Celeste sure liked watching Brad throw a football to his nephew on the beach. The man had muscles everywhere, and with his shirt off…it certainly was very hot at the beach that afternoon.
Thankfully, she could watch him while wearing sunglasses, so it wasn’t too terribly creepy. She applauded as his six-year-old nephew caught the ball, and then she glanced over to the sandcastle Lizzie had been working on for a long time.
She could learn a lot about a man as he interacted with kids, and Brad was fun, and kind, and patient. She knew nieces and nephews weren’t the same as one’s own children, but she sure did like the way Brad dealt with Tommy and Lizzie.
He eventually came back to the lounger she’d secured for him, and Tommy sat down on the towel beside him. “I’m hungry, Uncle Brad.”
“I’ll order from the kitchen,” Celeste said. “We have amazing nachos.”
“Nachos?” Brad asked, and Tommy looked like he’d just been told he’d get Christmas twice this year.
Celeste laughed and started tapping on her phone. Gwen might not like Teagan, but the man made Celeste whatever she wanted whenever she texted him. She hadn’t told Gwen that yet, but there was little her sister didn’t already know, especially if it happened in the kitchen at The Heartwood Inn.
And a big salad, she added to her text. “Lizzie, are nachos okay for you?”
“Yep,” she said.
“Brad?” Celeste asked.
“Will he make me a ham sandwich?”
“Of course.”
And a ham sandwich. She sent the text, and put her phone in her lap. She’d worn a different swimming suit today, as Brad had already seen the black, bedazzled two-piece. Her white one-piece with the V-neck that went down to her belly button was still pretty impressive, and Brad had pulled her close as soon as she’d come out of the inn and said, “You take my breath away.”
The feeling was mutual, and Celeste couldn’t believe that she’d managed to take their fake relationship to a real one, even if the road had been a little rocky.
The food came in record time, and Celeste sent Teagan a big tip and a quick thank you text before returning her attention to Brad and the kids.
She watched him, her mind churning down a road it probably shouldn’t even be on. He was a decade older than her, and she didn’t have a whole lot of childbearing years left.
“Brad?” she asked as Tommy wiped his hands on a napkin.
“Hmm?”
“Never mind,” she said quickly. They’d only been back together for a couple of weeks, and it was too soon to ask him about marriage.
“I’m going down to the water,” Tommy said.
“Stay close,” Brad said.
“I’m going with him,” Lizzie said.
“You don’t go in water deeper than your waist,” Brad said. “I mean it.”
“Okay.” The little girl slipped away, leaving Celeste with no reason not to have a serious talk with him.
“What were you going to say?” Brad asked, reaching over and lacing his fingers through hers.
“It’s…I was thinking about us,” she said.
“Good things?”
“Good things.” She glanced at him, the weight of his gaze on the side of her face too heavy for her to continue to ignore. “Marriage things.”
“Oh-ho.” He grinned at her. “What kind of marriage things?”
“I just was wondering…I mean, I’m only thirty-seven, but that’s not a lot of years to have kids.”
Brad just blinked at her.
“You know nothing about women, do you?” She laughed and swatted at his shoulder. He barely moved, because he was chiseled from rock and used to play professional football. Men his same size could barely move him.
He laughed and got up, crowding into her lounger with her. She let him, though there definitely wasn’t enough room for both of them. She settled against his side, his arm around her comforting and warm and making her tingle from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.
“I’ve thought about marriage,” he said. “But we don’t need to rush, necessarily.”
“What would be a rush?”
“I was hoping for a spring wedding in that outdoor wedding hall.”
Celeste tilted her head back and looked at him. “Will it be finished by then?”
“How long do you think it takes to build something?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, I am the only crew member, so it is going to go pretty slow. But spring is like, nine months away.”
Celeste focused back on the waves rolling in toward shore, where Tommy and Lizzy played in the surf. “I suppose nine months is long enough to plan a wedding.”
“Wait a second,” Brad said, “I haven’t asked you to marry me yet.” His muscles tensed, which meant he didn’t want to ask her to marry him right now. And frankly, Celeste was fine with that. She’d really only known him for a month.
But maybe their romance was written in the stars, and she didn’t need more time than that. She kept all of her thoughts under her tongue though, because Brad still seemed like he was having a hard time breathing.
“I should probably know your favorite color before we get engaged,” he said.
Celeste half-scoffed and half-laughed, the giggles winning as she started laughing fully. “I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“How would I know?”
“I wear this color more than any other.”
“Navy blue.”
She snuggled further into him, because he’d gotten it right. Brad was very observant about what she wore, and Celeste liked that. “You got it, quarterback.”
“I didn’t play quarterback,” he said.
“I know.” Celeste lifted his hand to her lips. “You played tight end, who is kind of like a receiver and kind of like a linebacker. You have to be fast, and strong, and amazing to play tight end.”
“Did you look that up online?” he asked.
She had, and she looked up at him again, smiling. “I’m a little uptight sometimes.”
“You are not,” he said, looking down at her with perfect soberness. “You’re wonderful, and smart, and beautiful, and talented, and organized, and you look amazing in navy blue pencil skirts, and white swimming suits.” His voice dropped to a whisper by the time he finished speaking.
