Not Her Real Fiance Page 9

  “There they are,” Brad said almost under his breath, and Celeste shivered at the memory of that voice telling her she was gorgeous as he kissed her neck. She put a smile on her face and gripped his arm tighter.

  “Hey, everyone,” Brad said in a cheery voice. “David.” He laughed as his brother stood from the booth and embraced him. Celeste smiled around at everyone, noting that they had all slid their gazes from the brotherly reunion to her.

  “It’s so good to see you,” Brad said. “How’s the farm? I really need to come visit.”

  “You so do,” David said. “It’s good. Really good.” He looked at Celeste, and Brad molded himself right back to her side.

  “This is my fiancée, Celeste Heartwood. Her family owns the inn.”

  Technically, Celeste owned nineteen percent of the inn, but she hadn’t told Brad that and didn’t need to correct him in front of his family. “Hello,” she said. “It’s so nice to meet all of you.” She gave David a quick hug, and then his wife, who wore her dark hair short in a stylish pixie cut.

  With the booth situation, she didn’t get to embrace everyone, and Brad’s gentle pressure on her back told her to slide in and get comfortable. She did, and he settled on the end beside her, his long legs barely fitting under the table.

  “We’ve only ordered drinks,” his mother said.

  “Oh,” Celeste said, reaching into her purse. “We got you a gift. Happy anniversary.” She extended the small package toward his mother, whose surprise wasn’t hard to see. She didn’t immediately reach for the present either.

  She glanced at Brad and then his brother. “Did you guys already do gifts?”

  “Celeste,” Brad said, but his mother jumped in with, “Thank you, dear,” and she took the gift. She opened it, which wasn’t hard, as it was just a box with a silver bow around it. She peered into the box and glanced at her husband. “Oh, this is lovely,” she said, pulling out the gift certificate to Redfin.

  “We can come back for date night,” TJ said. “Thank you, Celeste.”

  Brad’s hand on her leg felt heavy, but she smiled and looked up at the waiter when he arrived. “Would you two like drinks? And are we ready for appetizers?”

  “She’ll have the strawberry lemonade,” Brad said. “And I’ll take seltzer water with a lot of lime.”

  “And yes, we’re ready for appetizers,” his mother said, rattling off three of them without looking at the menu.

  The waiter nodded and moved to the next table, and Celeste was still aware of the awkward silence at this one.

  “What do you do here at the inn, Celeste?” Bella asked.

  “I manage all of the events,” she said. “The big shows, the special series. The weddings.”

  “Sounds stressful,” Bella said with a kind smile.

  “It has its moments,” Celeste said, covering Brad’s hand on her leg with hers. She leaned further into him, almost desperate for him to say something.

  “The pool here will be done next week,” he said. “Then my crew is moving over to Mount Vernon Hills.”

  “That’s great,” his mother said. “We took the Cove grandkids to the best movie today.” And the conversation picked up, with everyone participating. Celeste basked in their family’s vibes, finally relaxing enough to enjoy her lemonade and the delicious bacon-wrapped sea scallops that came out as the first round of appetizers.

  She liked Bella, and was glad she had plenty to say. Brad’s parents weren’t afraid of talking either, and they seemed genuinely happy. Whatever she’d done wrong with the gift was forgotten, and they ended the evening with the cheesecake bites, which she knew were Gwen’s creation.

  “My sister came up with these,” she said, surveying the platter of tiny two-inch square cheesecake morsels. Some had lemon curd on top, some had a glazed strawberry, some had homemade raspberry preserves, and some had peaches from just across the channel.

  “The peaches come from our groves in Savannah.”

  “You have peach groves in Savannah?” Brad asked.

  “Well, the inn owns them,” she said. “But yes. And Alissa used to make the most divine peach pecan pie.”

  “We’ve had that,” Christy said. “It is divine. Does she not make it anymore?”

  “Well, she just opened the fishmonger shop on Main Street,” Celeste explained. “And we hired a new head baker. I’m sure he’ll use the same recipe.” She smiled, because this date was light years better than her first with Brad.

  They said goodbye, with more choruses of happy anniversary, and Celeste practically floated out of the inn with Brad on her arm. Pure happiness filled her, and she turned toward him the moment they were alone in the car.

  “That was amazing,” she said. “They’re so great. I mean, so great. You know that, right?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, they’re not bad.”

  “What did I do wrong with the gift?” she asked.

  “It was my fault,” he said. “I should’ve told you we don’t do gifts.”

  “Oh, no.” Horror moved through her. “So I was the only one who brought a gift.”

  “It was from both of us, right?” he said. “So technically, no. You’re not the only one who brought a gift.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It was a party, and I just thought….”

  “It’s fine, Princess,” he said. “I should’ve told you. I forget how thoughtful you are.”

  She turned to look at him, marveling at how…good he was. “Did you like playing football?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “It was a great career.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yeah, honestly.”

  “I miss certain aspects of it. The team, for one. I don’t miss the intense workouts. I’m old now, you know?” He gave a light laugh. “My bones hurt in the morning sometimes.”

