How can it be possible he doesn’t want this? The wife, the children, or the daily adventures. I stare at the ring on my hand and feel a pang. As if I’m the one losing all that because he doesn’t allow himself to love or be loved.
“Are you okay?” He kisses my cheek so close to my lips I almost jump out of my skin.
“You need to stop touching and kissing me,” I growl.
“Stop being weird. We’re supposed to be happily engaged,” Heath reminds me, showing me seven fingers. “This is the seventh time you’re about to punch me for getting too close to you.”
“I wouldn’t hit you. And sure, we’re going to pretend to be together. Just remember this isn’t real, and it feels strange to do it in front of your family.”
He lifts my chin with his index finger, his eyes staring at me, licking his lips. I can’t help but stare at his mouth. “This is how we’re going to play this. From this moment until your grandparents are boarding the plane back to Mexico, we’ll act like a couple madly in love that’s about to get married.”
“But we’re not. This feels strange, and my brain is having trouble processing it. What if I get confused?”
“Everything will clear out the moment they’re gone. We’ll return to normal, and I’ll be in New York soon.” He leans closer and gives me a peck on the lips. “You promised to trust me.”
“I did, but this might go too far.” My voice is breaking.
He winks at me. “We can take it as far as you want, love.”
The longing and ache in my chest increases. Why is it that I’m reacting to his voice and his body? I don’t know, but the fear? It’s like the juggling act of keeping everyone happy, and everything together might fail.
My heart is cracking open, and the memories of getting the news that all my family had died, leaving me alone, hit me right in the core of my soul.
Heath’s arms wrap around me, drawing me into his hard chest. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “I got you. I always do.”
But I have a bad feeling. That same feeling I had the day my parents and my sister died.
I cling to him, praying I’m just being pessimistic.
“Please, don’t cry. I swear it’ll be okay.”
This is the second time in less than twenty-four hours that I cry for an unfounded fear. I act like it doesn’t matter when people leave me, but I hate being alone. He might promise me everything will work out, but we know at the end of this very stupid and dangerous charade, he’s leaving me.
And if I fall in love with him, how will I survive?
Chapter Twenty
Atzi
After the weird nervous breakdown I had at the beach, I work harder to pretend I’m engaged to Heath. Hard isn’t the exact word. It’s easy to be myself but strange to deal with his mood. I doubt I’ll ever get over this. I might be a little in love with his alter ego, Not-grumpy-affectionate-Heathcliff.
We spend the rest of the day with his family. It’s not until the little ones have gone to bed that they suddenly let loose the crazy. Crazy might not be the proper term, but no one could deny they’re insane.
Who creates an entire game show with tequila as a prize and lemon drops as punishment just to tease their brother? At least, that’s what I think they’re doing—and I’m going along for the ride.
The first part is walking blindfolded through the house. I lose the coin toss and get to walk through a path Hux and Lysander created. Since I don’t fall, hit myself, or give up, I get a shot of tequila.
“This is not going to work,” Heath says, taking the blindfold off.
“It’s your turn.”
“What if I forfeit?”
“You get to drink two Bloody Marys—prepared by Cory,” Hux responds.
“If we lose, we drink lemon drops,” Heath protests. “Coriander thinks she’s preparing a salsa, not a drink. My stomach isn’t ready for her poison.”
“The name is Cordelia, and you’re being too dramatic.” Cory glares at him.
“Dramatic?” His voice booms throughout the house. “My choices are to let you perforate my stomach or let Miss I-can’t-remember-the-names-of-objects give me directions.”
“Again, you’re exaggerating,” Cory says.
Gatsby tsks. “Shouldn’t you be trusting your future wife?”
Heath squeezes his eyes for a second before bending and kissing my nose. “I must love you a lot to go through this.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. What does he mean? But I can’t think much since Caspian blows the horn, and I have to start giving Heath directions.
“Thirty seconds to get him through this,” Cas says, pretending he clicks an imaginary clock.
“Take four steps to your left,” I say, but obviously, I miscalculated his long steps, and before he takes the third one, he bumps his leg against the coffee table.
“Fuck, Atzi.”
I flinch. “Oops, sorry.”
“She’s going to get me killed,” Heath complains, and everyone laughs.
“Look, the doc can be funny. I guess he just needed to get laid.”
I’m so mortified that of course, I say the wrong thing. “Three steps straight, and then take a right.”
He does as I say, and before I can say careful, he hits the couch, takes a step back, and trips on Mia, Rys and Caspian’s little puppy. He falls close to Ralph, who begins to lick his face.
“Your mutt is going to kill me.” Heath tries to take off the blindfold while keeping Ralph away from his face.
“Ralph, sit,” Cas says. The big brown dog immediately obeys him.
Heath finally takes off his blindfold, pushes himself into a sitting position, and glares at me. “This is exactly why you’re not allowed to drive.”
I get close to him to check if he’s hurt and say, “I’m not a bad driver.”
“Someone hand me a drink. This is going to be a long game.” He sighs, pulling me to him, and once my ass hits his lap, he puts his hand on the back of my neck and kisses me hard. This time I don’t fight him. I melt into him.
“I don’t get why we’re doing this.” I glare at Fern.
Things are going from silly to ridiculous.
“It’s a trust game,” she says, as if that explains the nonsense.
Heath is standing in front of me, giving me his back. “I understand that, but can you comprehend what’s going to happen when he falls? I’m not strong enough to catch him, and he’s the only doctor in the house.”
She grins. “He trusts you enough that you will catch him.”
“I trust her judgment more than yours.” Heath stares at Fern. “If Atzi doesn’t think she can do it, I’m not participating.”
“Bloody Mary time!” Cory claps.
“No,” Heath says with a panicked voice. “This shouldn’t count as forfeiting. Neither one of us is willing to do something borderline stupid.”
“Judges?” Cory looks around.
“I’d say let them go with a shot of whiskey.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t bring enough vodka for the lemon drops,” Hux complains.