Page 14

Thirteen

AN HOUR OF RIDING in silence later, Grey shifted, the hardness of his brow easing. His gaze flicked to the dash clock. “We really ought to get to work, or we’re going to run out of time before we get to the retreat.”

“Right.” Riley had distanced herself from the purpose of their drive, her mind so wrapped up in his pain and her own. “The retreat.”

He gave her a sideways glance, assessing her before looking back at the road. “We should go over our relationship.”

Our relationship —how she wished that were true in the romantic sense.

“You said we had to go over things we should know about each other, so why don’t you start. I have no clue.”

“Men rarely do,” she said, bringing a soft chuckle to her lips. The mood lightened—easing off the indwelling pain. “Okay...” She shifted in her seat to face him better, resting her back against the locked passenger door. “Let’s start with how we met.”

“Perhaps at a gallery showing in town?”

“That works. Maybe the Gaiman Gallery, which would tie us to Veronica now that she and Brad are running it.”

“Great. One down. What’s next?”

“How long have we been together?”

He tapped the wheel with his free hand, his other still entwined with hers. She wondered how long that would last, not that she was complaining. She was more than content to hold it all the way there. Speaking of there, she wondered what exactly they were walking into—the environment, the people. What would it take to pull off her and Grey as a couple?

“I’m thinking a year,” he said.

“A year?” She dipped her chin. “We should be engaged, then.”

He coughed. “Engaged?”

“Yes. If two people our age are together that long, why not be engaged?”

He arched a brow. “Our age?”

“So you’re slightly older than me.”

“Slightly? I’d hardly call a decade slightly older.”

“At our age, a difference like that doesn’t matter.” At least it didn’t to her. “Unless ... you view me as too young for you?” She was being outright bold, but now was the time to discover how he really felt about her under the guise of a fake relationship. At least that happened in novels all the time, so why not in real life? “Grey?” she nudged at his silence. “Do you view me as too young for you?”

“No,” he said, and her heart leapt. “But I do believe I’m too old for you.”

She frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“You should be with someone younger, someone...with less baggage.”

“Baggage?”

With tenderness, he eased his hand from hers, clamping onto the wheel. “I think we’re getting off track. If a year is too long, how is nine months?”

She didn’t like the apparent change in subject, but after all he’d shared, she wasn’t going to force him to keep going down that path. It was time for some lightheartedness. “Nine months works. It’s long enough to be serious, but not too long people will wonder why we haven’t taken the next step.”

“Okay. Nine months it is. What’s next?”

They ran through a slew of get-to-know-you questions—favorite color, favorite foods, how they spent their time together. She liked building a life with him, even if it wasn’t real—though that part stung.

“Is that enough?” Grey asked, turning onto the last stretch of road leading to the retreat.

She glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes left. “Nope. We have a few more.” A few more minutes for a few deeper relationship questions. “Whose house do we spend more time at?”

“Yours,” he answered on a dime.

She tilted her head. “Why mine?”

“Because that’s where we usually hang out.”

“In real life, yes, but in a relationship, I should be well acquainted with your home, and I can count on one hand the times I’ve been there. So tell me about it. What is your favorite part of your house? How do we spend time there?”

“Favorite part?” He tapped the wheel. “I haven’t thought about it, but I suppose my inner courtyard.”

“Really?” She pulled her bent leg in tighter. “Same with mine. I love the open space and the sun beaming into the heart of my home, bringing light on all four sides through the sliding glass.”

He smiled but there was tentativeness there.

“What?” she nudged.

“It probably sounds silly . . .” He shrugged. “ButI love to garden.”

Garden? She never would have guessed, but with his meticulous attention to detail and orderliness, she could picture him taking fastidious care of his plants.

“That’s cool.” She loved learning more about him. “And how do we spend our time there?”

“Out on the patio most of the time with a fire going in a chiminea, wrapped up in blankets on the couch, looking at the stars.”

“Sounds perfect,” she said without thinking. “I mean for our cover story.”

“Right,” he said, “for our made-up story.”

Why was there a tinge of disappointment in his tone? Did he want things to be real too? Or was she reading too much into it? Play ing a couple ... she was going to have to walk a fine line between the game and her real feelings and not let the two mix. As if that were possible. She just prayed she didn’t come out of this scorched.

****

“Almost there,” Grey said. “What’s next?”

“Hmm. Okay, now the more personal questions.”

“ More personal?”

Riley rubbed her hands together. “Time to get to the nitty-gritty. When was our first kiss?”

He arched a brow. “You really think someone will ask that?”

“It’s good to cover all the bases just in case. Hmm...” She tapped her chin. “I think you first kissed me at your place under the stars.”

“Sounds good.” Beyond good.

She shifted to face him better. “How did each of us know the other was the one?”

He choked, then smothered it with a cough. Could she see right through him, or was it a harmless question? “The one?” he managed.

“The one you want to marry someday.”

A smile curled on his lips, but he kept his gaze averted and fixed on the falling snow. If she saw his face, the happiness he struggled to contain, she’d know the truth of how he longed for things to be. She was the one. The one he wanted, the one he loved, but she could never know that. It wouldn’t be fair, so he’d keep up the masquerade and enjoy their blissful time together, even if it was pretending on her part.

“Oh, and speaking of kissing, we’ll be expected to show public affection.”

“Agreed.” Wholeheartedly.

“And they’re going to put us in the same room.”

He coughed. “Same room?”

“It’s a couples’ retreat. Roni said they’d booked a room for us. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No.” He could handle it. Rein in his feelings and play the part, couldn’t he?

“Great. So rolling with that, what side of the bed do you sleep on?”

He choked. Surely, she wasn’t suggesting they’d actually share a bed. Not Riley. “You really think they’ll ask that?”

“When women get talking, all kinds of things come up in chitchat. If he steals the covers, hogs the bed, is always on my side, and so on.”

“I see. Okay, so theoretically let’s go with me taking the right side of the bed.”

“Right. Theoretically.”

“You’re not suggesting...?”

“No, of course not.” She laughed.

He forced a laugh. “I’ll sleep on the floor or find a suitable place.”

“With us sharing a room, they’re going to assume...”

“Assume...?”

She dipped her head. “You know, that we’re...”

“Oh. Right.” Clearly not happening. Neither would do such a thing, but they could pretend in public.

“We should keep up the ruse.”

He tapped the wheel. “How?”

“Lots of public affection.”

He cleared his throat. “Not a problem.” Not a problem at all.