  “I have a gel for that,” she said. “I use it on my feet. Heels can be a killer.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” he said, turning into her driveway. He put the car in park and looked at her. “That was a pretty great night, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Really great. And now I’d like to break-up with you.”

  His smile slipped. “What?”

  Celeste giggled and opened her door to get out of the car. Brad joined her and walked her up to the front door. “You started it with the break-up talk,” she said.

  He put one hand on the door behind her and bent his head toward her. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice made of little more than air.

  He kissed her, and Celeste had never felt such passion from a man. He kissed her so completely, a few seconds passed before she realized he’d pulled back.

  “So how are we going to do that?” he asked. “It hasn’t been very long.”

  She pressed her lips together to try to tame the tingling. “I don’t know.” Her fingers fumbled for the doorknob behind her, and she twisted to open the door. “You want to come in for a few minutes? Have some coffee?”

  “Will we wake Gwen?”

  “Not with what I have in mind,” she said with a flirtatious smile. She backed into the house.

  “What do you have in mind?” Brad asked, not committing to come in yet.

  “Maybe some more kissing,” she said. “Some talk about how we’re going to break-up.”

  “I like both of those,” he said, stepping inside. Celeste giggled as she closed the door behind him, but he cut that sound off with another passionate kiss that left her head spinning and her heartbeat racing.

  She could not imagine a more perfect night, and she curled into Brad’s side once the coffee was done, happier than she’d ever been.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brad wouldn’t see Celeste again until Sunday, as she had an onsite event for singles at the inn on Friday and Saturday. She’d invited him to come hang out with her, but he knew she’d be running around to ensure every little detail was exact
ly right. So he’d declined, and instead, he’d visited with his brother and his nieces and nephews.

  “Uncle Brad, throw me the ball.” Brad focused on his nephew Thomas and threw him the water-logged football.

  “I’m going to get out, bud,” he said, making his way toward the side of the pool. It was probably time to reapply sunscreen, and he really needed something to eat. He groaned as he sat in the low, beach-side chair beside his father, who looked up from his phone.

  “Celeste seems very nice,” his father said.

  “She is very nice,” Brad said, anticipating the next question his father would ask. After all, his mother had already texted him a couple of times since Thursday’s dinner. It was much easier to ignore a text, though.

  “You seem to genuinely like her,” his dad said.

  “I do.”

  “When did you get engaged?”

  “Last week,” Brad said. “I kept it out of the headlines, because I don’t need that headache.”

  “Your mother and I are way below the headlines.”

  “I should’ve told you,” he said, hoping that would be the end of it.

  “I’m just going to ask once,” his dad said. “Is this a real engagement? Should your mother really clear some space in her calendar?”

  “There’s no date set yet,” Brad said, which was true. “She doesn’t need to do anything. I don’t need money. Celeste and I will take care of everything.” He settled his sunglasses on his face and watched his brother throw the ball to his son.

  Brad couldn’t relax, though, even though he forced a chuckle out of his mouth while his youngest nephew did a cannonball that drenched David. He reached over and opened the cooler, pulling out one of his mother’s famous ham sandwiches.

  “Hey, baby,” his mother said, coming over with Bella’s kids. They all picked up towels, and she handed out sandwiches. “You got one?”

  “Yeah, thanks, Mom.” Brad did enjoy spending time with his family, and he couldn’t help how his mind went down a road he’d thought was blocked for him. One where he got to throw a ball to his own son, or watch his own daughter do a flip off the diving board.

  His talk with Celeste on Thursday night about breaking up had yielded nothing. Of course, there had been more kissing than talking, and neither of them had any ideas for how to break up.

  It shouldn’t be that hard. It wasn’t like they went to lunch with friends or needed to make a big deal of it. He could just show up at Bella’s one day to pick up the kids for a fun outing and tell her, “Hey, Celeste and I broke up.”

  She’d take care of the rest, sending texts and making sure everyone who even got close to asking knew. At least that was what she’d done the last two times. Brad had actually appreciated it, because then he didn’t have to explain anything.

  “Where’s Celeste today?” his mom asked as she sat beside him, her own sandwich already unwrapped.

  “She has a big event at the inn,” he said. “I put that in the family text.”

  “Oh, I must have missed it.”

  His mother hadn’t missed it, and Brad knew it. He was suddenly weary of being at the waterpark, but they’d only been there for a couple of hours. He could make something up, get out of there, and enjoy an afternoon on a beach somewhere. Maybe he’d even go rent a puppy for the afternoon and watch the little canine try to chase a ball through the sand.

  He held onto those thoughts as everyone gathered for lunch. Thankfully, the nieces and nephews dominated everyone’s attention, and Brad was able to just listen and watch and not actually participate in the conversation.

  Sunday came, and Brad ran down the beach as the sun breathed new life into the day. His breathing was even, and cleansing, and he loved running when the beach was empty. He didn’t work out as much as he used to when he was playing football, but enough to stay in shape. Enough to keep his mind aligned.

  His phone buzzed while he ran, but he ignored it until he got home. With his chest heaving back in his own kitchen, he filled a glass with the coldest water he could get from the tap while he checked his phone.

