It’s low.
I know it’s low.
All the way around.
But I fuckinghatethe way our families fight. The idea of coming home puts me on edge every time.
It makes me feel like a pawn instead of a human being, and it’s overshadowed every major accomplishment I’ve had in my life.
Early last year, when I thought I would marry Vanessa, that we’d have kids—I didn’t want to bring them home.
They didn’t even exist, and I was already thinking about how I didn’t want to put them in the position that I grew up in. I didn’t want them to have to hide it if they became friends with an Anderson. I didn’t want them to feel like half of their identity was hating someone else and every good thing they ever did was a chip to be used in a poker game of animosity.
I’ll have kids one day, and I’ll feel the same then as I do now. They don’t need a cloud of anger and hatred hanging over their lives.
So what if we end it?
What if we take advantage of this moment, of Amanda’s spontaneity, and we make a real plan, and weend this?
“That’s ...” She licks her lips while she stares at me, apparently at a loss for words.
“A big risk,” I acknowledge. “It could backfire. But you don’t want to inherit a bakery. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hearing more about what’s wrong with your family than what’s right with mine. So what are we out if it doesn’t work?”
I know what I’m risking.
I’m risking conflict inside my family instead of them having a united front against the Andersons. I’m risking being cut out of my family completely if they can’t look past their old prejudices to see that Amanda’s a nice person.
I don’t know what her relationship is with her grandma. I don’t know what she wants it to be.
But if she was willing to blurt out that she’s engaged to the enemy to get out of inheriting a bakery, can it be that fantastic?
She’s staring at me with ever-darkening eyes, and she licks her lips once more.
Fuck it.
If I’m doing this, I’mdoing this.
I drop to one knee in front of her. “Amanda, will you do me the honor of being my fake fiancée so that we can bring some peace to this town?”
She searches my eyes with hers, her pupils dilating just enough to be noticeable as her breath comes in shallower and shallower bursts.
After what feels like an eternity, she gives me a solid nod. “Okay. Okay. I’m in. Let’s do this.”
My heart leaps. Not the only part of me leaping, if I’m being honest.
I’m engaged to Amanda Anderson.
This week will be interesting.
An alarm beeps on my phone.
Shit.
Family cookout tonight.
I’m due there in an hour. Which, I suppose, meanswe’redue there in an hour now.
I lift a brow at Amanda. “Good. Because we’re starting right now.”