Celeste grinned at him, feeling warm and like he really felt and believed everything he’d just said. “I’m falling in love with you,” she said.
“And I you.” He matched his mouth to hers, and the bossy, uptight Celeste would never have allowed a kiss in public like this. So maybe she really was who Brad said she was.
“Can you send a magic text and get ice cream out here?” he murmured against her lips. And she could—but first, she wanted to kiss him again. So she did that.
A month passed, and the outdoor wedding hall took shape. Walls went up, and Celeste watched the progress of it from her second-story window. She saw Brad all the time, obviously, but he didn’t talk much about the construction of it.
He worked a lot, managing his other sites and working on the wedding arena, and she ended up taking his dog full-time. Joey was a sweet dog, but Celeste didn’t exercise him as much as Brad had, and he’d taken to chewing some of Celeste’s most prized possessions—her shoes.
She’d just wrestled one of her pale pink wedges from the dog’s mouth when the doorbell rang. Frustrated and sweaty, she wiped her hair out of her face as she turned toward the door. She said nothing, because Brad would just come in, hopefully with a bag full of dinner.
Sure enough, he did, and he paused in the doorway. “He did it again.” He wasn’t asking this time, and his eyes dropped to the shoe she held in her hand. “Joey,” he said. “You’ve got to leave her shoes alone.” He closed the door, bringing the wonderful smell of fried chicken with him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll pay you back for those.”
“It’s fine,” she said, tossing the shoe toward the box where she
kept the dog toys. It was mostly full of shoes at this point, and she couldn’t be mad all the time. “It’s a shoe. Tell me that’s from Jack-Jack’s.”
“It is, and I got the brown gravy and the peppered gravy.” He smiled at her. “I’m really sorry about Joey. Should I take him back to the shelter?”
“No way,” Celeste said, bending to pat the mutt. “He just needs some obedience classes. Sit. Sit.” She pointed to the ground and straightened, and the dog sat. “See?”
Brad grinned and moved into the kitchen. “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
“I’ll bet. You started the day out in Mount Vernon Hills, right?” She followed him, glad when he took her into his arms and kissed her.
“Gross,” Gwen said, looking up from her coffee mug. “If there’s not a crispy chicken potato bowl in there for me, you’re never allowed in this house again.”
Brad stepped over to the bag and pulled out Gwen’s dinner. “For you, Gwenny.”
“I can’t believe I let you call me that.”
“You like it,” Brad said. “How are things in the kitchen?”
Gwen tossed a look at Celeste, who also wanted to know the answer to that question. Her sister was going through a tough patch with men right now, especially Teagan.
“Hot,” Gwen said with a smile.
“Is that a good hot or a bad hot?”
“It’s just hot.” She sat down at the kitchen table and took the lid off her bowl.
“Before we eat, I have a question,” Brad said.
Celeste pulled her fried chicken box out of the bag and glanced at him.
He’d fallen to both knees.
“Oh, my goodness,” she said, her words made of all air.
“Here it comes,” Gwen said, delighted.
“Celeste,” Brad said. “I’m in love with you. I know I’ve never said it out loud, but I’ve been feeling it more and more lately. I love you. I want to marry you in that outdoor wedding hall, and have a family with you, and take our kids to the nice beach every afternoon.”
Celeste started weeping, though she’d told herself a dozen times she wouldn’t. But she’d never been proposed to before, and he was so good, and so handsome, and so charming.
“Will you marry me?” he asked, reaching to open a drawer. A drawer right there in her kitchen.
“How long has that been there?” she asked as he pulled a black velvet ring box out of the drawer where she and Gwen kept their large kitchen utensils. “You kept a diamond ring with spatulas?”
“He’s asking you to marry him,” Gwen said. “Stop criticizing how he’s doing it.”
“I’m not criticizing how he’s doing it.”
“You haven’t answered,” Brad said, drawing her attention back to him. He opened the box to show a different ring than the one she’d worn previously. It was still huge, and still beautiful.
“Yes,” she said, reaching to cradle his face in both of her hands. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He grinned and swooped her into his arms, laughing as he twirled her around. “Great. Is eight months long enough to plan the wedding?”
“More than enough,” she said, looking right into those gorgeous eyes. “And I love you too, Bradley Keith.”
She kissed him then—her very real fiancé.
Read on for a sneak peek at the next book in the series, SHE LOVES HIM…NOT to meet the last Heartwood sister and the man she definitely does NOT want…
Woo hoo! I’m glad Brad and Celeste found a way to make their engagement real! If you are too, please leave a review here.
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Sneak Peek! She Loves Him…Not Chapter One
Gwen Heartwood paused just inside the doorway, the temperature in the kitchen almost hotter than outside. But that wasn’t why she’d stopped out of sight. No, that was so she could take a long, deep breath of the scented air.
It always smelled a little bit like Teagan’s cologne in the morning, before everyone else arrived and before the true cooking began. He beat her to work almost everyday, and she’d given up trying to be the first one in the kitchens at The Heartwood Inn. As far as anyone else knew, she was first and he second, as they all arrived after the two of them anyway.
