“See?” she managed even though her body felt like she’d just got done with a three-mile run. “I’m getting better.”
“You certainly are.” His voice was low and gruff, and it made Callie shiver.
“I still don’t love the idea of deceiving my new coworkers and friends,” she said. “But I just want you to know that I won’t let you down. You’re going out on a limb for me, you’re trusting me, and…” She took a deep breath as emotions choked her. “I need you to know that I won’t take that trust for granted. I won’t abuse it.”
His gaze was long and steady, and she held herself still, letting him study her to his heart’s content. After a long silence, he gave her a short nod. “I appreciate that.”
She shifted from foot to foot. “Okay, well, um…” She glanced toward the closed door. “I should get going.”
Maybe he sensed her hesitation because he reached out and squeezed her hand. “The good news is, the gossip is already out there,” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
She nodded because she knew what he meant. Between Leah and Angela jumping to conclusions, and now that kiss for the sake of her fellow teachers—word about her relationship with Cole Harding would no doubt spread like wildfire with no help from her.
“You might even get through this without having to outright lie,” he said.
She let out a short huff of laughter. “Somehow that doesn’t exactly appease my conscience.”
His gaze warmed as he studied her. “That’s because you’re a good person, Callie. Honest and forthright and…” He gave his head a shake and his lips curved up in a rueful smile. “I don’t think you know how rare that is, especially in my world.”
Something warm and sweet spread through her at the praise.
“I won’t take that for granted,” he said, echoing her words.
She nodded her understanding as something unspoken but meaningful passed between them.
Then, just like that, he started to back away and the tension evaporated. “I’ll see you after work. Good luck this afternoon.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll be home in time to make dinner.”
His brows shot up. “You honestly think I’m going to make you cook for me after your first day at a new job? Your first day of having a film crew and a construction team invade your home?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, when you put it like that…this has been an awfully eventful day, hasn’t it?”
He laughed and the sound seemed to fill the hallway, making her whole body respond. “I’d offer to cook for you but I don’t think you’d appreciate boxed mac ’n cheese.”
She laughed.
“But I can take you out to dinner,” he said.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said. “Besides, we’ll be keeping up appearances. Tyler will thank us for it.”
She stumbled back a step toward the lounge at the reminder that this was all for show. “Right. Of course.”
“I’ll see you at home after work,” he called as he turned and headed for the door.
She found herself standing there smiling even after he’d disappeared. I’ll see you at home…
She’d liked that. It sounded so cozy, so intimate.
Granted, it was all for show…and it was only for a matter of weeks.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself, did it?
Chapter Eleven
That was exactly what Callie did. She enjoyed herself. The rest of the week flew by and despite the fact that she was starting up a new job, and that her house was perpetually overrun by Cole’s crew, and even despite the cameramen who seemed to excel at creeping about silently so they were easy to ignore… Despite all of that, she had a great week.
She had fun. More fun than she’d had for the last four weeks, that was for sure.
The crew obviously adored Cole and they went out of their way to befriend her, thinking that she was their boss’s love interest. The camera guys were so good at blending in, she quickly got used to having them around and stopped worrying about how she looked and sounded. Cole had assured her that first night out at dinner that he would make sure she didn’t look stupid in the final cuts, and she trusted him.
She trusted him.
Huh. It was the oddest feeling to trust someone she’d only just met, but it wasn’t a logical decision. It was her gut…or maybe her heart. He was such a straight shooter—so honest and noble. That was a word she didn’t use to describe people very often. Who called people noble in this day and age? And yet, the descriptor fit. He was good, and noble, and brave. So brave. It took courage to be so open, to make oneself vulnerable, to trust that another person won’t let you down. And oddly enough he trusted her too. It was mutual, and that was…nice.
Nice felt like too lame of a word for it, but she didn’t know how else to describe it, even to herself.
The week which she’d dreaded ended up flying by in a comfortable routine. She and Cole either went out to dinner or they stayed in and she cooked, while he did the dishes. They talked about their days, and when she had time, she joined in with the crew, doing the more menial tasks that they assigned, and learning a ton in the process.
Of course, her days were filled with work but on Thursday Cole once again stopped by the school to see her at lunchtime, this time with a cameraman in tow. By the time Callie woke up on Saturday, she was starting to think maybe she’d survive this mess intact.
Even better, she was starting to think this might actually be good for her, in a weird sort of way. She tried to explain that to Cole when she joined him for a trip to the hardware store—sans camera crew. The lovely people of Friar Hollow had gotten used to seeing them around town together so they no longer garnered the same level of attention, thank goodness.
“So you’re saying you’re glad that Tyler forced you into this situation?” he asked, one brow arched in disbelief as he tossed some hardware into the basket she carried.
She laughed. “No! And don’t tell him I said that.”
Tyler stopped by to check up on his crew on a regular basis but his visits were short, and he was usually on his phone for the most part. He was already doing pre-production work for the next house they had lined up—a couple who was actually a couple, she was happy to hear—or wrapping up post-production work for the last episode.
