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

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His inseam and sleeve length? Really? Thomas might have found her attention to detail amusing if not for the fact that he had dozens of questions when it came to the woman, and not one of them focused on her clothing sizes.

Two hours later, he was pacing his bedroom when the telephone on the nightstand rang.

“Tommy, hello,” Nana Jo greeted him when he answered. “I wasn’t sure I would catch you at home.”

A glance at the clock showed it was after ten. Worry came instantly, as it always did where his grandmother was concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine. Just getting excited about the weekend.”

“I am, too.” It was the truth, for the most part. He always looked forward to seeing his grandmother.

“I can’t wait to meet Beth. You’re both still coming, right?”

“On Friday, yes.” He pushed aside his nerves. “In fact, she and I talked about the weekend over dinner tonight.” He had to admit, it felt really good not to have to lie to his grandmother, even if he still wasn’t being completely truthful.

He heard the smile in her voice when Nana Jo asked, “Did you take her to a fancy restaurant with candlelit tables and strolling violinists?”

“I don’t know that they have those anyplace but in old movies,” he replied. “We ate at an Indian restaurant. It was more comfortable than fancy, but our table did have a candle on it.” He recalled the way the flame had reflected in Elizabeth’s dark eyes. “It was nice.”

“An Indian restaurant. I’ve never been to one. It sounds exotic and spicy.”

Thomas smiled at Nana Jo’s assessment. “Elizabeth has an adventurous palate.”

“Is she with you now?”

“Nana Jo, she’s not that kind of girl,” he said on a laugh that only served to mock his libido. “Besides, we both have to work in the morning.”

“I know how young people are now. I’m just pleased you decided to get married rather than move in together. That seems to be what everyone does nowadays. But when it’s right and you’re in love, why not make it legally binding?”

Because Thomas found what his grandmother was saying to make way too much sense, he decided to end the conversation.

Thomas figured he would see Elizabeth again before the weekend, but it didn’t happen. They spoke by telephone a couple of times, and she’d emailed him once to let him know that she’d received his fax. Other than that, nothing.

He had to admit that he was disappointed, especially when she turned down his offer to see a Hitchcock film at the restored Michigan Theater on Thursday night. He’d been sure she would jump at the chance. Indeed, he’d thought of her the moment he’d spied the marquee announcing performance times for Vertigo while driving down East Liberty.

He’d been thinking of her a lot, regardless of—or perhaps because of—the way she’d insisted on shaking his hand when they parted on Wednesday night. But no more face-to-face meetings occurred, let alone sequels to that heated encounter in her living room that still ran through his mind in a never-ending loop.

If Elizabeth were another woman, he might think she was playing hard to get. He didn’t like the fact that if she were another woman it wouldn’t be working.

Thomas was eager to see her again, a fact that had him nervous as he packed his bag for the long weekend early Friday morning. His trepidation increased tenfold when he arrived at her home to collect her just after nine and she met him at the door with no suitcase in sight.

“I appreciate a woman who packs light, but don’t you think you’ll need a few things?” he asked.

She tucked her hands into the back pockets of a pair of khaki capris. “I was thinking we could just go for the day instead of for the entire weekend.”

“The day? My grandmother lives in Charlevoix, Elizabeth.” The city was located on the northwest side of the Lower Peninsula, a good four-hour drive from Ann Arbor even without the added holiday traffic they were likely to encounter despite getting a jump on the weekend.

“I realize that, but the less time we spend with her, the fewer questions she’ll be able to ask. I’ll share the driving,” she offered, as if to sweeten the deal.

“Nana Jo is going to have questions either way and, believe me, she won’t hesitate to ask them, whether in person or over the telephone.” Of course, then answering them would be his problem to deal with rather than hers.

“Do you talk on the phone often?”

“Pretty much every day, but I haven’t seen her in months. I miss her.”

He hadn’t intended to use the sentiment to score points, but Elizabeth softened. He saw it in her expression.

“Tell you what,” he began. “We can come home on Sunday instead of Monday. You mentioned before that you’d canceled some of your plans to accompany me. Maybe the weekend won’t be a total bust for you if we leave a day early.”

“I was just going to go to the beach with Mel and some other girlfriends.” She shrugged. “It was no big deal.”

“Don’t you do anything with your family?”

“My parents have an annual barbecue on the Fourth.”

She hadn’t told him much about them, and even the written biography she’d given him the other evening contained precious little information beyond their names and dates of birth, so he was intrigued. “Good. Then you will be able to attend it. Will your brother be there? Ross, right?”

She shook her head. He’d said something wrong, something that made her sad, though he wasn’t sure what. But then, he knew better than most people that sometimes innocent questions about family could be as wounding as daggers. Hoping to chase the shadows from her eyes, he said, “There’s nothing like a good barbecue to celebrate Independence Day.”

