Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Lying on my childhood bed, I stared at the familiar cracks in the ceiling. The room remained unchanged since I left for Nashville—same pale walls, shelves of trophies and high school photos. Time had stood still here, trapping me in a past self.

Being accomplished hardly meant anything when everyone’s first question was, “Are you seeing anyone?”

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. “Aurora, honey?”

“Come in,” I called.

Mom entered, apron dusted with flour. “Dinner’s in a couple of hours. Mark called. He’ll be here but can’t stay late—important surgery tomorrow.”

I resisted an eye roll. “He might want to consider skipping it altogether.”

“Get a grip, Aurora. You know Mark’s family does Thanksgiving on the weekend.” She hesitated. “I was surprised to see Clark arrive on a motorcycle. I can’t believe he’s a biker.”

“He’s not just a biker, Mom. He’s a businessman,” I improvised. “He bought his mom the house next door.”

Her expression softened. “Mary did mention she’s proud of him. Didn’t say he rides a Harley, though.”

“Uncle Bruce has a motorcycle,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but it’s a hobby. I always thought you’d end up with someone like Mark. But if Clark makes you happy...”

“Mom, I don’t love Mark anymore. And I’m figuring things out with Clark.”

She patted my hand. “We put so much work into planning that wedding. You left your fiancé and ran off to Nashville, thinking you’d become a star.”

I pulled away gently. “He cheated, Mom. And I’m a classical musician, not a fame-chasing pop singer. Mark and I weren’t right for each other.”

She sighed. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“I know, but I need to make my own choices.”

“Well, at least there’s a man in the picture. I worry about you in that big city.” An uncomfortable hush settled before she stood. “Your aunt and uncle just arrived. The twins are eager to see you.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

Deciding I needed a distraction, I headed downstairs.

The next hour passed in a blur of hugs and small talk. Aunt Lydia and Uncle Bruce shared tales of their RV adventures, while cousins Hannah and Grace showed off their toddlers. The house buzzed with laughter and the aroma of roasting turkey.

As dinner approached, a knot tightened in my stomach. The thought of sitting across from Mark—and pretending that the biker was my boyfriend—was too much without a plan. I needed to talk to Clark.

Slipping away, I crossed the street and knocked on the house next door. A woman with kind eyes opened the door. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Clark. I’m Aurora, from across the street.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, Sarah’s daughter! I’m Mary.” She pulled me into a hug. “But Clark? Do you mean Frog?”

“Frog?” I blinked.

She laughed. “That’s what everyone calls him.”

Recalling the patch on his vest—‘Frog’ stitched in bold letters—I said, “Right, I’m looking for Frog.”

“He’s out back with Grandpa. Go on through.”

I navigated a cozy living room into the kitchen, the scent of pumpkin pie lingering.

Stepping onto the porch, I saw Clark wrestling playfully with an elderly man as kids piled on.

“He’s great with them, ain’t he?” a woman’s voice said.

I turned to see a striking woman. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Kathy,” she said, extending a hand.

“Aurora,” I replied.

She eyed me. “So, you’re the one everyone’s talking about.”

“Everyone?”

She smirked. “Small towns. Word gets around when Frog brings someone home.”

“Oh, we’re not—it’s not like that,” I stammered.

She grinned. “Well, if you break my baby brother’s heart, I’ll break your face. Got it?”

I blinked, then noticed the mischief in her eyes. “Got it.”

She laughed. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. Mostly.”

“Right,” I said, attempting a smile.

“You don’t look like you run with bikers,” she remarked.

Brushing off my jeans, I said, “I’m only dressed like this for my parents’ dinner. Usually, I’m all decked out in leather.”

She didn’t seem convinced. “So, the stuffy old bat across the street is your mom? Can’t believe we’re having dinner over there.”

“My mom’s not that bad,” I defended.

Kathy shrugged. “Your ma said our Clark wasn’t good enough for her daughter.”

My eyes widened. “When?”

“Weeks ago. My ma wanted to fix you two up,” she said. “But your ma said you had a boyfriend.”

I bit my lip. “Well, I guess my mom was wrong.”

“Yeah, she was.” Kathy’s gaze softened. “It’s cute he has you calling him Clark. He must be in love.”

I smiled nervously.

“Frog!” Kathy called. “Your woman’s here.”

Clark looked up, smiling. “Aurora! Didn’t expect to see you.”

“I needed to talk to you about tonight,” I said.

He jogged over.

Kathy interjected, “I need to talk to you too, Clark. Since you’re staying at the Jenkins’, the kids are staying over.”

“You’re not taking them home?” Clark asked.

“I’m having company later,” she said.

“Oh, I’m not staying at my mom’s tonight,” I said.

Clark added, “Yeah, we’re staying in town.”

I gave him a look.

Kathy took the hint. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to chat,” she said, winking.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted.

Clark whispered, “I’ll get a room tonight, too. No one will know we aren’t together.”

I whispered back, “My mom invited my ex, Mark, to dinner. She still thinks we are meant to be, and I don’t know what you told your family.”

He leaned against the railing. “Told them I found the one.”

“You did not,” I exclaimed.

He gave a half-shrug, a playful glint in his eye, then he captured me in his arms. The biker whispered into my hair, “Quiet now. You’re going to give us away. Told them I’m thinking of popping the question.”

“Holy shit,” I stammered.

“What? You get to make your mom happy, and I can’t make mine? My ma had wanted to introduce us today. She already approves.”

I laughed softly. “This is nuts.”

He smiled. “So, what do you want to do? Fess up to your lies?”

“I have no choice but to pretend we’re together.” I sighed. “But we need to have our story straight.”

“Anything for you,” he mouthed softly, his voice doing things to me. Or maybe it was his rock-hard body pressed against mine.

I focused. “I told my mom you’re not just a biker.”

“That’s true,” he replied, not offering anything else.

This was going to be a disaster.

A shout interrupted us. “Uncle Frog, come back!”

He glanced over. “Duty calls.”

I nodded. “I should get back. Dinner’s soon.”

As I turned, he touched my arm. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll get through it.”

I offered a small smile. “Thanks, Clark. Or should I say Frog?”

He chuckled. “Clark’s fine—for you.”

At least I had an ally.