Читать книгу A Pretend Proposal: The Fiancée Fiasco / Faking It to Making It / The Wedding Must Go On - Элли Блейк, Ally Blake - Страница 16

ELIZABETH hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but a little over two hours into their trip she dozed off. Before then she and Thomas hadn’t spoken much, other than to comment on the good weather—forecasters were calling for sunshine and warm temperatures through the early part of the following week—and go over a few details of the visit.

She missed their easy conversation, but keeping things all business was for the best. The lines of their relationship weren’t likely to become too blurry that way. So, she’d pulled out a magazine she’d brought with her and made a point of reading it. Or, rather, pretending to read it. Now that she was awake, she couldn’t recall a single article.

She straightened in her seat and stretched before sending a sheepish smile Thomas’s way.

“Sorry about that. I guess I drifted off.”

“That’s all right. You only snored a little.” He winked after saying so. She could only hope he was kidding.

“Where are we?”

“About fifteen minutes south of Charlevoix. I thought we’d visit with my grandmother a bit before checking in at the bed-and-breakfast where we’ll be staying.”

In separate rooms. He’d made that clear after she’d made a point of asking him about it via email. Still, they would be under the same roof and that was enough to have her nerves and newfound needs percolating on high.

Elizabeth had never been to Charlevoix. Though her family had moved around a lot during her childhood, they’d done so mainly in the much more populated southern part of the state. So, she stared out the window as they made their way down Bridge Street with its quaint assortment of shops and eateries, acting the part of the tourist. Thomas indulged her, pointing out a fudge shop and other sights of interest, and giving her some background. The vast expanse of Lake Michigan stretched to the west of the town. The much smaller Lake Charlevoix was to the east.

“It’s pretty here.”

“It is. Nana Jo likes it, even though the winters can be harsh.”

“She stays here year-round?”

“Yes.” He chuckled then. “She’s quite adamant that she’ll never become one of those snowbirds who flies to Florida before the first snowflake falls. She and my late grandfather had always planned to retire here. He died when I was six. Heart attack. She was still set on moving to Charlevoix eventually. She was already looking at places at the time of the accident. Then she put everything on hold.”

For him.

“Sorry about your grandfather,” Elizabeth murmured. Josephine O’Keefe had lost her husband and only child in the span of two years. It wasn’t only pity Elizabeth felt for the other woman, but admiration. She’d rolled up her sleeves and put her own plans on hold to raise a young, equally grief-stricken boy. “Your grandmother sounds like an amazing woman.”

Thomas glanced over. His hand left the steering wheel to give hers a gentle squeeze. “She is. You’re going to like her.”

Elizabeth didn’t need his reassurance. She already did, and it was a realization that made her all the more uneasy.

Nana Jo lived in a condominium complex not far from downtown, but only a short distance from the lake.

“Well, this is it,” Thomas said, pulling into the parking lot. He sounded every bit as nervous as Elizabeth felt when he asked, “Ready?”

“As I’m ever going to be,” she murmured.

She opened the car door before he had a chance to come around and do it for her, earning a frown. The day was warm, a fact the automobile’s air-conditioning had done a good job of camouflaging. The sun’s heat would have been unbearable if not for the stiff breeze blowing in off the lakes. It snatched at her neatly ordered hair and sent it flying around her face.

It also brought with it the appealing scents of summer, including the smoke from someone’s barbecue. Before she’d dozed off, Thomas had asked if she wanted to stop for a bite to eat. She’d told him no, that she wasn’t hungry. At the time she hadn’t been. Nerves had tied her stomach into knots and she had been eager to get to their final destination. Now, her stomach growled and she found herself wishing for the last-minute reprieve of a meal.

Before she could say so to Thomas, however, she heard a squeal of delight. She turned to see a stylish older woman with a short cap of silver hair bustling across the parking lot toward them with her smile stretching nearly as wide as her arms.

“Tommy!”

He hugged the woman back, picking her up off her feet in the process. Elizabeth smiled as she watched them and something inside of her shifted to boggy ground once again. What was it Mel always said? You can judge how a man will treat you by the way he treats his mother. Nana Jo wasn’t Thomas’s mother, but close enough that her friend’s pearls of wisdom applied. God help her.

“It’s good to see you, too,” he managed to respond after a moment.

Raw emotion thickened his voice, leaving no doubt as to the deep love Thomas had for his grandmother, the deep love they had for one another. Tragedy had made their bond all the stronger. Elizabeth admired it. She admired them for the way they obviously cherished it.

Two expectant gazes focused on her then. Showtime, she thought, wishing wildly, before she could catch herself, that the moment could be real. That she could be the love of Thomas’s life, brought home to meet the woman who’d raised him.

