Page 54 of Things We Fake
“You didn’t. But I saw you.” His smile tilted. “And I remember wishing I was the one who made you laugh.”
The heat that flooded my cheeks wasn’t from the oven warming behind me. I ducked my head and grabbed the pizza, sliding it onto a baking sheet to hide my fluster. “That would’ve been a hell of a story if we’d started then. Guess we missed our Hallmark moment.”
“There’s still time,” he said, almost to himself.
I lowered my gaze to the groceries I was unpacking, my hands suddenly clumsy. “Okay, let’s start weaving our web of deception. If we met last winter, where did we have our first date?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Rockefeller Center. We went skating. Snow was falling, there were lights and music, and you wore red gloves.”
I gaped at him. “Wow, that’s really good.”
“I’ve seen more Hallmark movies than I care to admit. My mother’s a fanatic. She’ll ask all the same questions your mother will, and if I want to stay in her good graces, I’d better know my story.”
“Did we get hot chocolate or hot cider afterward?”
“Hot chocolate. With whipped cream and peppermint sprinkles.”
I bit down on a smile. “My mom’s going to swoon.”
“That’s the goal.”
I leaned against the counter. God, I would’ve loved every second of that date. The feel of his warm fingers entwined with my cold ones, the thought of us floating together over the ice, laughing and gazing into each other’s eyes, the taste of chocolate when his tongue touched mine in a kiss so hot it would have melted all the ice in New York…
I cleared my throat, forcing myself back to here and now. “I’ll need details. My parents haven’t seen the article yet or they would’ve called.” I glanced at my watch. “I have four hours before I have to make my weekly call home. Four hours to invent a four months relationship.”
“We’ll invent everything together,” he said reassuringly.
“Actually... I’ve got an idea. Well, it’s not mine per se, I’ve read it in a book—a fake engagement romance, as it happens. The couple did this thing where they filled out one of those get-to-know-you questionnaires to nail their story.”
Cam tilted his head, interested. “You want to interrogate me?”
“It’s only fair. Your brother just welcomed me to the family. At least let me ask about your favorite color.”
He held up his hands. “Ask away, Miss Morelli. Let’s see if we’re soulmates or just mutually delusional.”
The oven timer dinged, and I went to get the pizza, then I brought my laptop and searched for a questionnaire. A Google search onfake engagementgot me completely different results than what I was after. Since I wasn’t looking to improve my website’s engagement rate or social media presence, I triedget to know you couple questionnaireand in a few minutes we were up and running.
“Okay, here we go.” I nibbled at a slice of pizza, scrolling along through the questions. “Let’s start with some basic things. When’s your birthday?”
“August 17th. Yours?” He added some ketchup on his pizza slice, creating a perfect zigzag pattern.
I noted his answer down in a document I’d created on my desktop. “Mine is June 3rd.” I looked at him expectantly. “Don’t you need to write this down?”
He shook his head, then tapped his temple. “It all stays up here, believe me. Next question.”
“Favorite color? We already know that it’s blue for both of us.” I read lower. “These questions are spread into four categories: Favorites, Dreams and Future, Personal, and… uh, Sex and Romance.”
“That last one will be interesting.”
“Well, I don’t think anyone will be asking us that kind of questions.”
“I’m curious for my own reasons, not because of anyone else.”
Feeling my cheeks heat up, I buried my nose in the screen again. “Favorite movie?”
“The Shawshank Redemption.Yours?”
“I have a million. It depends on my mood. If I have to pick the one I’ve seen the most, I would sayDirty Dancing.”
