Chapter 4 Amanda

Chapter 4

Amanda

“One week,” I say faintly as I unlock the door to the cabin at the edge of Tinsel that I use every time I visit my family. After the cookout, Dane drove us back to Lorelei’s house so I could get my rental car, and then he followed me out here. We won over his cousin, so we’ve agreed that the fake engagement is still on. “ One week. And they’re planning an actual wedding. An actual wedding. ”

“If they don’t think it’s real, this won’t work. And they’re right. If this were real, it would be the wedding of the century in Tinsel.”

He doesn’t seem aggravated. Just patient with a side of pensive as he follows me inside. We’re both pulling suitcases, and he has a backpack too. Chili trudges along like it’s an insult to his doghood that he’s not sleeping in front of a fan right now.

“My grandma called while we were on our way out here. I lied to her. I mean, it’s the truth that your cousin is setting up a cake, but it’s a lie that we’re getting married.” I will not hyperventilate. I will not hyperventilate. I will not hyperventilate.

I did this to myself.

Now I get to face the consequences.

“Her heart okay this time?” Dane asks.

I sigh. “Now she says she’s getting the flowers. Not because she approves, but because your family would screw them up.”

He sighs too.

“Can we honestly pull this off in a week?” I ask him.

“Are we willing to live with what happens if we don’t try?”

And there’s the kicker.

If our families weren’t feuding, would I still be expected to move home and work in the bakery?

Probably.

But if there wasn’t that pride that went along with running a better business than the Silvers do, would it be easier for Grandma to swallow the idea that the Gingerbread House might not stay in our family forever?

I don’t know.

I don’t want to think about it.

So instead, I think about something possibly worse. “Lorelei’s never going to talk to me again when we break up.”

Dane shakes his head. “Yes, she will.”

I’m not panicking. I’m—okay, yes. I’m panicking.

All the things that could go wrong—“The next step is that we actually get married because I can’t—I can’t—”

Because I can’t tell my family the truth that I don’t want to give up the life I love in New York to help my mom run the bakery, and I’ll be letting Dane down if I bail on this fake engagement before seeing if we can carry it through to a point that our families attempt to get along.

I feel like I’m seven years old again, pulling a fire alarm at school because I wanted to see what would happen, and then lying to everyone about it being me. Knowing how disappointed my parents would be if they ever found out.

Doing stupid, rash, impulsive things without considering the consequences.

And now look where we are.

“Hey.” Dane’s hands settle on my shoulders, and it’s like I’m connected to the earth again.

Not floating in a bubble of panic.

“We can call it quits anytime,” he says. “You want out, we’ll end it now. This isn’t about torturing ourselves.”

I drop my head to his chest like we’ve done this a thousand times. Who knew being fake engaged to someone for a few hours could make them feel like your best friend? “No. This is bigger than us. If I can’t—if I can’t be what my family needs, then maybe I can be what Tinsel itself needs. I’m okay. I am. I’m just being a little melodramatic. That’s all.”

“You’ve had a lot thrown at you today.”

“Says the man who woke up this morning with no clue that he’d be going to bed fake engaged to a complete mess.”

“Eh. I could use more fun in my life.”

I suck in a deep breath. “So we’re doing this.”

“I’m in as long as you are. We have Esme and Lorelei on our side, and I think I can sway my dad with a few more days. That’s practically half of the family with just one horrifically awkward cookout.”

So many objections swirl in my head.

But what if I lose my mom and grandma over this?

How will I pay everyone back for the wedding when it doesn’t happen?

What if Lorelei truly does hate us when we break up or she finds out this is fake?

What if I’m never welcome in Tinsel again?

I shake my head and pull away, grabbing my suitcase as a shield from all my fears. “I can take the couch.”

“Take the bed. I was sleeping on the couch at Lorelei’s anyway.”

“No, really, I—”

“Do we have to arm wrestle for the couch?”

He’s teasing, but there’s a stubbornness in his eyes that tells me he’ll fight to be a gentleman about it.

“I’ll take the bed tonight, but if you don’t sleep well, you take it tomorrow. Deal?”

He makes a noncommittal noise as he sets his backpack on the couch. “Spare pillow anywhere?”

“Hallway closet. I’ll grab you one after I put my bag away.”