“And you’re Tommy’s Beth.”

Even if Elizabeth had had time to stick out a hand in a gesture of greeting, it wouldn’t have mattered. Nana Jo closed the distance between them in short order and pulled her into an embrace that, while not strong enough to break bones, thoroughly shattered Elizabeth’s preconceptions of Josephine O’Keefe as a frail octogenarian nearing the end of her days.

“H-h-hi.” The single syllable sputtered out along with Elizabeth’s breath as the woman rocked her side to side.

“Nana Jo, stop. You’ll crush her,” Thomas chided lightly when the embrace lengthened.

His grandmother pulled back on a robust laugh. “I’m sorry, my dear. It’s just that I’m so tickled to finally meet you. Tommy has told me so much about you.”

She patted Elizabeth’s cheek before grasping her lightly by the arms and taking a step back. Then she frowned.

“I have to admit, I pictured you a little differently.”

“Different h-how?” Elizabeth cast a nervous glance toward Thomas. What sort of description had he given her?

“I don’t know. Just … just thinking out loud and being insufferably rude,” she apologized.

“That’s not necessary. I can honestly say you’re not quite how I pictured you, either.” If Nana Jo’s health was failing it sure didn’t show.

“It’s just that you’re such a tiny thing,” mused Nana Jo, who stood half a head taller and had a more substantial build. She smiled at Thomas. “The breeze coming off Lake Michigan will blow her away if you’re not careful to keep a tight hold on her, Tommy.”

“I plan to do just that.”

His smile was as warm as the gaze he sent Elizabeth. Though the words were said for his grandmother’s benefit, Elizabeth’s breathing hitched and she smiled back.

Nana Jo grinned as well, before demanding of herself, “Goodness, where are my manners? You must think me a horrible hostess, Beth, waylaying you in the parking lot like this.” She winked from behind a pair of red-rimmed bifocals. “I plead guilty to watching for your arrival from my windows and then hurrying down here the minute I spotted you, too eager to wait for you to ring the doorbell. Pop open the trunk of that fancy car of yours, Tommy. Let’s get your bags and go inside where we can all sit down and have a proper visit. I just made a fresh pitcher of iced tea and some cookies.”

Elizabeth could see where Thomas had learned his polite ways, but that wasn’t what had her casting an urgent glance in his direction.

“I—I thought we were staying at a bed- and-breakfast in town, Thomas?”

“We are.” Both his expression and tone were apologetic when he told his grandmother, “I’ve booked rooms for Elizabeth and I at the Daniels Cottage over on Edgewater, Nana.”

“We didn’t want to impose,” Elizabeth explained.

Nana Jo made a tsking sound and waved one hand impatiently. “Impose? Nonsense! It’s no imposition. Of course you’ll stay here. I have plenty of space.” To Thomas she said, “Beth will sleep in the guest room. I put fresh linens on the bed just this morning.”

“Where will I be sleeping?” Thomas asked innocently. But Elizabeth thought she caught a dash of the devil in his otherwise angelic expression.

“On the couch,” Nana Jo retorted. “I’m too old-fashioned to agree to let you sleep in the same room with Beth, whether she’s your fiancée or not.”

She winked again at Elizabeth, who felt her face catch fire.

“Really, that’s very kind. But I … we couldn’t put you out like that,” Elizabeth began. “Besides, Thomas already made the reservations.”

It was a weak argument that Nana Jo dismantled easily. “He can unmake them. If the owner gives you any trouble, Tommy, I’ll talk to him. I know Ned and Estelle from church.” Lowering her voice, she added, “Estelle is on the list to bring dessert for funeral lunches, but we never put her rum cake out. She’s a little too liberal with the libations, if you know what I mean.”

“But—”

“Not another word. I won’t have it any other way. You’re all but family now, my dear, and family is never a bother. Tell her, Tommy.”

Before Elizabeth could object further, Thomas said, “Arguing won’t do you any good, I’m afraid.”

He put an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. She jolted at his touch, but didn’t pull away. She’d promised him that she wouldn’t. She hadn’t promised to snuggle closer, though. She did so automatically, reeled in by the scent of his cologne. When she felt him drop a light kiss on the top of her head, she came to her senses. It was all for show, she reminded herself, even if they were attracted to one another. Ultimately, nothing real and lasting would come of it.

“He comes by his stubborn streak honestly, Beth. He gets it from me,” Nana Jo claimed proudly. “Now let’s see to your bags.”

Thomas shrugged helplessly and mouthed an apology to Elizabeth. Even though they had decided to leave a day early, the weekend had just gotten much, much longer.

