“Then I’m glad you think I am.”
“You. Are. Pretend.” She tapped her finger against his chest with each word. “Remember?”
He placed his hand over hers, flattening her palm against his sternum and marveling at how her warm touch energized his pulse. “I don’t feel real? You’re sure about that?”
She jerked away, shaking her hand as if something clung to it. “You knew what I meant. We are pretend. You and me, not real. Fake news.”
“That’s right. How could I forget with you reminding me so often?”
“Well, you behave as if you keep forgetting.”
Because it was easy to forget that he wasn’t himself when Isabelle was around. Maybe he even wanted to forget. Too bad he couldn’t pick and choose what his mind retained. If he could, if he could be someone different, he’d point out that she once again stood beneath mistletoe. No doubt Sophie had hung it over the register counter because it didn’t seem something Isabelle would do.
“Be grateful I’m so immersed in the part I’m playing as your boyfriend.”
Wiping her hand on her jeans, she eyed him. “Yeah, well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no Emmy for this role, so it’s okay if you tone it down.”
She was right. He knew she was right. But for a while during his lesson, when they were laughing, when she was smiling at him, he’d not been thinking about anything except enjoying the moment.
“Yes, ma’am. Now, what I really want to know is how impressed were you with my sewing skills?”
Relief that he’d changed the subject brightened her face. “I’d rather not say.”
“I know I did good,” he teased. He’d had enough practice that he should do well.
“Then why ask? We both know you’ve been working with Sarah.”
Now was the perfect time to tell her that he already sewed, just had never quilted. But that opened a topic he’d rather not get into. He didn’t want Isabelle’s pity regarding why he’d had so much time to learn. That might undo him. So, instead, he said, “She’s extremely patient, but very busy.”
Relaxing more, Isabelle nodded. “She volunteers with the church all year, but especially at the holidays.”
“And Sophie does. How about you?”
“I volunteer.” Her chin lifted. “As a matter of fact, I’m volunteering this Saturday.”
“You’re closing the store on Shop Local Saturday?”
She laughed. “Don’t sound so incredulous. We do close from time to time. But, in this case, no, I’ll be working that morning until noon during our sale. After that, I’m helping with the kids’ activities at the Pine Hill On-the-Square Christmas Festival.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Then you should volunteer,” she challenged, giving him a pointed look.
“Okay.”
She frowned. “That was a rhetorical comment. Not a real invitation.”
“So, it was a fake invitation to your fake boyfriend? What’s with you and all these fake situations?” he teased.
“Odd how they all involve you.”
He chuckled. “Isn’t it, though? However, I was serious about volunteering. As long as I’m working with you, sign me up for wherever you think I’ll be most useful.”
“Remember you asked for this.”
Noting the gleam in her eyes, suspicion grew. “Did I just sign up for the pie-in-the-face booth or something?”
Zach didn’t know if Pine Hill had such a booth, but Isabelle’s laughter was worth ten pies in the face.