She’d convinced him to stay for dinner on Wednesday, though, and to Cole’s amusement, she’d forced him to relinquish his cell phone for the duration of the dinner. Thanks to that evening, she felt like Tyler had become something of a friend.
Still, there was no way she’d ever admit to Tyler that he and his network’s heavy-handed ways had turned out to be something of a blessing.
Cole, the crew, working on the house. It was all such a wonderful distraction. And after so many weeks puttering around the house with way too much time to stew and mope, this distraction was exactly what she needed. Not to mention her house—only one week in and already Cole and his crew had worked wonders.
Of course the third-floor bathroom was still a mess of torn-up tiles and gaping holes, but she trusted that when they were finished, she’d be awed.
As for her and Cole—this fake relationship business kept getting easier and easier. Puttering around the kitchen, kicking back at night with a glass of wine or a mug of tea—usually for the camera’s sake, but sometimes just because they were living together. It seemed churlish to stop being friendly once the cameramen left, so they just kept on getting along.
And it wasn’t staged.
He honestly made her laugh, and his stories held her captivated. Once he opened that stern mouth of his, he was really quite a charming guy. This was why, when Saturday rolled around and he invited her out to dinner, she didn’t think twice. They’d been working together side by side all day, pop country music playing softly from downstairs, their work interspersed with lessons from Cole on how to do a task that was new to her, and ple
asant conversation that ranged from their childhoods to their favorite movies to who was the most overrated football player.
“Italian or Chinese?” Cole asked as they parted ways to get ready for dinner.
“Surprise me.”
It wasn’t until she’d gotten out of the shower and was debating between a pair of dark jeans and a fitted black top or a pretty dress she’d never worn that she thought to call out to Cole. “Camera or no?”
It had become shorthand this week. Heading to the grocery store, you want to come? Cameras or no?
“Cameras,” he shouted back.
She sighed. It wasn’t that she really hated being on camera. Once she’d gotten over her initial nerves and the fact that she was basically living a lie, she’d gotten pretty good at being herself…albeit, a slightly less frumpy version of herself, and a version of herself that was engaged to a superstar.
But tonight…well, tonight she just wanted a break, she supposed.
She wanted a night out with Cole that didn’t have a constant reminder of their subterfuge hanging over them. She wanted… She wanted…
She wanted a proper date.
The thought had her freezing with her hand on the new dress. She stared at it for so long that her arm started to hurt from hovering in midair.
She snatched the silky material off the hanger and threw it on, refusing to overthink that errant thought. Of course she didn’t want a real date. Not when she was basically still engaged to someone else.
Shaking off the thought, she finished dabbing on some makeup and blowing out her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders unlike the usual ponytail or bun she sported around the house.
With one last glance at the mirror, she felt a flicker of nerves that had nothing to do with the fact that cameras would be coming along on this pseudo date and everything to do with the fact that she was going out with Cole.
Stupid, ridiculous star-struck crush, that’s all it was. Still, she found herself eyeing her reflection critically, wondering not for the first time if Cole found her attractive or if he really was just that good at acting the part of the doting fiancé. One thing was for sure, she felt beautiful whenever he looked at her—and it didn’t matter if she was sporting oversized T-shirts or her ripped, faded overalls. When his eyes met hers, they held a glow that made her feel warm all over.
She let out a huff. Stupid, stupid infatuation. Of course he made her feel pretty and cherished and adored—that was his whole job this week. Pretending that he was in love was why he was here.
So then…why did she still feel that warm glow after the cameras left?
“He’s a method actor, clearly,” she told her reflection, her voice little more than a murmur. “It’s just method acting.”
“What?”
Callie let out a little squeak of surprise and whipped around to see Cole standing in the doorway to her bedroom. “What?”
His brows hitched up ever so slightly. “I thought I heard you say something.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Nope. Definitely not. Just…talking to myself.” Her cheeks felt warm. Did they look hot? She resisted the urge to glance at the mirror again, afraid of what she might find.
Did she look as guilty as she felt? Probably. But Cole didn’t question her further, just shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants as he eyed her with that look…the one that made her insides turn to goo. “You ready to head out?”
“Oh, um…” Words. She had no words. She’d gotten used to the fact that he was an attractive man. Handsome, charismatic, and filled with more masculine virility than any one man had any right to possess. But this…well, this was the first time she’d seen him all cleaned up.
“You look beautiful, Callie.”
Her head snapped up and he gave her a little grimace as he rubbed the back of his neck. For a second she thought maybe she’d heard him wrong, but then his expression cleared. “I just mean…I’ve gotten so used to seeing you working alongside my crew or wearing your work clothes, but this…” He eyed her again, and she felt the weight of his stare to her bones. “You look gorgeous.”