Nana Jo’s condo was on the top floor. Despite their protests, she insisted on carrying Elizabeth’s suitcase the entire time, not even setting it down during the short elevator ride. Thomas would have to have another chat with her doctor, he decided, and find out exactly what she should and shouldn’t be doing. He knew better than to think he would get a straight answer from her. Stubborn streak, indeed. Hers was a mile wide.

Still, he was relieved to see her looking so healthy, not to mention so damned happy. She hadn’t stopped grinning since their arrival. Thomas pushed away the twinge of guilt he felt for deceiving her. So far, the result was worth it.

She waved Elizabeth inside the condo, though she left it to Thomas to hold open the door. She patted his cheek on the way inside. The place was every bit as welcoming as she was, with the multitude of homey touches he remembered. Even though he hadn’t grown up here, he’d spent enough time in the condo that he never felt like a guest.

Today, it smelled like a bakery thanks to a batch of fresh-from-the-oven cookies that were warming on the kitchen counter—chocolate chip, his favorite. He’d never brought home a woman before, but this was pretty much what he’d expected the reception to be. Nana Jo had pulled out all of the stops in an effort to make Elizabeth feel welcomed and comfortable. He eyed the couch sourly. Oh, yes. She’d thought of everything all right.

“If you want to freshen up, Beth, the guest bath is just down the hallway,” Nana Jo was saying. “I’ve put out towels and a washcloth for you. If you need anything else or can’t find something, don’t hesitate to ask.”

The grand tour didn’t take long. Nana Jo’s condo wasn’t very large, even if it felt that way thanks to its open floor plan. In addition to two bedrooms and two full baths, it boasted an eat-in kitchen that was separated from the living room by a large, granite island.

He reached for one of the cookies on his way past, only to have his hand swatted away by Nana Jo, who barely glanced in his direction and never broke stride. The woman still had eyes in the back of her head.

“This is where you’ll stay, Beth. Tommy, you can leave your bag in here for now so that we’re not tripping over it in the living room.”

“Gee, how very generous of you,” he grumbled good-naturedly.

“You haven’t canceled your reservation at the bed-and-breakfast yet, if the accommodations here aren’t to your liking,” she reminded him tartly as one brow arched over the top rim of her bifocals. He could only chuckle, especially since Elizabeth was trying to tuck away a grin.

When they reached the guest room, he stopped at the door after the women continued inside. After setting his luggage in the corner, he leaned against the jamb and watched Elizabeth take in the inviting floral comforter that covered a queen-sized bed. Coordinating curtains flapped at the large, open window that let in a breeze that made air-conditioning obsolete even on a day as warm as this one.

“I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable in here. The room is lovely, Mrs. O’Keefe.”

“It’s Nana Jo, dear. And thank you.” His grandmother wagged a finger in his direction then. “Tommy complains that it’s too feminine for his liking.”

“I feel like I’m sleeping in a posey patch, but it suits you, Elizabeth.” He managed to sound lighthearted, even though he was picturing her on the bed, surrounded by the comforter’s fussy floral print and wearing nothing but a couple of scraps of pink lace. On a groan he spat out a mild oath.

“Tommy! Your language,” Nana Jo admonished. “I raised you better than that. What on earth are you thinking?”

What was he thinking? He glanced at Elizabeth. Her eyes were wide, alert and, unless he missed his guess, full of interest. She moistened her lips, exhaled slowly. God help them both, she knew exactly what was on his mind.

While Elizabeth took his grandmother’s suggestion and freshened up, Thomas helped Nana Jo carry out a tray of refreshments to the balcony that opened up off the living room. Large pots in the corners overflowed with bright red geraniums. Beyond the white wooden railing, Lake Michigan stretched as far as the eye could see. It was the kind of view one never tired of seeing. Even in the winter, when parts of the big lake froze and huge rafts of ice, pushed ashore by wind and waves, bounded the coast, the view was mesmerizing.

“It’s a gorgeous day,” he said.

“And yours is a gorgeous girl. I like your Beth, Tommy.” She poured three large glasses with iced tea and set a small plate of lemon wedges and a sugar bowl in the center of the scrolled iron table.

“I thought you would.” He managed to purloin a cookie this time without getting his hand smacked.

“I still don’t understand why it’s taken you so long to finally bring her to see me.” Her tone held reproach.

“I’m sorry I put you off for so long. Things were crazy at work and then, well, I just wanted to be sure.” He’d told her similar things several times in the past. This time they seemed less like an excuse.

“And are you?”

The pat answer he planned never made it past his lips. Instead, he walked to the rail, his gaze trained on a couple of sailboats that were nothing but white dots on a cloudless blue horizon.