  Bella had texted three times and called twice. He frowned, his muscles starting to twitch. He moved into a lunge as he dialed his sister, surprised she was up so early. Maybe something had happened with one of the kids.

  “Hey,” he said. “What’s—?”

  “Do you get the paper?” she asked. “Not like a national one. But The Island Weekly?”

  “No,” Brad said. “Why?”

  “You’re in it today, and it is not good.”

  Brad’s heart kicked into overdrive again, and he felt like running again though he’d just covered five miles.

  “I’m taking pictures and sending them to you,” she said. “You’re not going to like it, and when Celeste sees it…well, let’s just sake the fake engagement will be off.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked. “Can I see it online?” Even if he could, it might take forever to read it.

  “I doubt it,” she said. “But you really pissed off Carmen Lunt.”

  Brad’s heart dropped all the way to his feet and stayed there. “Carmen Lunt?”

  “I’m sending them now,” she said, her voice echoing, which indicated she’d put him on speaker. “They’re going through. I’m sorry, Brad. Let me know what I can do to help you.” She hung up, and Brad dashed over to his computer anyway.

  He tapped and typed, but his phone chimed before the site would load, and his sister’s pictures came in.

  The headline screamed at him, making his ears ring and his knees weak.

  Former football star and local hero labels fake fiancée uptight

  He blinked, and the letters rearranged themselves just like they always did. Didn’t matter. He’d already read the headline. Blackness edged in on his vision.

  Brad shook his head, but he felt only moments away from passing out, the way he had when he’d been hit hard by a lineman in Buffalo.

  He drew in a long breath, held it, and exhaled. One more breath, and he was able to look at the next picture. Carmen detailed their date, and then how he’d told her that he was engaged. It was only when I’d confronted him the following day at work that the name of his fiancée had come out.

  I was suspicious, naturally, the article read. He’d been out with me mere days earlier, and though he made it seem like it was just friendly, something he was doing for a friend, why would an engaged man do that?

  So I started looking into their relationship. A source finally revealed that the engagement was fake, though I will say that both Mister Keith and Miss Heartwood seem convinced themselves that they are engaged.

  Brad’s heart pounded. Who was her source? Besides himself and Celeste, no one else knew that the engagement wasn’t real. Celeste had sworn she hadn’t told anyone, not even Gwen.

  And he hadn’t told anyone but—“James.”

  James knew, but Brad couldn’t believe that his best friend and foreman would say anything to Carmen, even if they were neighbors. Why would he do that?

  He swiped to the next photo and started reading. When I heard he called Miss Heartwood uptight and bossy—his fiancée. The woman he loved!—I knew I needed to print something to warn all the other females on Carter’s Cove about this guy.

  Brad couldn’t read anymore. He closed his eyes, willing the text to go away, but it remained etched on the backs of his eyelids.

  Foolishness filled him, and he spun in a circle. He had to get to Celeste. Now. Not bothering to shower, he grabbed his keys and headed for the garage. He only lived ten minutes from Celeste’s house, but it seemed to take forever to get there. Her car sat in the driveway, as it was still quite early, and if Celeste went into the office on weekends, it was always later in the afternoon.

  He jogged up the sidewalk, every cell in his body rioting. “Celeste,” he said, knocking loudly on the door. “Come on,” he muttered. He had to talk to her before she read this article. He looked around at his feet. No paper.<
br />
  And it wasn’t online. Maybe he’d gotten here fast enough.

  He knocked again, calling, “Celeste, please answer the door.” He heard something bump inside the house, and then her dog barked a couple of times. “Midnight,” he said, though the tiny poodle couldn’t open the door.

  Feeling frantic, he knocked one more time, glad when he heard footsteps coming toward the door. Celeste opened it, and Brad finally got the vision of her he’d been dreaming of. She wore no jewelry. No makeup. Her hair hung in limp waves on either side of her face, and she tugged her robe tighter around her, those beautiful eyes blazing.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, lifting her chin in defiance.

  “She didn’t say everything I said,” he said, not quite sure what he was saying.

  “What are you talking about?” Her phone chimed and she looked down at it. “It’s so early. Why is everyone…?” Her voice trailed off, and horror washed through Brad as it flowed across her face.

  “You called me uptight and bossy?”

  “And then I said those were really good qualities,” he said. “She didn’t quote me right. And I have no idea how she found out.”

  Her phone buzzed and buzzed some more. She tossed it onto the side table and glared at him. “I think you should leave.”

  “Please, Celeste,” he said. “I was talking to James at the construction site. I don’t know how she overheard. But I said you were really fun to be with, and that I really enjoyed spending time with you, and that while sometimes you’re a little uptight and a little bossy, it makes you really good at your job.”

  She folded her arms, lasers shooting from her eyes now. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

  “Celeste.”

  “I’ll call you later.” She scooped up her little dog and started to close the door.

  Brad couldn’t very well step into the doorway and stop her from shutting him out. The door came between them, and he felt like throwing up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Celeste leaned into the closed door, very aware of the sound of Brad’s breathing on the other side of the door. She couldn’t physically hear it, but she somehow knew he hadn’t left.