“Don’t be silly. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He plopped down on the leather couch. “Besides, I need to talk to you.”
She eyed him suspiciously. What was he up to? “What about?”
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “This.” He tossed it on the coffee table.
She scooped it up and unfolded it, quickly scanning the scrawled words. “A dating contract? You’re crazy if you think I would ever agree to this.” She couldn’t believe he still thought she would agree to be his faux girlfriend. She thrust the contract back at him.
“It’s more than fair.” He smiled. “Besides, it’s already September. Isn’t the wedding in three months? Do you really think if you open a business and move, you’re going to have time to find a suitable date?”
Violet scowled. Amber had texted her this morning to see if she wanted her invitation to be for “Violet Matthews and guest” or not. “First of all, I haven’t made up my mind about moving. And second of all, what makes you think you’re so suitable?”
He laughed. “Man, you really don’t like me.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Don’t you think we could let bygones be bygones, at least until January? I mean…we’re in the same age bracket, both intelligent, reasonably attractive, and neither looking for a real relationship. What more do we need?”
“Reasonably attractive?” She couldn’t decide how offended to be.
He gave her a sideways glance. “You fishing for a compliment?”
She didn’t respond. How bad would the next few months of her life be if she agreed to this? She wasn’t sure they’d make it through without killing one another. “Not at all. I assume you were talking about yourself when you said reasonably attractive.”
Jackson grinned. “Come on. It will be one less thing you have to do. And frankly, one less thing that I have to do. My sister and friends are on my case. If I could just get them to back off for a few months, I could breathe easy.”
“And then what?”
“We stage a breakup. Nothing that makes either of us look bad though. Maybe we don’t see eye to eye on something important.” He motioned at Arnie. “Like what to do with your inside dog.”
She thought for a moment. “Fine. Let me see the contract.” She held her hand out.
“It’s pretty straightforward,” Jackson began. “Four months. Thirty dates.”
“That’s too many.”
He sighed. “Twenty-five dates and three weekend trips.”
She widened her eyes. “Trips? Seriously?”
Jackson nodded. “We want to make this believable, right? One trip to Fayetteville for a Razorback football game. One trip to Memphis to see my sister.” He grinned. “The other can be your choice.”
She shook her head. “Twenty-five dates and a football game in Little Rock instead. Then one trip to your sister’s.”
“Tough negotiator.”
“I’m a lawyer.” She tapped the paper. “And what is this about professional events?”
“My office Christmas party in early December. And I’ll attend one event of your choice.”
She met his gaze. “Fine. What else?”
“Holidays. Specifically Christmas and Thanksgiving. We’ll do Thanksgiving with my family. Christmas with yours.”
She shook her head. “Yes to Thanksgiving. No to Christmas. It would be too soon for me to take a guy home for Christmas.”
He stood up and grabbed a pen from the end table. “Fine.” He took the paper from her and scribbled a note in the margin. “Now for the fun one.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“Time to negotiate our physical relationship.” He grinned.
Violet’s face flamed. If Jackson Stratford thought they were going to have any kind of physical relationship, he was dead wrong. “There is nothing to negotiate.”
His blue eyes danced. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Jackson couldn’t believe she’d gone for it. He’d fully expected his plan to be rejected again. But she’d at least semi-agreed. “No couple who dates for four months isn’t going to at least hold hands and kiss a little. We aren’t Quakers.”
She crossed her arms. “Not a chance.”
Jackson sighed and walked over to where she stood. “Come on, Violet. Hear me out. I’m not proposing we make out like teenagers every chance we get. This would be very dignified and would only make our relationship more believable.”
Violet shook her head. “No way.”
“Five kisses. One at each of our big events and three just for fun.” He grinned at the scowl on her pretty face. She was so much fun to mess with.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t kiss for sport.”
“Fine. Three. One at each event and one that can be our first kiss story. You know…to keep it legit.”
Violet’s green eyes flashed. “You are incorrigible.”
“Do people really use that word in sentences?”
“I just did, so I guess so. Why? Do I need to get you a dictionary? I know you’re used to dealing with bubble heads, so maybe I’m too advanced for you.” She smiled. “I’ll try and dumb it down from now on.”
“You exasperate me.” He winked. “See what I did there? Maybe I don’t need that dictionary after all.”
She glared. “Do you have no concept of personal space?”
Jackson hadn’t realized it, but he’d been moving closer and closer to her. He took a long look at her full lips. He could just kiss her now. Take her by surprise. Of course she’d probably hit him and toss him out. “Guess not.” He smiled and took a step back. “Seriously though. I’m not just being some typical guy, trying to take advantage of you. I’m just saying, if we’re going to pull off a faux relationship, we’re going to have to make it look real. That means holding my hand and hugging me sometimes. I know it repulses you, but surely you can handle it.” He didn’t want to mention that he was kind of looking forward to knowing if her lips were as soft as they looked.
“So this relationship would have everything but—”
“But feelings.” He cut her off. “No strings. No commitment after January. We’ll just mutually part ways and continue along our separate paths.” He grinned. “But we agree not to tell anyone. At all. No one.”