“Not gorgeous,” she muttered, tucking some hair behind her ear self-consciously. She’d always been more of a tomboy than a girlie girl and even now she felt a little like a kid playing dress up in the simple black dress.
“Yes, gorgeous,” he said, his tone stern, though she caught the corners of his mouth twitching as he watched her.
She waved a hand in his general direction. “And you,” she said with a breathless sigh that was only mildly embarrassing. “Look at you.”
“Look at me,” he said, laughter clear in his voice now. “Bet you didn’t know I owned anything other than work boots and tool belts.”
She laughed. “I suspected as much, but I didn’t want to presume.”
He held his hands out to the side. “Yeah, well, I promised Tyler some shots of a classic date night, so…”
She blinked as if he’d just thrown cold water in her face. What was wrong with her today? It was like she’d lost all sense of what was real and what was fake. One week and her head was a mess. There were two more weeks to go, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d survive with her sanity intact.
“Of course,” she said with a forced smile. “We’d better not keep them waiting, right?”
He held out his arm for her as if to escort her down the stairs. Granted, the banister had been removed temporarily as he and his crew were fixing some of the stairs, but the gallant gesture still seemed over the top. She had the urge to point out that there were currently no cameras on them so he didn’t need to act like Prince Charming.
She swallowed down the petty words before they had a chance to come out. It wasn’t his fault that her silly daydreams had taken on a life of their own. Once he was gone she’d be back to reality, but for now… Well, for now she was wearing heels for the first time in months so she took his proffered arm with what she hoped was a gracious smile.
They rode to the restaurant in the cameraman’s van, agreeing that they’d take a cab back later, or maybe even walk if her heels could stand it. The cameraman followed them into the Italian restaurant, and Cole assured her that Tyler had gone before them to talk to the management and get releases signed for the wait staff and anyone who might be in the shot.
It was embarrassing to have all eyes in the restaurant on them, but eventually the novelty wore off, and Cole informed her that the camera guy wouldn’t stick around for the entire dinner. Just long enough to capture the two of them staring dreamy-eyed at one another and holding hands across the table. Neither of which were difficult to do.
Actually, both of which seemed to come way too easily. Before she knew it, the camera guy had faded into the background, along with the wait staff and everyone else in this place. They could have been alone, living in their own little bubble.
The conversation was smooth and easy…right up until it wasn’t.
“Seriously,” he said. “Why do you want new fixtures in the second-floor bathroom? I don’t get it.”
She blinked, not because the statement was so outrageous—they’d already bickered lightheartedly about this very topic several times over the course of the week. It was the intensity of his gaze that was startling. It made her shift in her seat, a mix of guilt and irritation making it hard to maintain the same lighthearted tone. She had a suspicion he knew exactly why she was opting for new fixtures, and he wouldn’t let up until she confirmed it.
Cole was a purist when it came to these things, and she couldn’t say she blamed him. She was too, when it came to the original hardware and fixtures. For the most part, they were of the same mind when it came to her house. It was all about finding the perfect balance between functionality and old-world charm. Whenever possible, she liked to stay true to the original structure, but she also lived in the modern world. It was a balancing act, and one she felt they’d been doing an excellent job of performing.
It was only th
ese details that kept popping up that caused an issue…these details that weren’t in keeping with their mutual vision. Right now, his gaze was fixed on her and his jaw had a stubborn set. He wanted an explanation for her inexplicable desire to modernize the fixtures, and rightfully so.
The only problem was, she really didn’t want to explain her reasoning.
He leaned forward. “Come on, I know you know old houses. Why wouldn’t you want to keep the originals when they’re in such great condition?”
She stared down at her plate. It was like he knew that this was a meaningful topic because he just wouldn’t let it go.
Sure enough…
“I just don’t get it,” he said again.
“What?” she asked, twisting her napkin in her lap. “Can’t I just want something different? Does this really have to be an inquisition?”
“No,” he said slowly. “What I find so interesting is why you get so cagey every time I mention the bathroom fixtures. Or the plans for the kitchen cabinets, for that matter. Or the tiles you’re insisting on even though you know very well they don’t fit, or…”
He trailed off with a sigh and she stared at him evenly, willing this conversation to end.
It didn’t. He didn’t look away and she got the unnerving sensation that they were in a staring contest. Whoever blinked first lost.
She blinked. “It’s…it’s nothing.”
He leaned back in his chair. “It’s something.”
She looked around to see if anyone was listening. No one was. The camera man had disappeared, but whether he was gone for the night or just to grab a bite of his own before filming their goodnight kiss, she had no idea.
Leaning across the table she spit out the truth under her breath. “Brent didn’t like the original fixtures.”
She sat back. There. End of conversation.
After a blank stare, his brows drew down and he glowered at her in a way she hadn’t seen in a full week, not since he’d moved in and they’d slipped into an easy friendship. “I’m sorry,” he said—no apology in his voice. “I think I must have misheard you.”
The (Not So) Perfect Fiancé Page 11
