I wanted to crawl under one of the deck tables and hide forever. But that wouldn’t help, so I focused on what I could control—like retrieving a terrified and trembling Whiskey from his backpack and clutching him to my chest. It took a lot of effort to stop him from squirming free, but at least he didn’t draw blood this time.
Everyone else was still staring.
“Well, this is awkward,” Harrison stated the obvious—only succeeding in making itmoreawkward. His grin was a little too gleeful. “You just said Cade hired you, right? I didn’t imagine that? My brother had to pay you to be here?”
Oh no.
“Don’t be silly, Harrison. This must be a misunderstanding.” Mrs. Westbrook caught my gaze, cocking a brow. “Youareengaged to my son, aren’t you?”
I flinched, struggling to catch my breath. “Um…”
My lips moved, but nothing came out. It was like my voice just…stopped. I couldn’t lie anymore.
“Ellie.” Cade broke through my increasingly panicked breaths, still close enough that I felt the warmth emanating from him. He kept his voice low and soothing—like he was speaking to a skittish kitten—and I cringed. “Let’s go back inside.”
“I can’t,” I choked out, my voice splintering as I retreated from him and his warmth. Whiskey’s claws held on tight at the sudden movement, and I really regretted not throwing more clothes on under Cade’s college T-shirt. The splotches on my arm screamed at me, and I scratched them. “I’m so sorry. I just ruined everythingandbroke the NDA. There’s no going back from this.”
The muscles along Cade’s jawline tightened.
“What NDA?” Mrs. Westbrook asked sharply, and I went still. Her eyes narrowed, flicking between me and Cade. It took all my willpower not to burst into tears. “What exactly is going on here, Caden? Do we need to involve the authorities?”
“No police,” he answered smoothly, snagging my attention while I choked on nothing. He crossed both arms and watched me for a long,longmoment, then sighed before nodding. “Go ahead. Tell them the truth.”
My lips parted. “What? Really?”
“If it’ll make you stop scratching and freaking out, then tell them.” He jerked his chin toward the crowd. “They already heard the worst.”
Guilt and nerves twisted together in my stomach. He was okay with this?
“I—I—” Flustered, I plucked a piece of confetti out of my hair before realizing Cade’s T-shirt was riding way too high on my thighs. But I braced myself and turned toward the group, unable to meet any of their gazes. When I glanced at Cade, he gave another nod, and my shoulders slumped. “Um, I’m not marrying Cade. And I’m not who you think I am. We’ve been lying to you all week.”
You could’ve heard a pin drop on the deck.
“Who are you, then?” Mrs. Westbrook asked.
I almost laughed. Where to begin?
“I’m a professional cuddler. That’s my real job. And, no, I don’t belong anywhere near this yacht or your son. I don’t have nice clothes or rich parents. I live in an attic above a struggling cat café, not a fancy apartment or penthouse. I’m not some gala-going, refined socialite. I’m just Ellie,” I confessed in a rush, the words tumbling out of me. The weight instantly lifted from my shoulders, flooding me with relief before I remembered something else. “And I didn’t dye my hair for charity. It’sblue because that’s my favorite color and I like the way it complements my eyes.”
I snapped my mouth shut to stop from rambling more, and everyone just stared at me.
Staring seemed to be the theme of the day.
I couldn’t bring myself to meet Cade’s gaze again. My flight response kicked in hard.
“Um, so, yeah. I should really go. I’m sorry,” I muttered, whipping my gaze around the deck to frantically search for any clue of which way to go. “How do I get to that little boat that’ll take me to shore?”
If I couldn’t find it, then screw not knowing how to swim—I was willing to take my chances with a life preserver.
A crewmember appeared like magic to show me the way, and I latched on to him and ignored the silence lingering behind me. My legs wobbled like a newborn foal’s across the deck, but at least Whiskey had calmed down enough to rest in my arms.
“Stop!” Mrs. Westbrook called with such effortless command that my feet froze to the deck. My heart thudded as I turned toward her shrewd gaze. She cocked a brow. “If you’re not engaged to my son, then shouldn’t you at least return the ring?”
I blinked back at her. Oh right.Thering. Of course I’d give it back.
Juggling Whiskey in my arms, I fumbled to slide the diamond engagement ring off my finger.
I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I hesitated instead of marching it back over to Cade. Maybe I just wanted to commit a mental picture of the ring to memory. Its sparkle really was something special.