She frowned. “So I’m supposed to let my best friend think this is real?”
“Only way it works is for us to keep it between the two of us. Oh, and I’ll need you to change your Facebook relationship status.”
She groaned and sank onto the couch. “I can’t believe I’m considering this.”
Jackson sat down next to her. “There’s nothing to lose. You and I are a terrible match, and we both know it. For one, I’d never have an inside dog.” His eyes landed on a pile of notebook paper she’d scribbled on and an empty Dr Pepper bottle. “And I’m much neater than you are.”
“There are plenty of things I don’t like about you, too. Don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened in college. And I don’t care if it was eleven years ago. You made a fool out of me. Not only did I graduate a semester late thanks to the incomplete we got on that project, but Clay Wells broke up with me because of you.”
Jackson had hoped she’d forgotten that. “I was a jerk and I know it.” He put a hand on her arm. “And if it helps, you dodged a bullet with Clay. I heard he lives somewhere out West and is a rodeo clown.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“I’m not making it up.” He chose not to mention that Clay was also a doctor by day. “I’m not the guy I used to be. I’ve learned a lot of lessons since then. Just give me a chance.” He grinned and hoped his charm still worked. “I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you could ever hope to have.” He stuck a hand out. “Do we have a deal?”
Violet hesitated, the uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Add moving to the list.”
“What?” he asked.
She tapped the paper in his hand. “I think my fake boyfriend will be glad to h
elp me move all my stuff from Little Rock to Hot Springs. Especially the heavy stuff.”
He was pretty sure he saw the hint of a smile in her eyes, but couldn’t be positive. “Fine. So, deal?”
Violet took a breath. Finally, she extended her hand. “Deal.”
Jackson took her hand and shook it firmly. This might go down as the greatest idea he’d ever had.
He ignored the niggling thought that it could also be a disaster.
Violet would help him get Lauren, Jeff, and Kathleen off his back. And maybe she’d help take his mind off his mom’s newfound dating life.
Only time would tell.
Chapter 12
Reagan McClure: JUST LISTENED TO YOUR VOICE MAIL—OR WAS THAT SOMEONE PRETENDING TO BE YOU? MOVING. DINNER WITH JACKSON. WHAT HAPPENED TO THE VIOLET I KNOW??? (Text message sent September 9, 2:23 p.m.)
Violet Matthews: I NEEDED TO TALK IT OUT WITH YOU, BUT COULDN’T GET YOU ON THE PHONE. SORRY FOR THE FRANTIC MESSAGE. I DECIDED TO GO FOR IT WITH THE BAKERY! AND I FOUND AN AWESOME HOUSE FOR RENT. DINNER WITH JACKSON WAS A FLUKE. I THINK. (Text message sent September 9, 2:39 p.m.)
Reagan used to be the kind of person who never missed her Sunday afternoon nap. But it had been a long time since she’d had that luxury. “Good lesson at church this morning, don’t you think?” she asked Chad once the kids were down.
“Sure was.” He grinned. “Do you remember when I wanted to be a preacher?”
She nodded. “You would’ve been great.”
Chad sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. “Want to watch a movie or something?”
She knew if she sat down, she’d never get up until one of the kids woke. After two trips to the gym, she was so sore she could barely move. “I need to start on the laundry, and it would be great if you could stay here with the kids for an hour or so while I run to the grocery store.”
Chad groaned. “Why don’t you stay here now and go to the store later in the week?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Have you ever gone to the store with three kids? They take up most of the room in the cart, not to mention the inevitable meltdown Ava Grace has in the cereal aisle.”
“My mom would be glad to help out.” He raised an eyebrow. “You could call her to watch the kids while you go to the store.”
They had the same argument at least twice a week. “Or you could just stay with them for a little while today and let me go get the errands done. Then we won’t have to worry about it for at least another week.”
Chad clicked on the TV. “Fine.”
She grabbed her list and her purse and headed out the door. There had been a time when Sunday afternoons were for the two of them. Back when Izzy was a baby, they’d put her down for a nap and then lay on the couch and talk. No TV or anything. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Chad had only focused on each other.
As she backed out of the driveway, the phone buzzed against the console. She glanced at the caller ID and hit the SPEAKER button. “I guess congratulations are in order,” she said.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Violet’s voice filled the van. “Do you think it’s a mistake?”
Reagan laughed. “Not about the bakery. Maybe about dinner last night with Jackson Stratford.” The guy had done such a number on Violet back in college. Not only had his halfhearted effort on their project caused real problems for her in class, but he’d also insinuated that there was something going on between the two of them. Violet’s boyfriend at the time had totally bought it and dumped her. It had been a terrible summer for Violet as she made up the class and dealt with a broken heart. “I’m not sure I trust him.”
“It was just dinner,” Violet said. “I think maybe he’s trying to make up for some of the dumb stuff he did. Besides…people can change, right?”
Reagan didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed. Was Violet seriously interested in the guy? “I know that matchmaker said y’all should give things a shot, but she wasn’t there for you back when your world exploded and your heart was broken. I was. I’m just not sure it’s a smart move, that’s all.”