“I’ve never met anyone quite like Elizabeth,” he said slowly, honestly. “I like being around her, spending time with her. The more I learn, the more I want to learn.”

“You almost sound surprised.”

“More like amazed.” He took a bite of the cookie, turned and worked up a grin for her benefit. “She likes Alfred Hitchcock movies.”

Nana Jo chuckled. “I see now what clinched the deal for you. That genre of film isn’t for everyone.”

“Actually, we have quite a bit in common, more than I expected.”

“Well, that’s what happens when you stop dating women who are all wrong for you.”

He smiled since it was expected and finished the cookie, nearly choking on the last bite when his grandmother added, “Love has a way of finding us, Tommy. Even if we never look for it. Maybe especially when we don’t.”

Elizabeth joined them just as his coughing fit was subsiding. As soon as she stepped out onto the balcony, the breeze made a mockery of the time she’d spent returning her hair to its sleek bob. While she tucked it behind both ears, he rose from his seat and pulled out her chair, earning a nod of satisfaction from his grandmother.

“I’m so glad to finally have a chance to meet you, dear,” Nana Jo said.

Just as he had, Elizabeth bypassed the sugar bowl and selected a wedge of lemon, which she squeezed into her glass.

“I’m enjoying meeting you, too. Thomas has told me a lot about you.” Elizabeth smiled. “All of it good.”

“Tommy, what have I told you about fibbing?” Nana Jo scolded, albeit teasingly.

Elizabeth looked uncomfortable despite her smile, but he had to hand it to her. She was managing to be completely honest with his grandmother despite the big white elephant of a lie sharing space with them on the small balcony.

“Tommy tells me you like Alfred Hitchcock.”

“I do.”

“And she plays poker, Nana Jo. She and some friends get together regularly.” He sipped his tea. “No cigars but they sometimes talk sports.”

“Really?” Nana Jo’s eyes lit up. “I belong to a bridge club, but I always wanted to try my hand at five-card stud. Maybe you could teach me sometime?”

“Sure.”

“You have to watch her, Elizabeth. My nana is a cardsharp.”

They laughed and the conversation flowed freely until Nana Jo asked, “Why don’t you tell me a little bit about your family? I haven’t managed to get much out of Tommy on the subject. But then you know how men are. They’re stingy when it comes to offering details.”

“My family?” Elizabeth took her time sipping her tea. “There’s not much to tell, really. I, um, I had a pretty typical childhood.”

Interesting, Thomas got the feeling she was lying now. But after what she’d told him about tofu shish kebabs, he could see why she might want to shade the truth. Not that his grandmother would care one way or another what her parents’ diet preferences were. He certainly didn’t.

“You’re in Ann Arbor now, I know, but where did you grow up?”

“Oh, here and there in southeast Michigan.” The answer was as vague as the one she’d written on her “resume.”

“It sounds like your family moved around lot,” Nana Jo said. “Your father’s job?”

Elizabeth sipped her tea. “More or less.”

“And you have an older sister.”

“A younger brother,” Thomas and Elizabeth said at the same time.

“My goodness, I am getting old,” Nana Jo said. “Somehow I managed to get that completely backward.”

She sent Elizabeth a bemused smile that took a calculating turn when it reached Thomas. Uh-oh. He knew that look. Nana Jo sensed something was afloat.

“So, how old is your brother?” Nana Jo picked up the plate of cookies and held it out for Elizabeth.

She selected one. “Ross is twenty-six.”

“Is he married or engaged?”

“No. I … We don’t see one another often.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. You must miss him.”

“I do. Terribly.”

Nana Jo made a sympathetic noise and patted the back of Elizabeth’s hand. “Does he live out of state?”

“Yes. He … travels a lot. He hasn’t been back to Michigan in years.”

“Then your wedding will be a reunion as well. Will he be standing up?” Nana Jo asked. Nodding in Thomas’s direction, she complained, “That one there won’t tell me anything about the ceremony preparations. He won’t even give me the date.”

“Because we haven’t decided yet,” Thomas inserted hastily. “With our work schedules and such, it’s not as easy as throwing a dart at a calendar.”

“Well, surely you have some inkling of the number of groomsmen you’re planning.”

He glanced helplessly at Elizabeth. “I could ask Ross to be a groomsman.”

“No!” She looked stricken. “I’m sorry.”

“Or not.”

Elizabeth apologized a second time. Her face was flushed. Her expression miserable. “I haven’t mentioned this before, Thomas, but I don’t know where Ross is.” Her gaze shifted to his grandmother. “My brother left—ran away from home, actually—when I was in college. He quit school and just … left.”

