“Waiting for you.” He smirks, and his green eyes dance.
“Why?”
“Because it seemed like a nice boyfriend thing to do. Come on.”
He hooks his arm over my shoulder, and I tense. I have to fight the physical urge not to fling him away from me.
“I already reserved us a table.” As we step inside, Collin motions toward the far corner of the café. “Go, defrost. I’ll order us drinks. How do you take your coffee?”
“Black.”
“Really?”
“Yep. No time for extras, and it’s cheaper that way.” I work to keep my face neutral. I didn’t mean to add that last little tidbit. No use letting Collin know how tight money is for me right now.The last thing I want is his pity. And if I told him how I really like my coffee, I’m sure he’d make fun of me for it.
“Fair enough. That’s easy to remember, which is helpful.”
“How about you?” I ask, grateful that he seems to have glossed over my accidental revelation.
“Also black. Look at us. The picture of compatibility.”
“Whatever you say,” I grumble.
We split, and Collin heads to the register, where I see Inez, the owner of the Getaway Café. I smile and wave to her before turning my back and heading for the table Collin procured for us.
I’m midway through slipping off my scarf when I pull up short at the sight of a plain white envelope with my name on it.
I blink and shake my head, willing my rapidly escalating pulse to cool it, and then I go over the facts.
This envelope isnotfrom Nelson. For starters, he’s in Pensacola and couldn’t have dropped this off here with no postage or address. And if that wasn’t proof enough, this missive is handwritten, not typed.
I drop into the seat and rip open the envelope.
It’s a thank-you card. A handmade thank-you card.
The wordthanksis scrawled on the front in bold, black sharpie. I flip open the paper, and written in pen on the inside is a brief message.
Magnolia,
Thanks doesn’t seem like enough, but I’ll say it all the same. I appreciate this more than you know.
C
I sit back in my chair, dumbfounded. Collin wrote me—nix that,mademe—a thank-you card to tell me he appreciates me being his fake girlfriend?
I realize my jaw is unhinged, and I snap it closed, rearranging my facial features in an effort to look less taken aback. I don’t know if I should make fun of Collin for the formality of it or start crying because it’s actually super thoughtful, and I can’tremember the last time I got a note that didn’t feel like a razor blade to the heart. I tuck it into my purse, and before I can think any more about it, Collin appears and sets a steaming mug of black coffee down in front of me.
“For you, m’lady.”
I reach for it and grip it between my hands, willing it to warm my still frozen fingers. I’m not acknowledging his note because I don’t know what to say about it. I can’t explain how much it means to me without bringing up Nelson, and that’s a hard no. So, instead I’m going to focus on setting some boundaries so I can survive this year of fake dating.
Collin sits, and I pin him with a stern look. “First of all, you’re going to have to stop with the accent thing. It’s annoying as heck.”
If it’s possible, Collin grins even wider. “Why do you think I do it?”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from saying anything else. It’s obvious this man’s quest is to get a rise out of me, and I will not take the bait.
“Anyway. Let’s get down to business.”
