Pretend It's Love(29)

For a moment she contemplated spilling it all, telling Paul about her  father and the seeds of doubt he'd planted in her mind. But Paul  wouldn't understand-his family was so warm and welcoming and kind. They  loved one another too much to do the damage her father had done to  her-well, except for Sadie and the other woman at the bridal shower.

Besides, she'd resolved her desire to stay relationship-free. She liked  Paul. Too much. That was precisely why she needed to put some barriers  in place.

"I'm fine. It's been a long week. I spent a lot of time meeting with  restaurants." She forced a bright smile. "The press release I put out  with a quote from your brother has done good things. Business is picking  up again."

"That's great news." Paul nodded. "You should be really proud of yourself."

The words-intended to help, she was sure-turned in her stomach like sour  milk. Should she be proud? What had her father said … cheap toxic  cordial?

"I am," she said, hoping the words sounded truer than they felt. "I'm grateful to both you and Des for helping me."

"I don't mind lending a hand, Tiger." He walked over to where his jacket  hung over the back of a chair and stuck his hand into one of the  pockets. "Especially not now that we're engaged."

She opened her mouth to fire off a comeback but the words evaporated on her tongue as he held out a small velvet box.

"I guess I should do this properly." He dropped down to one knee. "Libby  Harris, will you do me the honor of pretending to marry me?"

A ring sparkled amongst the plush velvet cushions of the box. The ring  wasn't traditional in any way. Teardrop diamonds criss-crossed the band  like leaves in a wreath. Between the diamonds small rubies gleamed like  berries.

While Libby froze, Paul stood and clasped her hand, sliding the ring  onto her finger. Her whole body sparked like she was the center of an  electrical storm. The room shifted around her as blood rushed to her  head.

For a moment she could see the future. Waking up in the morning to  Paul's hands on her body, his lips whispering in her ear the words she'd  longed to hear all her life: I love you, you belong. Except she, like  her mother, had heard those words before. How long would it be before he  got bored, before he strayed? Before she wasn't good enough anymore?

"The ring belongs to my family," he said, running the pad of his thumb  across her knuckles. "But it reminded me of you for some reason."

She wanted to believe him, but words meant nothing. Promises meant  nothing. Her parents had told her they loved her as a child, but when  was the last time she'd heard those words without them being attached to  manipulation?



Paul steeled himself against the shock on Libby's face. Her hazel eyes  widened as she gaped at the ring on her hand. The ring he'd slipped on  as reverently as if it had actually meant something.

What the hell are you doing? Stop treating this like a real engagement. You're freaking her out!

"Are we really doing this?" she asked, her eyes never moving from the band on her finger.

It fit perfectly. Somehow he'd known it would.

"As predicted, Mum told every living relative and most of our neighbors that I popped the question."

Libby cringed. "I still can't believe I did that."

"Believe it. I've been fending off calls all week." He took a step back and dragged his eyes away from her hand.

"And after the wedding?" She looked up, her face pale. Drawn.

He shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Her head bobbed slowly. Her hand remained outstretched as though she  wasn't ready to accept that the ring was part of her. The message  couldn't have been clearer than if she'd carved it into a wall with a  knife.

This relationship is as fake now as it was on day one.

"Paul … "

He forced his shoulders down and his breath to come out evenly. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I've messed everything up."

"It's fine. We'll deal with it." He waved her concern away and lifted  his jacket from the chair, shrugging it on, one arm at a time. "I'll see  you at dinner. Okay?"

She nodded at the ground.

Paul left the hotel room so quickly it must have looked as though a  ghost had chased him out. He followed the line of the hallway, finding  his family already gathered in the reception area where they were  waiting to make their way as a group to the wedding chapel.         

     



 

"Nervous?" he asked Gracie, who beamed up at him with a smile that could have lit an entire city.

"Not even a little bit." Her dark eyes sparkled.

Gracie's older sister stood next to her and held her hand. "This is such a special day. I'm so happy for you both."

"Don't start crying." Gracie swatted her. "You'll set me off."

Paul gave his soon-to-be sister-in-law a quick hug and went off in  search of his mother. She had already started walking toward the chapel,  and Paul fell into step beside her.

"Did you give her the ring?" she asked, looking up at him, her dark eyes filled with unstoppable excitement. "Where is she?"

"She doesn't need to be here for the rehearsal. You'll see her at  dinner." They approached the chapel door, and Paul held it open for the  others.

"I'm so proud of my boys," his mother said, shuffling past him.

"You just want grandkids," he called out after her and she laughed, nodding.

Yep, he'd dug himself a hole the size of a continent. A hole that would be awfully dark and lonely without Libby.





Chapter Thirteen

By the time the rehearsal concluded, Paul was itching to make a break  for it. He needed food and space, not necessarily in that order.

Gracie's mother discussed something intently with the wedding planner  while the bridal party and his parents stood around waiting. Her foot  tapped a maddening beat against the floor as Gracie tried to smooth down  the tension between the two women.

"If I ever get hitched I'm eloping to Vegas," Noah said, nodding toward the women. "No mother-in-law allowed."

"You want to get married?" Paul regarded his friend closely.

Noah shrugged and rubbed the stubble on his jaw. "I'm talking  hypothetically. It'll never happen. Now you, on the other hand. You said  weddings were stupid."

"Not you, too. Seriously, did she tell everyone?" He shook his head. "Besides, I believe I said tiny food was stupid."

"So it'll be burgers and fries at the union  of Paul Chapman and Libby … ?"

"Harris." He swallowed past a lump in his throat. "Libby Harris."

"I'm happy for you man. She's smart … well, except for her decision to  date you." He slapped Paul on the back. "I had a chat with her when she  came in to help Des set up for the tasting. Not sure how you managed to  snag such a great girl."

"I have no idea." He shook his head.

They filtered out of the chapel and made their way to the restaurant.  Libby was nowhere in sight, but her name was written in looping cursive  on the place card next to his seat at the table. He looked at the empty  chair.

"Were you worried I wouldn't show?" She materialized beside him as if conjured straight from his deepest, darkest desires.

Her hair was swept on top of her head, a few strands falling out to  delicately frame her face. She'd changed out of jeans into a sleek black  skirt and a silky emerald green top.

"Why do you say that?"

She shrugged and slipped her hand into his. The ring brushed against him  as he interlaced his fingers with hers. "You were staring at the empty  spot."

"Just wondering if they'd let me have your meal if you didn't show. I'm  starving." He brushed him thumb over the ring, feeling the ridges of the  setting as if memorizing them.

"No way. I'm going to eat every last bite."

Libby stepped closer to him as his mother rushed over proclaiming that  she just had to see how the ring looked on her. Her grip tightened, her  arm pressing into his side. For now, they were in this together.

He had twenty-four hours to decide what to do.



Having Paul's family fuss over her was a strange sensation. For some  reason it reminded Libby of the time she'd been "invited" into the cool  crowd at boarding school only to later find out it had all been a joke.  She remembered crying over the lost sense of belonging, fleeting as it  had been.

Only this time she knew it was a sham up front.

She toyed with the ring, twisting it around her finger until she was  sure she'd worn a groove into her skin. The more people fussed, the  closer she'd pressed against Paul. His arm around her was the only thing  stopping her from running away, her promise to him the only thing  holding her together.

Watching the two families laugh and celebrate was a surreal experience.  They included her, brought her into the conversation, explained the  jokes, and allowed her a peek into the thing she'd never have. A real  family.

How would she ever be able to give this up?