Page 32 of Pretty Desperate (Pine Village #6)

I glance down at my ringing cell phone and cringe. I know what this call is about, and even though I don’t want to deal with it now, I can’t avoid it forever. If I do, they’re liable just to show up when I least expect it and demand answers.

Looking over at Emmalynn, my Saturday employee, who is reorganizing the pastry case from this morning’s breakfast rush, I hold up my phone and say, “My mom. I need to take this real quick.”

She waves off my comment. “Go talk to your mom. I’ve got this,” she says before returning her attention to the cinnamon rolls.

“Hey, Mom,” I greet, heading toward my small office off the kitchen and close the door.

“Kameron Markley?” she practically bellows into the phone. “You’re dating Kameron Markley?”

I close my eyes for a brief moment and take a deep breath. This level of excitement is exactly what I expected. “Yes.”

“That’s…so wonderful! He’s such a nice young man,” she starts, barely taking a breath as she continues, “I know he’s had a lot of tragedy in his life, and that’s exactly why he needs you.

You’re a ray of sunshine. And his restaurant?

Well, when Dad took me last month for our anniversary, it was simply amazing.

He’s done so much for this town, that’s for sure. And to know he’s dating my daughter?”

She squeals.

Like actually squeals in exhilaration.

“I still can’t believe this,” she says, a bit calmer than a few seconds ago. “I wish I wouldn’t have had to find out while at the grocery store though. You know, everyone is talking about the two of you.”

“I’m sure they are,” I reply with a yawn, knowing exactly how this town operates. We’re surely some of the biggest news right now. The only thing I can hope is last night’s public announcement of TD and Ellie having a baby will quickly replace Kameron and I dating as top chatter.

“Tired, huh? You probably had a late night,” she states with a giggle.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I push thoughts of spending the night at Kameron’s from my brain. That’s the last thing I need to imagine while on the phone with my mother. “I didn’t get to bed at my normal time,” I start. “I went to the football game.”

“And then stayed at Kameron’s.”

My heart falls into my shoes.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me all the dirty details,” Mom says, making me cringe, because telling her the details is the last thing I want to do.

“I ran into Lucy this morning, and she said your car was parked in his driveway all night, and then Harry was up to use the bathroom because his high blood pressure pills cause frequent urination and saw you leave.”

I don’t need to know about Harry’s overactive bladder…

“Anyway, I’m glad you’re having fun. You’ve worked so hard over the last few years, and I love the fact you’re finally putting yourself out there. Who knows, maybe he’s the one !” she proclaims, sending my heart rate into overdrive.

“Mom,” I warn, trying to come up with the right words. “It’s new.”

It is.

It’s also fake, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Yes, I know, but still, a woman can hope, right? All I want is for my daughter to find forever love, and maybe give me a grandchild or two along the way.”

I close my eyes, my gut churning and the lie we’re telling like a bitter taste on my tongue. “Mom,” I mutter, tears filling my eyes.

She’s so excited.

“I know, I know, honey. I promise not to push you, I mean, it’s not like I’ve pulled your grandmother’s wedding ring out of the safe yet,” she states with a laugh.

My heart races.

“There’s time for that, but not much. You’re thirty-seven already, Jillian, and he’s what…forty?” Before I can mutter a reply, she adds, “Oh, Dad and I want to officially meet him. Soon.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Maybe we can all get together for dinner? I know he’s busy at the restaurant, but perhaps he can join us for a quick meal, like he’s done with you a few times over the last week or so.”

Of course she’d hear about that too. This town loves to talk.

“I’ll ask,” I reply.

“Great, just let me know. I can always cook dinner one night too, if he’d rather come here for a more intimate get-to-know-you type of gathering. I’ll cook pot roast, but I’m sure it’s not as good as his,” she says, referring to her go-to dish when she’s entertaining.

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” I state.

“Hmm, maybe I need a new dish? Try something different for a change?”

“Whatever you’d want to make would be perfect,” I assure her.

“Well, just let me know what works best for you two.” Again, she squeals. “I’m just so dang happy right now. My daughter and Kameron Markley. He’s such a catch, Jillian. I can’t believe no one has snatched him up yet.”

Me either, if I’m being honest, but I do understand his commitment to building his restaurant. I’ve felt the same drive and determination over the last five years too.

“Anyway, I’ll let you go. I know you’re at work. Keep me posted on dinner with Kameron,” she sings into the phone.

“I will.”

“Great, love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too,” I mutter, hanging up after telling her goodbye.

I drop my phone onto my desk and close my eyes.

I hate this.

I hate lying.

I thought fake dating Kameron would help get my parents off my back, but now that we’re involved, it seems to help fuel her desire even more.

Sure, she said she wasn’t pushing, but she still stuck plenty of digs in there.

Not to mention her bringing up my grandma’s engagement ring.

She wanted me to have it when I was dating Davis, but he insisted on me having something new.

Fat good that did for either of us…

Just goes to show how much he really knew me. I would have loved to receive my grandmother’s engagement ring. We were so close when I was growing up, and I was left completely heartbroken the day she passed away when I was about to turn twenty.

A knock sounds on my door, and I look up with a start. I get up and move to open it, expecting to find Emmalynn standing there, but when I pull open the door, that’s not who’s waiting on the other side.

It’s Kameron.

And he’s holding a bouquet of flowers.

Not just any flowers either.

Hydrangeas.

My favorite.

He remembered.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my eyes bouncing between the beautiful blooms and the gorgeous man holding them.

“Well, I know you’ve had a long week, and you’re a little short on sleep,” he starts, flashing me a wicked grin, “so I thought I’d just swing by with a surprise.”

“They’re beautiful,” I say, taking the vase of flowers and inhaling.

“Almost as beautiful as you,” he says, swiping a strand of hair off my cheek and brushing my cheek with his thumb.

My heart leaps and pirouettes in my chest. Little butterflies take flight in my stomach. And my mind? It pictures the happily ever after I’ve always wanted.

Yeah, I’m in deep shit.

I’m falling for my fake boyfriend.