“That is a good question, Mrs. Boatright,” he said, keeping his stare on Whitney. “You see, I’ve been trying to get this beautiful lady to marry me for several months, but she thinks her job is more important.”
Shock slapped Whitney in the face like a two-by-four wooden plank against her skull. Obviously, he was playing the role she’d started at the airport, but it would have been nice of him if he’d warned her about it first.
Releasing an uncomfortable laugh, she tried giving Zack a sweet smile, although she was sure the others would think it looked pure evil. “Oh, Zack. Are you playing on Mr. and Mrs. Boatright’s sympathies? If you remember correctly, we both decided to hold off on getting married so that we can save money to have a nice wedding.” Zack opened his mouth to speak, so she hurried on. “Besides that, your father won’t be able to fly back into the country for at least another year. I think he’d want us to wait for him, don’t you?”
She wasn’t sure just how much Mrs. Boatright could see of Zack’s expression, but his glare was razor sharp as he aimed it at Whitney.
“Nah. Dad would have been fine with it because he just wants his son to be happy.”
Whitney moved her focus to the other woman for a brief second. Since Whitney had been an FBI agent, it was easier for her to read people’s expressions, and the woman appeared very doubtful. In order to keep their identities hidden – at least Zack’s – Whitney needed to make sure the others believed their story.
Mustering up a tender smile for Zack, she stroked his smooth cheek. “But darling,” she lowered her voice, hoping it sounded slightly seductive, “what about our jobs? Neither of us are making enough money for a wedding, let alone to start out a marriage.”
The color in his brown eyes softened the longer he looked at her. “Money shouldn’t matter if two people are in love.”
She couldn’t stop the romantic side of her from coming awake after all of these years. What happened to her theory oflove stinksthat she had tried cramming in her head for three years straight?
Mrs. Boatright let out an audible sigh. “He’s right, Whitney. You can’t base a marriage on money. Only love.”
“And trust,” Mr. Boatright said, giving a nod to his wife.
She smiled and grasped her husband’s hand.
Zack leaned closer to Whitney, staring deep into her eyes. “Come on, babe. You know you love me. You know you want to be my wife.” He shrugged. “We could always elope. It doesn’t matter to me, as long as we can be together, forever.”
Why had she even started this conversation in the first place? Her heartbeat skipped abnormally for the first time since Steve had dumped her, forcing her to devote herself to her job. And why was it getting harder and harder to look away from Zack’s dreamy chocolate eyes that weakened her in the worst way?
She swallowed, hoping to add moisture to her suddenly dry throat. “Oh, Zack. You know how much I love you. And yes, I do want to marry you. But if you love me, you’ll let me have the fairytale wedding I’ve always dreamed about. After all, I’m only going to get married once.”
He sighed in defeat. “Well, because I love you so much...”
She smiled fully, surprised how elated she felt even though they were just pretending. “You’re such a wonderful man.” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his.
There was no way she wanted to kiss him in front of the Boatrights, but it seemed Zack had different plans. His head tilted as his mouth started heading right for hers. Panic gripped her chest and she couldn’t breathe
“I think this is the address, isn’t it?” Mr. Boatright asked.
Whitney jerked back, as did Zack. He leaned toward the window to look outside.
“Yes, this is the address.”
“This is a really nice neighborhood,” Mrs. Boatright said with a touch of awe in her voice. “Is this where you live?”
“I wish I could afford to live here.” Zack chuckled. “This is my father’s house. He’s out of the country, but he lets me stay here when I’m in town.”
He unfastened his seatbelt and opened the car door. “Mr. and Mrs. Boatright, it was a pleasure to get to know you. And thank you, once again, for being good Samaritans by giving us a ride.”
Whitney climbed out and thanked the older couple before closing her door. Staying in character, she moved beside Zack and took hold of his hand, entwining their fingers. As the car drove away, Zack led the way up the steps and to the front door. He punched in a code beside the door before using his key and opening the front door.
As soon as they were inside and the lights were on, she stepped away from him, breaking their contact. She took in the grandeur of the place and gasped in surprise. She’d never known anyone with a lot of money, and naturally, she’d never had the opportunity to be inside their home. Zack’s house was decorated in light peach and green, with contrasting splashes of brown. But it was the furnishings that nearly made her drool with envy. His taste seemed to lean more toward the turn-of-the-century. Never had she seen so many items that appeared new, but were styled for the early nineteen hundreds.
“So, this is where you live, huh?” she asked, taking slow steps into the living room.
“Not really. I bought this place for my mother, but she doesn’t like to stay here very often.”
Whitney’s heart dropped. So, he doesn’t live here, only his mother? For a moment, Whitney had wanted him to be the one who enjoyed old-fashioned furniture.
“Why not? This place is an interior designer’s dream-come-true.” Whitney wondered why his mother hadn’t wanted to live in a museum like this. Was she blind or something?