Violet didn’t say anything for a long moment. “But how about the bakery? Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“That one I’m totally behind. In fact, I’m very proud of you for going after your dream. It’s been a long time coming. And my offer to help with the logo and some of the design work stands.” She flipped on her blinker at the red light next to Sam’s Club. “Of course, you might have to house me and four kids for a few days while we work on things.”
Violet laughed. “Y’all are welcome to stay. Grandma would be happy to help with the kids. And Mrs. Kemp’s granddaughter probably would, too. She’s going to work in the bakery once it opens. I talked to her about it today after church. I think she’s super excited, but she’s too cool to show it.”
“The Goth girl? Are you sure that’s going to be good for business?”
“Oh, she’s not Goth anymore. Now she’s all sporty. Wears tennis skirts and ponytails. She even lightened her hair some.”
Reagan pulled into a parking space and turned off the van. “That’s quite a change, huh?”
“I can’t quite figure it out. She seems kind of lost. Drifting. I mean, my mom and I have certainly had our differences, but I can’t imagine having grown up without her.”
Reagan’s eyes filled with unexpected tears. The thought of her kids growing up without her guidance filled her with sadness. There were so many things she hoped to teach them someday. So many milestones she looked forward to sharing with them. “That’s tough. What about her dad?”
“Remarried, new baby. I get the impression that he doesn’t know what to do with her, and the stepmother tries too hard to be her friend and not an actual parent.”
Reagan hurried into the store. She figured she had thirty minutes before one of the kids woke up and Chad called to tell her to come home. “Maybe it’s good that she’ll be working with you. Sounds like she could use a good role model.”
Violet laughed. “I wouldn’t call myself that, but I did tell Mrs. Kemp I’d spend some time with Shadow—take her shopping, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds like a great plan. So what’s the deal with the bakery?”
“I can’t wait for you to see the place. It’s perfect. I’m working on a business plan right now, just trying to figure out what all needs to happen between now and an opening. I want to move on things as quickly as possible.”
“It does my heart good to hear how excited you are. I know how frustrated you’ve been, career-wise.”
“This might fail. It might be the worst decision ever. But I would always wonder what might’ve happened. You know? I’ve recently spent a lot of time praying and thinking about this, and I really feel like this is the best plan for me.”
“I’m so glad. And I’m excited about helping. I think it will do me some good to feel useful.”
“You are already useful and you know it. Your husband and kids would be lost without you.”
“You’re sweet to say so, but I don’t always feel that way.” She put a package of paper towels in the cart. “But the gym is going well.”
“What does Chad think about it?”
Reagan didn’t say anything. She hated to admit that she hadn’t told him yet. “He doesn’t exactly know.”
“You need to tell him. Secrets aren’t good.”
“I don’t know how successful this will be. I’m so sore today, it’s hard to walk. This morning I thought I was going to cry just trying to get Scarlett out of her car seat.”
“I’m pretty sure Chad will be thrilled that you’re doing something for yourself.”
Reagan let out a bitter laugh. “Chad is at home right now on the couch. I’m at the grocery store. If he were too concerned, wouldn’t he have offered to do the shopping?”
“No. You know that you have certain brands and certain ways you do things. Remember when we lived togeth
er and I bought the wrong kind of toothpaste? You’d have thought I’d committed a federal crime.”
“I’m not that bad. I just know what I like.”
Violet sighed loudly. “But wouldn’t it be easier to let him help you rather than feeling like you have to do it all yourself? Couldn’t you deal with a different brand of toilet paper or toothpaste if it meant your husband pitched in?”
Reagan didn’t answer for a long moment. “Are you trying to say I’m a control freak?”
“Maybe a little. You’ve tried to be Superwoman for so long that I’m sure Chad doesn’t think he could measure up to your expectations. Didn’t you tell me that you got mad at him over coffee creamer a few weeks ago?”
Reagan winced. She’d forgotten about that. “He got the wrong kind. I like a certain flavor.”
“Don’t you think you could deal with the wrong flavor if it meant you didn’t have to go to the store?”
“You don’t understand. We’ve been married for ten years. He should know what kind of coffee creamer I like. That’s the reason I get so upset. Because these things aren’t rocket science. I’ll bet you know my favorite coffee creamer flavor, don’t you?”
“Hazelnut.”
Reagan nodded. “Yep. How do you think it makes me feel that my husband can’t even pay enough attention to me to get that small detail correct? I’ve been drinking my coffee the same for years. He just doesn’t notice.”
“I’m sorry. I wish you’d talk to him and y’all would figure out a way to work on things. Maybe a marriage seminar or something.”
That would be the day. “I don’t think we’d be able to find the time for something like that. I just have to hope that when the twins get a little older, things will get easier.” It was what Reagan had to cling to these days. Because she couldn’t deal with the alternative.
Dear Mama,
I’m trying out for the tennis team. Can you believe it? I’ve been working with Chase and think I might really enjoy it. He says he’s going to play in college. Maybe I will, too.
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