Or just make everything between us impossible to ignore?
Because tomorrow, we’ll have to touch, work together, pretend we’re in love?—
When we can barely look at each other without the air catching fire between us.
CHAPITRE 20
KEIRA
The subtle art of family rom-com chaos
The tennis ball Lachlan just launched at me lands squarely between my feet, snapping me out of my spiral. I stare down at it for a second, completely blank. That neon yellow blur feels like the perfect symbol for my life right now—thrown straight at me without warning, and somehow I’m expected to know exactly what to do with it.
In a few minutes, Alistair and his mother will drive through the gates of McGregor Castle for our family barbecue. And I’ll have to step right back into the role of his adoring fiancée—a role that’s been getting harder and harder to play since the lodge. Not because I hate it… but because, and this is the truly terrifying part, I’m starting to enjoy it a little too much.
I pick up the ball and toss it back to Lachlan, but my mind’s elsewhere, and it flies wildly off course. He shoots me a murderous look before sprinting off after it.
“You could at least pretend to care about the game, Keira!” he calls over his shoulder.
Pretend.
The irony almost makes me laugh.
The castle gardens have never looked more perfect. Maggie went all out—Irish linen tablecloths, floral arrangements mixing Scottish thistle and English roses, and that determined expression she reserves for occasions where she plans to impress someone important.
Unfortunately, today’s “important guests” are my fake fiancé and his mother. And I’m about five seconds away from cracking under the pressure of this entire charade.
The truce I suggested to Alistair after our almost-kiss at the lodge suddenly feels like one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had.
“You’ve got that face again—the one you make when you’re overthinking,” Jane says, stepping out of the house with her arms full of colorful cushions. “What’s going on?”
I tear my gaze away from the table I’ve been supposed to set for the past ten minutes.
“Nothing. Everything’s fine.”
If only she knew how far from fine I am… I’ve been tossing and turning every night, replaying that moment—his breath on my lips, the way everything felt like it could change… right before reality crashed back in.
“You look gorgeous,” I add quickly, deflecting.
And she does. Jane is glowing in a floral summer dress, her long hair loose down her back, her cheeks flushed with happiness. When Callum walks up behind her and murmurs something in her ear, she laughs—easy, effortless, real.
My chest tightens.
That’s what I’ll never have with Alistair. That kind of natural closeness. That quiet, genuine affection that isn’t performed for anyone—it just exists.
“Where is your fiancé?” Callum asks, scanning the driveway. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?”
“He’s on his way,” I say, checking my watch. “He had something to finish at the distillery.”
In reality, I was the one who suggested he come later—to minimize our time together.
Brilliant plan. All it’s done is give me more time to panic.
Right on cue, gravel crunches under tires as Alistair’s Range Rover rolls up the drive.
My heart jumps.
He steps out—dark jeans, a cashmere sweater, effortlessly put together in a way that should honestly be illegal. My hormones immediately throw a celebration, which is deeply annoying. I am a competent professional, not a teenage girl with a crush on the rugby captain.
