Page 61 of Tessa and Nash

Thomas studies me for another long moment, then shifts his weight back, arms folding across his chest.

“And what’s next,” he snarls, “in this very clever plan of yours?”

“Nash is taking me out tonight.”

His brows knit. “Out where?”

“Into town,” I say. “Main Street.”

His mouth tightens. “You’re rewarding him.”

“I’m reinforcing the lie,” I correct.

Nell’s eyes flick to mine, approval glinting there.

“The town already believes we’re engaged,” I continue. “But belief needs maintenance. They expect to see us together. Comfortable. Unremarkable in a way that convinces them this didn’t just happen overnight.”

“And you think a date accomplishes that?”

“Yes,” I reply. “It tells Buckhorn this is normal.”

He considers. “And Nash knows this is part of your… strategy?”

“He knows this is part of the arrangement,” I say carefully. “Not all of the reasons behind it.”

That earns me a sharp look.

“You’re keeping him in the dark.”

“I’m keeping him manageable.”

Silence stretches. Then Thomas exhales through his nose, almost a laugh.

“Dinner and smiles,” he says. “That’s your opening move.”

“Tonight,” I confirm. “Tomorrow, it’s church chatter and bakery questions and people deciding this is old news.”

“And while they stop watching,” he says slowly, “you start looking.”

“Exactly.”

He nods once, decisive. “Fine. Go.”

Nell reaches for her knitting again, the matter settled.

“But,” Thomas adds, eyes locking on mine, “you don’t forget why you’re there.”

“I won’t.”

“You don’t soften.”

I lift my chin. “I don’t soften.”

He studies me for another beat, then looks away. “Then go enjoy your date.”

I stand.

As I leave the room, the plan settles squarely on my shoulders.