He was relieved when Elizabeth’s smile reappeared. “You don’t know my parents,” she said wryly.

No. Thomas didn’t. He’d always made it a point not to meet the parents of any of the women he spent time with. He didn’t worry about passing parental inspection. Rather, he knew the signal it would send to the other party. Meeting the parents made even the most casual relationship seem serious, at least where the marriage-minded were concerned.

Oddly, he found himself wanting to meet Elizabeth’s, even—or maybe especially—after she asked, “Have you ever had tofu shish kebabs?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“It’s an acquired taste, believe me. The same can be said for soy-and-kelp burgers on unleavened bread.”

“Soy and kelp, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope you’re not too bored with Nana Jo’s tame cooking. I think the most exotic recipe in her repertoire is fried green tomatoes. She started making them after she saw the movie of the same name.”

“I’m nothing like my parents,” she replied hastily, giving Thomas the impression that, just as he was, she was eager to ensure that the apple fell far from the tree and then kept right on rolling.

Elizabeth invited him inside while she packed her bag. Howie wasn’t there. Mel had taken him back to her town house. If the dog were there, Thomas had little doubt it would be growling menacingly. It was if the hound knew that something about his owner’s relationship with Thomas wasn’t all it seemed to be.

Thomas paced the living room. His gaze kept straying to the love seat, specifically to the arm where he’d sat the other evening while he and Elizabeth had eagerly started helping one another out of their clothes. Sanity had prevailed, but he’d been going crazy ever since. After fifteen of the longest minutes of his life, Elizabeth finally emerged with a small carry-on-sized suitcase in hand.

“You really do pack light.”

She shrugged. “A couple pairs of walking shorts, two shirts and nightclothes don’t take up much room. You didn’t specify a dress code.”

She sounded defiant.

“There isn’t one. My grandmother is pretty laid-back.” He pointed toward the bag. “A bathing suit might come in handy. There’s a nice stretch of beach nearby.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I burn easily.”

And blushed easily, too, he noted.

“Well, I brought mine, but suit yourself.” He took her bag. “Ready?”

In answer, she started for the front door, which she carefully locked behind them. Then they were on their way, heading toward the interstate in his car as Bruce Springsteen belted out “Born in the U.S.A.” on the radio.

For better or for worse, there was no turning back now.

CHAPTER NINE (#ulink_bb4861b3-d7e5-53f5-810e-1a626852e15e)

ELIZABETH hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but a little over two hours into their trip she dozed off. Before then she and Thomas hadn’t spoken much, other than to comment on the good weather—forecasters were calling for sunshine and warm temperatures through the early part of the following week—and go over a few details of the visit.

She missed their easy conversation, but keeping things all business was for the best. The lines of their relationship weren’t likely to become too blurry that way. So, she’d pulled out a magazine she’d brought with her and made a point of reading it. Or, rather, pretending to read it. Now that she was awake, she couldn’t recall a single article.

She straightened in her seat and stretched before sending a sheepish smile Thomas’s way.

“Sorry about that. I guess I drifted off.”

“That’s all right. You only snored a little.” He winked after saying so. She could only hope he was kidding.

“Where are we?”

“About fifteen minutes south of Charlevoix. I thought we’d visit with my grandmother a bit before checking in at the bed-and-breakfast where we’ll be staying.”

In separate rooms. He’d made that clear after she’d made a point of asking him about it via email. Still, they would be under the same roof and that was enough to have her nerves and newfound needs percolating on high.

Elizabeth had never been to Charlevoix. Though her family had moved around a lot during her childhood, they’d done so mainly in the much more populated southern part of the state. So, she stared out the window as they made their way down Bridge Street with its quaint assortment of shops and eateries, acting the part of the tourist. Thomas indulged her, pointing out a fudge shop and other sights of interest, and giving her some background. The vast expanse of Lake Michigan stretched to the west of the town. The much smaller Lake Charlevoix was to the east.

“It’s pretty here.”

“It is. Nana Jo likes it, even though the winters can be harsh.”

“She stays here year-round?”

“Yes.” He chuckled then. “She’s quite adamant that she’ll never become one of those snowbirds who flies to Florida before the first snowflake falls. She and my late grandfather had always planned to retire here. He died when I was six. Heart attack. She was still set on moving to Charlevoix eventually. She was already looking at places at the time of the accident. Then she put everything on hold.”

For him.

“Sorry about your grandfather,” Elizabeth murmured. Josephine O’Keefe had lost her husband and only child in the span of two years. It wasn’t only pity Elizabeth felt for the other woman, but admiration. She’d rolled up her sleeves and put her own plans on hold to raise a young, equally grief-stricken boy. “Your grandmother sounds like an amazing woman.”

