Sawyer had been trying to pull his gaze off Betzy’s legs half the night. He hadn’t done a great job at it. And now that she was strutting before him, those stiletto heels enhancing the curvy shape of her long legs, the battle started anew.
“How are we going to do this?” Betzy asked. Her quick glance into the darkness out the front window said she was checking to see if Mom and Ted were back yet. The two had gone out for a bite to eat after all the excitement, allowing Sawyer and Betzy to bring Mario home.
“You’re totally right. Grandma knows my body language and she knows my personality…”
“Above all that,” he said, a concern of his own coming to mind. “She knowsyou. Will she really think you’ve fallen for the Kingsley boy?” His heart dropped as he asked the bold question. One he might not want the answer to.
Betzy stopped pacing and shot him a look he couldn’t read. Brow furrowed, face scrunched slightly. “Are you kidding? Everyone knows I was in love with you. We had amarriagecontract, for crying out loud. Ofcoursethey’ll believe it. Onmyend at least.”
His pulse spiked for a beat, but Sawyer was quick to put it right once more. The marriage contract—they’d written that when they were eight years old. He knew she had a childhood crush on him at the time. One that likely faded before she hit her teens.
“How did your mom take it?” she asked.
Sawyer thought back on the conversation he’d had with her. “She was fine with it.” No sense in telling her how leery Mom was that he’d get his heart broken.
Betzy nodded, her face thoughtful as she tucked an auburn lock of hair behind one ear. “You know, in the article, they list my love for fast cars—among other things—as one of my off-kilter, destined-to-be alone symptoms.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “Oh,andthe fact that I like to be behind the wheel. Like the guy should have to drive every time. Somehow, according to freakingSlipper Magazineand their statistical calculations of all the rich loners out there,that makes me lessmarriage materialand more spinster-bound.”
Her cheeks were turning red, the way they did when her temper flared.
“If you ask me,” Sawyer said, “I’d say it’s just the opposite. The fact that you know your cars, that you appreciate the models and makes and what sets them apart—I think it’s sexy.” He studied her reaction, then reveled in the reluctant smile pulling at her lips.
“No you don’t,” she said softly.
Sawyer nodded. “I do too. Now get over here, park your butt on this couch, and let’s practice cuddling.”
“Cuddling?My family knows I’m not a cuddler.”
“Well, maybe that excuse worked for your ex-boyfriend, but it doesn’t work for me.” This time he patted his chest, indicating she should rest her head against him. “This relationship has to look different from the one with what’s-his-name if it’s going to convince anyone.”
Betzy glanced out the window once more before settling her eyes back on him. “And if your mom comes home?”
“All the better,” he said. “She’ll be proud of us for practicing our part. Like when we used to do our homework together.”
Dang, he liked seeing those dimples.
Betzy laughed now, a cute little giggle as she shook her head. “Fine. You’re probably right.”
“I am.”
“And you know what?” she said, stepping around the coffee table. “I was thinking…I know we missed the live stream tonight, but there might be a leak about us being together at the vet. It’s possible one of the staff members recognized us.”
Sawyer felt his smile falter. “That’s true.”
“So it might even be better,” she continued. “One appearance at the auction, another at the animal hospital with your sick dog. And only a girlfriend would go along for something like that, right? It’ll probably make it all the more convincing.”
“Yep.” Sawyer tried to force the grin back onto his face, but his inner wheels were stuck in the shifty terrain of Betzy’s words. She’d been very comforting while he waited for news of Mario’s condition. He didn’t like thinking that she’d been wrapped up in appearances during such a time.
That wasn’t the Betzy he knew. He hoped she hadn’t changed over the years. He’d always loved the traits that set her apart from most in her class. Her compassion for others, appreciation for some of the small things, and her overall freedom from the often binding ties of society. He’d fallen in love with her because of those traits. And stayed in love with her after all these years.
But what if he no longer knew the real Betzy Benton?
That question floated through his mind as she made her way to the center of the couch. She glanced at him over her shoulder briefly, seeming to gage the distance, then lowered herself onto the cushion at last. Instead of scooting back and getting comfortable, she stayed perched on the edge, arms still folded across her chest.
“Wow, this is convincing even me,” he teased. “I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy right now.”
Betzy covered her face and groaned. “I’m not good at this, I told you.” He felt her frustration in those words. Enough to remind him of her fragile condition at the country club when she’d told him about the article. It bothered him, poked at that need he felt to step up and help her.