“And you haven’t heard from him since then?” Thomas asked.

“Personally, no.”

“I’m sorry,” Nana Jo said softly.

Thomas was more than sorry. He felt culpable in forcing the admission. He reached for her hand and knitted their fingers together before bringing it to rest against his heart. “Elizabeth, I had no idea.”

She allowed the contact for a moment before pulling her hand free, ostensibly to push her breeze-blown hair back from her face. “I don’t talk about it often.”

“But I’m guessing you think about him and worry every day,” Nana Jo said sympathetically.

“I do.”

“That’s the way Tommy is about his father.”

He blinked in surprise. He hadn’t seen the switch in subjects coming. Caught off guard. he retorted sharply, “I don’t give a damn where he is or what he’s doing as long as he isn’t on my doorstep looking for more money so he can pay off his bar tab.”

“Thomas Jonathon Waverly!”

The use of his full name pulled him up short, just as it always had when he was a child.

“I’m sorry.” He expelled a breath and turned to Elizabeth and repeated his apology.

“It’s forgotten,” she said.

“Nothing is forgotten.”

Their gazes held until a gust of wind sent paper napkins flying off the table. He and Elizabeth both rose to fetch them before they could be carried over the rail.

“I should have brought a headband,” she remarked, shoving her wayward hair back from her face and settling into her seat once more.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Reminding himself it was expected for him to touch her, he gave in to temptation and brushed a stray tendril off of her forehead. “I like it loose like this and a little disheveled.”

“Why?” She glanced at his grandmother before laughing uncomfortably. “I mean, I look a mess.”

“Hardly, my dear,” Nana Jo said. “You’re too pretty to look anything of the sort.”

Recalling how Elizabeth had disagreed with him the one time he’d called her pretty, Thomas half expected her to do so now. He told himself he only was forestalling her argument when he leaned over and, in a voice barely above a whisper, said, “I like it this way because it reminds me of how it looked after I had my hands in it the other night.”

He was close enough to hear her breath hitch. He was smug enough to like it. He decided to press his advantage—for Nana Jo’s benefit, of course—and kissed the corner of Elizabeth’s mouth. Both women sighed afterward.

Nana Jo, however, had a bone to pick.

“I would remind you that it’s rude not to speak loud enough so that everyone at the table can hear you, Tommy.”

“Sorry.” But he flashed a cocky grin that had her pursing her lips.

Still, Nana Jo accepted the apology with a nod. Then she was grinning as well. “Based on Beth’s very becoming blush, I gather that whatever you whispered in her ear wasn’t fit for mine anyway.”

Elizabeth laughed weakly. “Still, he is being rude.”

She tried to tame her hair again, even though the breeze had other plans for it. The blush staining her cheeks was, as his grandmother said, becoming. Pretty? No. At that very moment, he thought her beautiful. Inside of him, something shifted with all the subtlety of an earthquake. It was a good thing he was seated or he might have wound up losing his balance.

Especially when Nana Jo added, “Yes, but that’s what happens when a man’s in love. He forgets everything including his manners.”

This made twice his grandmother had used the L-word. His breath caught in his throat. Hell, he could hardly drag enough of it into his lungs, until he reminded himself that he wanted his grandmother to think he was in love. The fact that she did simply meant he was playing his role superbly.

Kudos to me, he decided sourly. If his business ever folded maybe there was a career waiting for him in Hollywood.

“Are you all right?” Elizabeth asked, looking concerned as she laid a hand on his arm.

“Allergies.” He coughed for effect. “Must be a lot of tree pollen in the air around here or something.”

Something being the operative word.

Nana Jo frowned. “Tommy, you don’t have—” She broke off abruptly then. “Goodness, Beth, where’s your engagement ring?”

Thomas would have appreciated his reprieve more if his freedom from the frying pan hadn’t landed him in the fire. He knew where the ring was. It was exactly where he’d left it, in the pocket of the herringbone jacket that was still in Elizabeth’s possession. He cursed himself for the oversight. Meanwhile, Elizabeth looked stricken.

“I … I …” She sent him a panicked look.

“It’s being sized.” He reached for her left hand and caressed its knuckles with the pad of his thumb. Her fingers were so small and delicate that the lie was believable. His mother’s ring never would have fit without a jeweler’s adjustment.

“I see.”

Nana Jo’s gaze made him nervous. When he was a kid, Nana Jo always seemed to be one step ahead of him. But surely she didn’t suspect.

She kept him guessing with her next question.

“I’ll have to settle for a description, then. What does it look like, Beth?”

Elizabeth appeared to be the one suffering a bout of something now. The blush of a moment ago was gone along with most of her color.