A Pretend Proposal. Jackie Braun
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seeing her so troubled, especially when there’s no need to be. I’m fine. Perfectly happy, in fact. I’m just not married and making great-grandbabies for her to spoil.”
“So you’re lying to her to protect her?”
“I don’t want to lie at all, but yes. If she thinks I’m heading toward ‘I do,’ then she’ll be able to enjoy her life again. She deserves that.”
“That’s … sweet.” And it was.
At least his unorthodox offer was rooted in something other than blatant self-interest. Still, what he was suggesting was crazy, but no more so than the fact that Elizabeth was actually considering it.
“Do you really think your grandmother would buy that you and I are …” She made a winding motion with her index finger, unable to speak the actual words. “I can’t believe I’m your usual type.”
She wasn’t angling for a compliment. She wasn’t expecting him to tell her that she was beautiful or even that he found her attractive. Expecting? No. But part of her must have been hoping, she realized, when her heart pinched painfully at his reply.
“You’re not my type in the least, which, in a way, makes you perfect. My grandmother knows the sort of women I prefer to date. Since I’ve never allowed something serious to begin with them, she assumes that’s because I’ve been dating women who are all wrong for me.”
“Have you been?” She immediately shook her head. “I’m sorry. That’s really none of my business.” Even if she was, at this very moment, considering becoming his bride-to-be, at least for appearances’ sake.
“Possibly. Probably.” He shrugged carelessly. “I’m not looking for a deep and committed relationship. That’s not what I’m after.”
Ah, one of those. Elizabeth had dated a couple such men just out of college, not that she’d known their preferences going in, of course. Nope. She’d found out the hard way and wound up with a dinged-up heart for her naiveté.
“Which reminds me,” Thomas was saying. “I never thought to ask if you were seeing someone.”
His complexion bleached a little as he awaited her reply. She wasn’t trying to exploit that with her hesitation. She just wanted to find a way to relay her single status without making herself sound like a loser.
“I date here and there,” she said at last. “But I’m not seeing anyone in particular.”
“Terrific.” He had the grace to grimace. “That came out wrong. What I mean is if you agreed to act as my fiancée, I wouldn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
She appreciated that, but … “Excuse me for saying so, Mr…. er … Thomas. The situation is already awkward. I barely know you. We met only today. And you’re asking me to pose as your fiancée in an attempt to fool your elderly grandmother into believing you’ve found your soul mate.”
He grimaced again. “It sounds even worse when you say it. In my defense, there’s nothing for me to gain here. I’m doing this for the right reasons, even if I seem to be going about it the wrong way. I love my grandmother, Elizabeth. She’s pretty much all the family I have. She basically raised me.”
So many layers to the man, Elizabeth thought. She wanted him to be what he first appeared when he suggested the arrangement: shallow and callous. Then it would be much easier to tell him no, the sizable donations he was promising be damned. She had standards. She had principles. She also apparently had a soft spot for men who had soft spots for their aging grandmothers.
“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about her,” she suggested, folding her hands in her lap.
“Nana Jo?”
Nana Jo. Cute. He scored another point in his favor. Elizabeth smiled her encouragement.
“She’s a pistol.” His expression turned fond. “She has an opinion on everything and offers it freely, whether you want to hear it or not.”
“My mother’s that way, too.” Elizabeth had little doubt her expression was one hundred and eighty degrees from fond. She shook off all thoughts of Delphine. “And right now Nana Jo’s opinion is that you should be married.”
“Actually, that’s been her opinion since I graduated from college.” He shrugged.
“But you’re not marriage-minded. Commitment’s not your thing. You prefer to keep your options open and continue to play the field.” She paraphrased his earlier comment.
His frown came as a surprise. She got the feeling he wasn’t happy with her assessment, though he didn’t try to correct her.
“About a year ago, my grandmother started telling me she didn’t have long for this life and that the only way she could leave this world peacefully was to know I was settled and happy.”
“That’s because she loves you.”
“And I love her. I’d do anything for her. As I said, she raised me.”
Elizabeth tamped down the questions begging to be asked. Chief among them: Where were his parents when he was growing up? Was he, like Mel, the product of a broken home? She pitied him if that were true. Skeet and Delphine might not believe in the institution of marriage, so their exchange of vows was unrecognized by the state as legally binding, but they were committed to one another in their own way. As counterculture and plain old wacky as they could be, at least Elizabeth had the luxury of an intact family. Or she had until her brother decided to drop out of high school and then drop out of sight.
Thomas was saying, “I told her I was seeing someone special mostly to give her something positive to occupy her thoughts. It worked a little too well and spiraled out of control. From that simple statement she extrapolated my impending nuptials.”
“And you didn’t do anything to stop her?”
“I didn’t have the heart. It made her so happy. She went from telling me which outfit she wanted to be buried in to what she planned to wear to my wedding. A pink organdy gown, by the way. She sent me a magazine clipping of it, as well as suggestions for my tuxedo. Black tails. Very formal and timeless, in her opinion.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a bemused smile that tugged at Elizabeth’s heart. Oh, he’d dug himself a deep hole all right.
“Why not tell her the truth now? They say honesty is the best policy for a reason.”
“I’ve thought about it. Believe me. But I’m afraid Nana Jo will just go back to fretting over her health and my future, and dropping brochures for headstones in the mail to me.”
“But you actually don’t plan to get married to me or anyone,” she pointed out. “Eventually, your grandmother is going to figure that out.”
“I know.” He rubbed his chin. “Which is why I was thinking that, after a reasonable length of time, I would tell her that things between you and I had ended.”
“My doing, of course.”
He smiled guiltily. “She’d be upset. But I think she also would be a little relieved that I almost made it to the altar.”
“Commitment phobia cured?”
With one eye closed, he squinted at her with the other. “You don’t pull any punches,”
he said wryly. “I had you pegged as practical, but not quite so blunt.”
“That’s my professional persona,” she reminded him. “I can hardly afford to insult someone who is about to cut my agency a check.”
“Present company excluded, of course.”
“Your check—”
“Checks. One from my business. One from me.”
“Whether one check or two, they are coming with a lot of strings,”