Thomas glanced over. His hand left the steering wheel to give hers a gentle squeeze. “She is. You’re going to like her.”

Elizabeth didn’t need his reassurance. She already did, and it was a realization that made her all the more uneasy.

Nana Jo lived in a condominium complex not far from downtown, but only a short distance from the lake.

“Well, this is it,” Thomas said, pulling into the parking lot. He sounded every bit as nervous as Elizabeth felt when he asked, “Ready?”

“As I’m ever going to be,” she murmured.

She opened the car door before he had a chance to come around and do it for her, earning a frown. The day was warm, a fact the automobile’s air-conditioning had done a good job of camouflaging. The sun’s heat would have been unbearable if not for the stiff breeze blowing in off the lakes. It snatched at her neatly ordered hair and sent it flying around her face.

It also brought with it the appealing scents of summer, including the smoke from someone’s barbecue. Before she’d dozed off, Thomas had asked if she wanted to stop for a bite to eat. She’d told him no, that she wasn’t hungry. At the time she hadn’t been. Nerves had tied her stomach into knots and she had been eager to get to their final destination. Now, her stomach growled and she found herself wishing for the last-minute reprieve of a meal.

Before she could say so to Thomas, however, she heard a squeal of delight. She turned to see a stylish older woman with a short cap of silver hair bustling across the parking lot toward them with her smile stretching nearly as wide as her arms.

“Tommy!”

He hugged the woman back, picking her up off her feet in the process. Elizabeth smiled as she watched them and something inside of her shifted to boggy ground once again. What was it Mel always said? You can judge how a man will treat you by the way he treats his mother. Nana Jo wasn’t Thomas’s mother, but close enough that her friend’s pearls of wisdom applied. God help her.

“It’s good to see you, too,” he managed to respond after a moment.

Raw emotion thickened his voice, leaving no doubt as to the deep love Thomas had for his grandmother, the deep love they had for one another. Tragedy had made their bond all the stronger. Elizabeth admired it. She admired them for the way they obviously cherished it.

Two expectant gazes focused on her then. Showtime, she thought, wishing wildly, before she could catch herself, that the moment could be real. That she could be the love of Thomas’s life, brought home to meet the woman who’d raised him.

“And you’re Tommy’s Beth.”

Even if Elizabeth had had time to stick out a hand in a gesture of greeting, it wouldn’t have mattered. Nana Jo closed the distance between them in short order and pulled her into an embrace that, while not strong enough to break bones, thoroughly shattered Elizabeth’s preconceptions of Josephine O’Keefe as a frail octogenarian nearing the end of her days.

“H-h-hi.” The single syllable sputtered out along with Elizabeth’s breath as the woman rocked her side to side.

“Nana Jo, stop. You’ll crush her,” Thomas chided lightly when the embrace lengthened.

His grandmother pulled back on a robust laugh. “I’m sorry, my dear. It’s just that I’m so tickled to finally meet you. Tommy has told me so much about you.”

She patted Elizabeth’s cheek before grasping her lightly by the arms and taking a step back. Then she frowned.

“I have to admit, I pictured you a little differently.”

“Different h-how?” Elizabeth cast a nervous glance toward Thomas. What sort of description had he given her?

“I don’t know. Just … just thinking out loud and being insufferably rude,” she apologized.

“That’s not necessary. I can honestly say you’re not quite how I pictured you, either.” If Nana Jo’s health was failing it sure didn’t show.

“It’s just that you’re such a tiny thing,” mused Nana Jo, who stood half a head taller and had a more substantial build. She smiled at Thomas. “The breeze coming off Lake Michigan will blow her away if you’re not careful to keep a tight hold on her, Tommy.”

“I plan to do just that.”

His smile was as warm as the gaze he sent Elizabeth. Though the words were said for his grandmother’s benefit, Elizabeth’s breathing hitched and she smiled back.

Nana Jo grinned as well, before demanding of herself, “Goodness, where are my manners? You must think me a horrible hostess, Beth, waylaying you in the parking lot like this.” She winked from behind a pair of red-rimmed bifocals. “I plead guilty to watching for your arrival from my windows and then hurrying down here the minute I spotted you, too eager to wait for you to ring the doorbell. Pop open the trunk of that fancy car of yours, Tommy. Let’s get your bags and go inside where we can all sit down and have a proper visit. I just made a fresh pitcher of iced tea and some cookies.”

Elizabeth could see where Thomas had learned his polite ways, but that wasn’t what had her casting an urgent glance in his direction.

“I—I thought we were staying at a bed- and-breakfast in town, Thomas?”

“We are.” Both his expression and tone were apologetic when he told his grandmother, “I’ve booked rooms for Elizabeth and I at the Daniels Cottage over on Edgewater, Nana.”

“We didn’t want to impose,” Elizabeth explained.