Gwent tried to push the maddening man out of her mind as she rounded the corner and went into her office. He didn’t have one of those, and until a few months ago, they’d actually shared.
Shared a lot of things, actually.
A pang of sadness hit her, but she straightened her shoulders and pushed it away. Not today, she told herself. September had arrived, and it was time to get over Teagan Hatch. The end. Nothing more to it.
And for the first time in many weeks, Gwen actually thought she could do it. Her phone brightened with a text, but she ignored it. She knew who it would be from, and she wasn’t in the mood to converse with her sister quite yet.
She sighed as she scooped her hair up into a ponytail. She had a lot of pale blonde hair, but it was very fine, and her heart swooped as she realized how tiny of a ponytail she made. Celeste had gorgeous hair, but she hated how she had to baby it so much. Gwen had learned over the years that everyone hated their hair. Women with curly hair wanted it straight, and those with straight hair wanted it to curl.
So she wished she had more hair than she did, while one of her best friends hated how thick her hair was—especially in the summer.
Gwen looped the ponytail up again and secured it a second time to keep her hair out of the way for the day. She donned her white chef’s jacket, though she really just wanted to wear her T-shirt with a cartoon crab on the front.
But Teagan would be in his jacket, and by the way the air was now scented with onions and bacon, he’d already started the frittatas for their brunch buffet that morning. The hotel hosted dozens of conferences each year, and this breakfast buffet was for a small group of technology influencers staying at the hotel until Sunday.
She loved coming to work in the restaurant, but she sat down at her desk and pulled the schedule in front of her, so she’d look busy if someone came in. No one would. Everyone in the main kitchen knew exactly what time to arrive and exactly what to do once they did.
The outside door opened with its loud squeal, signaling the arrival of someone else. Gwen didn’t need to guess who it was. Gage Sanders had taken over as the head pastry chef about six weeks ago, and he almost beat Gwen to work some days.
He claimed it was because he didn’t sleep well, and Gwen was an early-riser too. Her sister, Sheryl, who was Gage’s girlfriend, was not. Neither was Celeste, and Gwen wished she could stay home until ten o’clock in the morning.
Out of all the sisters, only Olympia worked more than Gwen did, and honestly, she was tired.
Only thirty years old, and tired already. Alone, and tired.
The adjectives were only getting more negative, and Gwen derailed her train of thought before she started spiraling again.
Besides, she had a new prospect for a boyfriend. Celeste had hosted a Love to Forty tennis event for singles at the inn a few weeks ago, and Gwen had gone. She’d met a few men there, and she’d been going out with anyone who asked. One man had asked a few times, and Gwen didn’t entirely hate hanging out with Daniel Jenkins.
“He’s certainly not Teagan,” she muttered, immediately hating the words and wishing with everything in her that they weren’t true.
Unable to distract herself with mindless administrative tasks, she got up and went into the kitchen. Gage worked at his station, his hands sure and his movements precise though he had no formal culinary training.
Gwen had gone to culinary school, but she could appreciate raw talent when she saw it. And Gage had it, as even the guests had started to notice the different bakery items his mind had come up with.
Gwen had worried about her sister’s departure from the inn, but she now envied Alissa. Gwen didn’t want to leave the family business. Not reall
y. But she certainly needed a break. A vacation from her own life.
But she couldn’t have one today. No, today, she was on the room service orders, and she stepped over to the stainless steel counter where she’d put together the items the delivery waitresses needed.
Scrambling eggs and pouring juice was easy work, and she loved the tiny little salt and pepper shakers, miniature bottles of ketchup, and the smell of bacon and sausage that came from her station.
Once she completed those orders, she’d attend a meeting with Teagan, as it was Friday, and he had a house special for Redfin every weekend. As the executive chef, it was his job to make sure everyone knew about the items from his sous chefs to the waitresses.
“Eggs Benedict,” he called, and no one responded.
Gwen glanced around the kitchen, which had moved into its hot breakfast service for the bakery. Redfin, their on-site flagship restaurant, was only open for lunch and dinner, and Gage stocked all the baked goods in the bakery. But they also offered a short selection of hot items that Teagan made in between his other work, whether that be the catering or the meal prep for lunch and dinner.
Gwen stepped around her prep station and watched as Lilly, the petite brunette who’d put in the eggs Benedict order stood by the window, obviously trying to catch Teagan’s eye. She was Gwen’s opposite in every way, from the color of her hair to the curves she sported to how easily she could flirt with a man and walk away with a date.
Except for Teagan, obviously, as the man barely glanced at her. “We’ll get it done, Lilly,” he said.
She giggled, and Gwen rolled her eyes. “Do you need help?” she asked, trying not to focus on Teagan’s gorgeous hair. The color of wet sand, his hair hung around his face, and he sometimes smoothed it back into a manbun that left every female who saw him swooning.
Gwen included, unfortunately.
“I’m not sure where Gordon went,” Teagan said without looking at her. His voice took on a dead quality, almost a monotone. The same boring, and I’m-bored voice he’d been using with her in the kitchen since they’d broken up.
Not Her Real Fiance Page 13
