“Hey.” Dane’s hands settle on my shoulders, and it’s like I’m connected to the earth again.
Not floating in a bubble of panic.
“We can call it quits anytime,” he says. “You want out, we’ll end it now. This isn’t about torturing ourselves.”
I drop my head to his chest like we’ve done this a thousand times. Who knew being fake engaged to someone for a few hours could make them feel like your best friend? “No. This is bigger than us. If I can’t—if I can’t be what my family needs, then maybe I can be what Tinsel itself needs. I’m okay. I am. I’m just being a little melodramatic. That’s all.”
“You’ve had a lot thrown at you today.”
“Says the man who woke up this morning with no clue that he’d be going to bed fake engaged to a complete mess.”
“Eh. I could use more fun in my life.”
I suck in a deep breath. “So we’re doing this.”
“I’m in as long as you are. We have EsmeandLorelei on our side, and I think I can sway my dad with a few more days. That’s practically half of the family with just one horrifically awkward cookout.”
So many objections swirl in my head.
But what if I lose my mom and grandma over this?
How will I pay everyone back for the wedding when it doesn’t happen?
What if Lorelei truly does hate us when we break up or she finds out this is fake?
What if I’m never welcome in Tinsel again?
I shake my head and pull away, grabbing my suitcase as a shield from all my fears. “I can take the couch.”
“Take the bed. I was sleeping on the couch at Lorelei’s anyway.”
“No, really, I—”
“Do we have to arm wrestle for the couch?”
He’s teasing, but there’s a stubbornness in his eyes that tells me he’ll fight to be a gentleman about it.
“I’ll take the bed tonight, but if you don’t sleep well, you take it tomorrow. Deal?”
He makes a noncommittal noise as he sets his backpack on the couch. “Spare pillow anywhere?”
“Hallway closet. I’ll grab you one after I put my bag away.”
I duck down the short hallway to the bedroom, looking for breathing room and knowing that between the heat and this fake engagement, I might not find it for a while.
This is good for everyone,I tell myself.It’s good for Tinsel. It’s good for Dane and Lorelei. Clearing the negativity is good for Mom and Grandma.
Why are good things so hard sometimes?
I wash my face to scrub off the remnants of sweat from the day, then head back out to the living room, completely forgetting to stop at the linen closet.
But Dane has helped himself. He’s laying out a Christmas quilt on the couch in the living room.
“Little hot for that, isn’t it?” I say.
“Protecting your couch from my sweat.” He pulls his shirt over his head, leaving him standing bare chested in the middle of the cozy little hideaway. “Your grandma say anything about how she’s feeling? Think she’ll be up to meeting me tomorrow?”
My mouth is suddenly too dry to answer, courtesy entirely of being this close to a buff, half-naked man who’s been my unexpected savior today, but I make myself talk anyway. “She—she’s good. Not happy that the doctor told her to lay off sampling the gingerbread. Upset that your family got to meet me before she gets to meet you. But yes. She says she wants to meet you to make sure you’re worthy of marrying me. And to decide how much she wants to spend on our wedding flowers.”
