What?
Who?
When were you going to tell me about it?
Is she coming to the wedding?
“Oh my God.” Grace’s eyes go wide, although she can’t contain the wide grin on her face. “What did you tell her?”
Sitting up straighter on her stool, she leans over to look as another few text messages come in.
I watch her reaction as she scrolls through them delicately, just using her pointer finger and leaving the phone sitting on the bar. I’m taken aback when the smile falls from her face and she slowly sits back on her stool.
Why didn’t you tell me?
I don’t believe you…
Bring the girl to the wedding, or else!
“So you have a girlfriend?” she asks me softly. I’m not sure if I’m imagining the hurt there, or if it’s genuine.
I grab the phone and read the messages again as I answer. “No, no girlfriend.”
“So you lied?” The happiness comes right back as she bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes on me.
I let a small chuckle slip out. “Yeah. But now I’m screwed.”
“Just say she can’t come.” Grace shrugs, grabbing a fry and chewing at the end. She has no idea what how adamant my family will be to meet this new girlfriend. I can’t for the life of me think what I was doing. Maybe I’m just sleep deprived.
After grabbing Frank a beer and asking a few guests if they need anything, I head back to Grace with the inevitable truth: “They’re going to want proof.”
“What?” she says like they’re crazy.
“You didn’t grow up in a small town, did you?” I ask her. She has no idea what it’s like. When everyone knows everything, and word gets around faster than a forest fire in a drought.
She shakes her head, finishing off the fry and reaching for one of the last remaining fried pieces of deliciousness.
“I grew up in Ellijay. My family is nosy, but so is the whole town. Everybody knows everybody’s business.” I pause, considering. “I shouldn’t have told them I’m seeing someone.”
Grace sucks on the tips of her two fingers quickly, most likely for that last bit of salt, and my eyes are drawn to her mouth. She doesn’t mean it to be sexual as she licks the salt clean, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t turn me on.
“Take a picture of us,” she offers with a nonchalant shoulder lift. “I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend for the picture and there’s your proof.”
She winks at me and grabs her beer, although that beautiful blush comes back with a vengeance.
It feels like a dare, and I’m happy to take it. I reach for the phone and scoot closer to her. Smiling, I snap a couple of photos.
As I sit back down on my seat I take a look at them; one is just right. She’s drinking her beer, although she’s smiling still. She looks sweet, happy even. I think Ma would like her.
“That’ll get them off your back,” Grace says. There’s that same dare hidden in her voice, but the effect is dimmed as she looks away and bites down on her bottom lip. My shy sweetheart.
As I hit send, Grace finishes off her beer. I don’t hesitate to get her another. I know she wants it.
This time when our fingers touch, I don’t let the bottle go. She tugs a bit harder, then realizes I’m messing with her. The smile lights up her face and the texts light up my phone on the bar.
Grace grabs it before I can, letting go of the beer.
Her mouth forms a beautiful “O” as she gapes at the screen. I can only imagine her lips wrapped around my cock like that. I shamefully adjust my hardening dick in my jeans as she points to the phone, completely unaware. Damn I want this chick. How have I not wanted her this bad before tonight?
“They really want me to come to the wedding,” she teases and her sweet laugh is music to my ears.
“It’s two weeks away,” I say and then take a sip of her beer. I shouldn’t, but it’s only one sip. And it’s hers. “You really want to play my girlfriend for two weeks and go to the wedding with me?”
I ask the question playfully, but there’s a serious hint hidden in there. A dare.
“What do I get?” she asks.
“What do you want?” My dick twitches in my pants at the thought of her answering with that desire I see in her eyes.
“Let me think about what I want,” she answers in a soft voice.
She grabs the second to last fry and watches as I slowly reach the last one.
“What is it that you get again? You’re willing to do something for just a date?” she asks, forcing my eyes to reach hers.
“Nope. It’s more than just a date. It’s my family off my back.”
I nod to the phone and bite the fry as I wait for her response. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I’ll give it to you.
“Okay then... you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“What’s my end of the bargain?” I ask her with a smirk on my face.
She bites down on her bottom lip and I know what she wants is right there, on the tip of her tongue, but she won’t say it. I know what she wants. She wants to go slumming, get all tangled up in the sheets with the man she thinks I am. All she has to do is ask. Hell, she can have me every night for these two weeks and then some.
“I’ll figure something out,” she says, shifting on her barstool.
I’m playing with fire, knowing damn well this girl wants to settle down. She doesn’t want to wind up with me, I know that much. But I’ll play along.
This is all for fun. I just need to remember that. It’s just a drunken deal; it probably won’t even happen.
Grace
I want you to knock me up.
I could feel the words on the tip of my tongue when I was making a deal with Charlie, even though I know that’s not realistic and sounds absolutely insane.
It’s not an even trade.
A baby isn’t a decision to make in a bar with a kind-of-friend.
I have officially lost my mind.
I’ll figure out how I’m going to deal with my… issues. But for now, I’m focusing on the positive. I have a date… sort of. It’s just pretend but… yeah, I’m going to treat it like a date because dammit I want a nice date and a refresher on exactly how to date.
As I drive home from Mac's, I can’t help the smile that lights up my face. It’s silly, I know. The very idea of Charlie going on a date with me is laughable. I get that.
But I still let my imagination run wild as I drive back into the city.
Fantasies about Charlie picking me up for the wedding run through my head and I just laugh it off. I’d wear a pretty pale blue dress, lacy but not scandalous, and dark blue heels. A giddy squeal leaves me when I imagine opening the front door to my apartment, and he takes a moment to look at me. Really look at me, and drink me in.
Standing there in his wedding tux, I assume… since he’s probably a groomsman, he looks fucking dashing. In the fantasy, I bite my lip and look downward, trying not to show him all the emotions just beneath the surface.
He whistles, long and low. My eyes drift up, catching his.
“Damn, you are the kind of girl I’d like to date,” he says. “As a matter of fact, I think you’d look even better if you were carrying my child…”