I duck down the short hallway to the bedroom, looking for breathing room and knowing that between the heat and this fake engagement, I might not find it for a while.

This is good for everyone, I tell myself. It’s good for Tinsel. It’s good for Dane and Lorelei. Clearing the negativity is good for Mom and Grandma.

Why are good things so hard sometimes?

I wash my face to scrub off the remnants of sweat from the day, then head back out to the living room, completely forgetting to stop at the linen closet.

But Dane has helped himself. He’s laying out a Christmas quilt on the couch in the living room.

“Little hot for that, isn’t it?” I say.

“Protecting your couch from my sweat.” He pulls his shirt over his head, leaving him standing bare chested in the middle of the cozy little hideaway. “Your grandma say anything about how she’s feeling? Think she’ll be up to meeting me tomorrow?”

My mouth is suddenly too dry to answer, courtesy entirely of being this close to a buff, half-naked man who’s been my unexpected savior today, but I make myself talk anyway. “She—she’s good. Not happy that the doctor told her to lay off sampling the gingerbread. Upset that your family got to meet me before she gets to meet you. But yes. She says she wants to meet you to make sure you’re worthy of marrying me. And to decide how much she wants to spend on our wedding flowers.”

He stares at me for a long moment.

“I’ll pay her back for the flowers. And I’ll pay Esme back for the cake.” How, I don’t know. Somehow. I will. I have to. No matter how many extra dog walks I have to sign up for. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew this was a farce and let them pay for it anyway. “Also, we should probably talk about how we’re going to break up since it’s going to have to happen in the next week.”

“As friends,” he says without hesitation, “who realized the spark isn’t there for a romantic relationship the way it should be, but who have no regrets about trying to make it work.”

The fact that he doesn’t have to pause to think about it hurts my heart.

Just a little.

Like the barest amount.

I can hardly feel it anymore.

Chili lifts his head from his spot on another folded quilt on the floor beside the couch, and he snorts at me.

Did the dog just call me a liar?

I shake my head and look back at Dane. “That’s brilliant. So long as we’re friends, they’ll have to stay friends too.”

“Or at least something closer.”

“We need to tell everyone we want a simple wedding. I don’t want everyone going to extreme lengths and spending a lot of money, but they need to believe we’re getting married.”

“Amanda . . .”

“What?”

“When someone from my family is engaged to someone from your family, there will be no stopping our families from trying to one-up each other in planning this wedding, and I don’t think anyone in town will discourage it.” He holds his phone up to show me a text from Esme.

Pia is so excited that you two are uniting our families that she wants to make the biggest, best wedding cake that Tinsel has ever seen. She’s expecting you Friday morning to pick flavors. This is the best news ever.

Wow. Guilt grows faster than my favorite hot dog vendor can serve up a half dozen sauerkraut-and-mustard dogs. And he’s working on breaking a world record.

“But it’ll be worth it if our families call a truce,” he adds. “Even better if they actually start to realize they might like and appreciate each other the way they like and appreciate everyone else in town.”

Chili grunts. I’m guessing that’s agreement.

I sink into the chair next to the couch, remember belatedly that it has a broken spring that likes to poke people in the butt—I should definitely warn him about that spot—and slide to the floor by the dog instead. “Do you honestly think this will work?”

Dane’s gaze settles on mine. “What are we out if it doesn’t?”

I stroke his dog’s soft fur and contemplate the question. “My place in my family,” I whisper.

Chili whimpers and shuffles so he can lay his head on my thigh.

Sweet dog. I like him.

Dane shifts onto the couch. “If your family can’t accept the life you want to live for yourself, then they don’t deserve you. And I’d say that no matter how you want to live your life and no matter who your family is.”

“They’re family .”

“Being family doesn’t give anyone a free pass to dismiss your goals or to treat you like you’re not capable of deciding how to live your own life, or like they own you. Being family means respecting each other and the choices you each make. Would you ask your grandma to quit being a gingerbread baker to go live in New York with you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then they can fuck off.” He clears his throat. “And please consider that said far more politely than it came out.”

There is so much more to unpack here. “Does your family not support you living the life you want for yourself too? They sounded so proud of you tonight.”

They did.

When they weren’t muttering about his choice in women.

