder and neck as he leans in to speak over the music.
“You’re definitely not going to be favorite daughter-in-law after that.”
“Such a shame.” I face him, keeping his hand in mine. “Sorry if I crossed a line back there. I have a short fuse, then I say things I shouldn’t say.”
“I know.” His smile is full of amusement. “I’m usually on the receiving end of your short fuse. I like that trait about you—when it’s not directed at me. Being on this side is much better.”
“Do you think your mom will forgive me?”
“I think my mom loves you even more now.”
“Are you sure? Because I really like her and don’t want things to be awkward.”
“I’m sure.” He glances back to their table. “She’ll be out dancing with us in no time—once she smooths things over with my dad.”
I grimace, making Nate laugh.
“Come on, Catterson.” He gestures to the middle of the dance floor. “Let’s see your moves.”