“You want to marry my—” I cut myself off before I finish the sentence.
His brows furrow, but then his expression smooths. “Remember what I said at the beginning: I am not asking for your hand in marriage, Lucy. I am, however, asking to date you for the next three months because I think Icouldask you to marry me.”
My stomach lurches. “I’m going to vomit.”
I fight to unbuckle my seatbelt, swinging open the car door and stumbling out of the low-riding vehicle. I hightail it into the coffee shop, barely making it into the restroom before tossing my breakfast protein shake into the sink.
A few minutes later, I rinse the sink and use the disinfectant stashed in the cabinet under the sink to clean. There is absolutely no sense in making an employee clean after me because I can’t stomach the news that a crown prince and future king potentially wants to ask for my sister’s hand in marriage… and he thinks I’m her!
And I’ve done an atrocious job at impersonating Lucy…
The thought sends another wave of nausea rolling through me, but I swallow it down this time. Pressing my hands flat against the counter, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is frizzingaround the edges due to the sheen of sweat coating my face, my typically pale complexion an extra shade of ghost with splatters of freckles. I look like I’ve been through the ringer, but I guess that’s what holding onto lies does to a person. Lucy WILL come clean this week.
“But for now,” I scold my reflection, “you will go back out there and will be the best version of your sister that you can possibly be.”Because if Finley truly thinks he wants to ask for her hand, who am I to take that dream from her?
She’s going to flip out when I tell her…
Smoothing down my hair, tightening my ponytail, and rinsing my mouth out, I scan the restroom one last time to make sure it’s adequately cleaned then contort my features to resemble what I believe would be my sister’s shocked yet sorrowful expression. Unintentionally masking those around me has always been a speciality of mine. Time to really put it to use and be intentional. Very, very intentional.
When I open the door, Finley is standing a few feet away with an astute posture, his feet shoulder length apart, stable, and his hands clasped in front of him. His shaggy blond hair falls in front of his face, making him look like the rogue prince that’s captured headline after headline.
Right.
I should talk to him about that. Lucy may not mind, but I do. And now I am on a mission: Make Sure This Man Will Thoroughly Love and Adore My Sister.
It’s a working title. I should leave the titling of things to Lucy May, the romance writer.
“I didn’t think the thought of a future marriage with me would bethatrevolting to you.” His voice quivers, causing him to sound genuinely hurt. Maybe he’s standing so confidently to mask it?
“No—it’s not revolting. Just… unexpected,” I say through a small smile, trying to keep my hand on the string in my brain that is labeled “Lucy.”
He physically relaxes, his shoulders dropping a notch and his hands unclasping, falling to his side. “You spew history facts in uncomfortable situations and you vomit when taken by surprise.” He laughs.Laughs!“Noted.”
Lucy would never… “No, that was a one-off thing. A rather big surprise, wouldn’t you agree?” I attempt another soft smile, but I think it comes off more like a grimace because Finley’s thin lips turn downward.
“You’re right,” he says simply. He fixes a smile on his face. “Can I treat you to tea and something to settle your stomach?” He holds out a hand, and I know that if I take it at this moment, it means I am solidifying Lucy’s intentions to allow him to date her.
I still have many questions, especially regarding his dating history. But I do trust Hadley, and I don’t believe she would try to drive my sister into the arms of a man who would hurt her.
I slip my hand into Finley’s warm one, our fingers interlacing. A perfect fit, as Lucy’s hands will be. Other than the hot, star-exploding heat burning my hand, a new feeling stirs in my stomach, something I’ve never felt before.
Probably a queasy remnant from earlier. No big deal. A cup of tea and a sandwich will help it pass.
We make our way to the counter to order, and I silently panic when I notice Emma Jane’s bright ash-white hair from behind as she fulfills the order before us.Shoot.I tuck myself behind Finley, still clutching his hand, in the hopes that she won’t—
“Oh, hey, Lorelei! Who is this?” Her voice is one of shock. Rightfully so because I have never brought a man here. I’ve never brought a mananywhere.
I cough, wishing I could disappear.Lucy Spence… You owe me so much.
I peek my head out from behind Finley’s shoulder. I’m just short enough that I actually look around his shoulder instead of over it. Or maybe he’s just that tall…
“Not Lorelei. Lucy,” I gently correct.
Emma Jane’s perplexed expression has me doubling down. I try to mask my mellow voice into something more bubbly. I tilt my head and grin. “This is my…friend. Finley.” Would Lucy have called him a friend? Would she have said date? Boyfriend?
She totally would have.
Finley’s grip tightens as I attempt to pull away.
