A Pretend Proposal: The Fiancée Fiasco / Faking It to Making It / The Wedding Must Go On

“Creepy in the extreme.”

“Wasn’t it, though? I was nine the first time I saw that movie. It was on television one rainy Saturday afternoon, and I watched it while Nana Jo was hosting her bridge club. I was awake all night long.”

“I was eleven. Slept on the floor in my parents’ room for a week.”

“I wouldn’t admit this to just anyone, but seeing as how you and I are engaged …” He shrugged. “I slept on my grandmother’s floor for two.” They both laughed. “It came to a head when she tried to take me to the playground and I begged to stay home.”

“What did she say?”

“Well, she was mystified.”

“Understandable.”

“But she didn’t press.” His smile turned nostalgic. “That’s her way. Or at least it was back then. She’s run out of patience, apparently. As for The Birds, I eventually confessed all.”

“And?” Elizabeth broke apart the wooden chopsticks that had come with their meal.

“Nana Jo took me to the local pet store and subjected me to an hour in the bird aisle. Even with every last one of those birds confined in cages, it was terrifying.”

“Did she really do that?”

Thomas glanced at the fork she’d set out for him before picking up his pair of chopsticks and breaking them apart. “She felt it was the best way for me to confront my fear. In fact, she bought me a cockatiel.”

“Did it work?”

“Yes. I was cured thereafter, but hopelessly hooked on Hitchcock.” He attempted to pick up a bite of his meal. Chicken and rice slipped from between the chopsticks. His expression reflected his dismay.

“What did you name the bird?”

His frown of a moment before turned into a sly grin. “What do you think?”

“Hitchcock.”

“Exactly. Confronting fear head on, remember?”

They both laughed. Then Elizabeth took a bite of the food. The hot peppers in the Kung Pao chicken made her eyes water, even as her tongue caught fire. She set her chopsticks aside and fanned her face.

“Oh, my God! I need a glass of water.” She scooted off her chair. “I never thought to ask if you wanted something to drink. I have wine, Cabernet Sauvignon.” It was a date-night staple, or so Mel always claimed. Elizabeth added, “Or some diet cola if you’d prefer.”

“Water’s fine.”

“Tap?”

“With a couple ice cubes if you’ve got ‘em.”

When she returned to the table with their glasses, he was again struggling to pick up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks. This one wound up in his lap after leaving a trail of sauce and bits of rice down the front of his shirt. His smile was sheepish, and all the more appealing because of it, as he blotted the fabric with a napkin. “I’m not as good at this as you are, I’m afraid.”

“But you just keep trying.”

“That’s me. Once I set my mind to doing something, I don’t give up easily.”

“I’m the same way. Determined.” She laughed. “Mel calls it being stubborn.”

“I guess we both are, then.”

His smile was warm, yet she had to suppress a shiver. Elizabeth cleared her throat.

“You’re holding them wrong.” She picked up her pair again and demonstrated. Even though Thomas did better this time, his grip was still a little off.

“That’s an improvement, but it’s more like this.” She reached over to adjust the placement of his middle finger between the two sticks. Just that little bit of contact sent a spark of heat zipping up her spine, every bit as potent as the previous evening’s kiss. She snatched her hand back and glanced up to find him watching her. His dark eyes were narrowed and had grown hooded.

Was he recalling that kiss as well?

She was being foolish, she decided, when he made a couple of pinching motions in the air.

“I think I’ve got it,” he declared before attempting to pick up another piece of chicken. This time he brought it to his mouth without incident. He raised his empty chopsticks in triumph afterward.

“Very good,” she said.

“Well, you’re a good teacher.”

She wrinkled her nose at the compliment. “Nah. You’re a smart man from what I’ve observed. You would have figured it out for yourself eventually.”

“Still, you deserve a reward.” He picked up a second piece of chicken and, after making sure it wasn’t going to fall from the chopsticks, offered it to her.

Elizabeth must have lost her mind, because she leaned closer and opened her mouth. All the while, her gaze stayed on Thomas rather than the prize he offered. Even as her lips closed around the chopsticks and heat—both that inspired by the hot peppers in the recipe and that inspired by need—wound through her, she maintained eye contact.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the sort of woman who enjoyed Kung Pao chicken,” he said slowly. “It’s got a lot of kick, especially from the restaurant I patronize.”

“Hence the sweet and sour pork and chicken stir-fry,” she replied.

His smile was lightning quick and appealing.

“I was hedging my bets with a good assortment.”

“That was very thoughtful, but as it turns out there was no need. I like spice. Lots of it, in fact.” She sipped her water, took her time swallowing. Regardless, the heat not only remained, but also burned even hotter.

That studious look was back on his face. “I have a feeling there’s a lot more to you, Elizabeth Morris, than first meets the eye.”

She held his gaze. “The same is true for most people, I think.”

It was definitely true for Thomas. She’d had him pegged as a smooth operator based on his handsome face and admitted commitment-phobia. Add in that kiss and she’d known he was vastly experienced when it came to casual physical relationships, making him exactly the sort of man any woman who valued keeping her heart whole knew to avoid. But that opinion shifted once she figured in his manners and his deep love for his grandmother. Just as she had the night before, Elizabeth found herself marveling at all of his layers and almost wishing they were involved in the sort of relationship that allowed one to delve deeper, explore and, eventually, see more.

“What you’re telling me is you can’t judge a book by its cover,” he said.

“Am I sensing some regrets? Perhaps I’m not the right woman for this … job after all.”

“No. No regrets.” But he was frowning when he said, “I have a feeling you’re perfect.”