“They just wanted you to know I’m the better one of the two of us. Their opinion. Not mine. All based on the dumb feud.” He clears his throat and looks away. “I emailed you a get-to-know-you questionnaire I found online. Things we need to be able to answer about each other if we’re going to pull this off.”

I can’t concentrate on a questionnaire right now.

Not when my heart is aching so hard for him.

How is it possible to have this much compassion and worry over a man I barely know?

“My grandma will likely accuse you of using me just so that a Silver can get their hands on the Gingerbread House,” I tell him. I don’t want to. It feels like kicking him when he’s already down. But he needs to know.

Instead of seeming offended or defensive, though, he rolls his eyes. “She’s on to me. I’m an evil family-feud-loving mastermind who lives to destroy the lives of my family’s enemies. Mwaha. Ha. Ha ha.”

I don’t even try to suppress a smile. “You need to work on your evil villain laugh. That wouldn’t scare a toddler.”

“I thought fiancées were supposed to support a guy’s dreams.”

Was he always this funny? Why didn’t I know he was funny? “I’ll do better tomorrow when I’m more used to being someone’s fiancée.”

He shakes his head, clearly amused this time, then gets up. “C’mon, Chili. Outside one last time before bed. And clearly, we all need sleep.”

“I’ll take him.”

Dane lifts a brow at me.

“I’m a professional dog walker. I think I can handle Mr. Cutie-Patootie Lazybones here. Plus, I promised my mom I’d check the mailbox.” And I need to breathe a little more.

And think more.

And process more.

It’s been quite a day.

“You good with Amanda taking you out, Chili?” Dane asks the dog.

Chili grumbles, but he pulls himself to his feet and nudges my hand.

“Who’s the sweetest boy?” I say while I scratch behind his ears.

He harrumphs, but he also licks my face.

Just once.

But he does it.

Victory.

I love winning dogs over. They’re my favorite kind of people.

“How long have you had Chili?” I ask while I get up to grab the dog’s leash.

“Seven years.”

“Did you have dogs before that?”

“Always.”

I smile.

I like dog people almost as much as I like dogs. “We’ll be back. Make yourself comfortable. And I’m serious that you can have the bedroom if you want it.”

“Good here. Thanks.”

He grabs his laptop again while we head for the door. He mentioned that he’s working remotely this week rather than taking the whole week off for vacation, so I expect he’ll be grabbing his computer a lot when we’re here.

Not spending his time getting to know his fake fiancée.

Which is probably how it should be.

Outside, crickets are chirping. Frogs out on the lake behind the cabin are singing too. There’s no moon, so the stars are bright overhead, and I even see a shooting star.

The temperatures have dipped enough that it’s easy to take a full breath of the night air while Chili does his business, even if it’s still warm. We make a very slow walk to the mailbox, but I don’t mind.

I walk a couple of older dogs who can’t be rushed either. They make me slow down and take in the world differently than when I’m clipping along with a half dozen energetic friends on leashes.

And tonight, I get to enjoy the night and mull over everything that’s happened since I arrived in Tinsel this afternoon. I want to call Yazmin, my roommate and New York bestie, but with the windows to the cabin open, I don’t dare.

I don’t want Dane to think I’m spilling the beans of our secret to anyone who’d blabber here.

But I do text her on the way back to the house after I grab the single envelope from the mailbox.

FYI—I kinda did a thing and got accidentally engaged to my home BFF’s brother. We’re trying to fix our families’ long-standing hatred of each other. If my mom or grandma call, can you please tell them that you adored Dane the few times you’ve met him, that you like that he’s vegetarian like you, and that you’re thrilled for us getting married in Vegas next month?

She calls instantly.

I don’t answer, but text her again.

Can’t talk. I’ll call tomorrow when I’m alone. Tell my mom I’m madly in love, and then tell me everything you tell her if she messages. Promise?

Girl, you owe me a story and dinner for this. I. Am. Dying. WHAT IS GOING ON? she texts back.

My big mouth and a very kind man who can see the good in things that I can’t. Promise I’ll call ASAP with more deets , I tell her.

Waiting impatiently , she texts back.

Chili and I reach the house, and that’s when I realize something’s weird about the envelope I grabbed from the mailbox.

It doesn’t have a name or address on it.

Someone dropped it off.

And when we open it up and see what’s inside, all three of us—even Chili—gasp.

Today’s been full of surprises.

And it seems there are even more on the way.