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Mason points toward the main street. “Do you want to circle the council grounds first? The flowers are blooming, Gran. Your favorites.”
What a sweetheart. He knows what his grandmother’s favorite flowers are. Does he remember mine as well?
As if he could read my mind, he offers me a small smile. “Pity they don’t grow sunflowers. I’ll have to return to Elsie’s shop and buy you some.”
I nearly show my surprise, but I remain expressionless. Maybe I should perform at the Georgetown Theater. “The last sunflowers you bought are long dead,” I mumble and glare at him. Get the hint. How dare he make it seem like he’s a fantastic fiancé in front of Gran. Although that’s why we’re here, I’m not falling for it. Flowers die. Our relationship is long dead, too—no hope of bringing it back to life either.
Mason frowns, and guilt pricks me.
Nearly.
Okay, I broke the guy’s heart, but he broke mine too. Plus, it was mighty embarrassing to tell my family and friends when we split. I offered to return the engagement gifts, but of course, they all felt sorry for me and wouldn’t hear of it.
Gran is frowning as well. Okay, so maybe I’m not a good actress after all.
“Lauren, dear. Get Mason to buy you plants instead. Once you’re married, men forget to buy flowers. Grow your own and pick them when you want.” She taps her temple. “If you need more marriage tips, you know where to find me.”
I flash my teeth like I appreciate her words of wisdom. It makes sense, but Mason and I are not getting married. I avoid looking at him, although I sense his gaze.
Gran continues to lead the way, and I position myself on one side of her, Cinda panting below. Mason lags to her right. When we get to the council grounds, Gran parks her wheelchair beside the park bench. Behind us, rows of violas circle a hedge and dance in the gentle breeze. Two men stand chatting beside the entrance to the red-bricked building.
“Give me your phone, Mason,” Gran demands. “Let me take a picture of you two under the oak tree. It’s a glorious day, and I want you to put the photo on my iPad screen saver. You can air tooth it to me.”
I give Mason a questioning look.
He whispers, “AirDrop via Bluetooth.”
I nod. “Ah.”
Mason smiles at his grandmother. “Great idea, Gran. Lauren and I don’t have enough photos together.” He winks at me. “We need to take more, honey. Create memories.”
I resist an eye roll. “True.” Maybe I’ll accidentally stomp on his toe when Gran shoots. That’ll make a fun memory. He’s enjoying this fake engagement way too much. Calling me, “honey.” Come on. The nerve.
I wrap the leash around the wrought iron leg of the park bench. “Stay here, Cinda. Won’t be long, baby.”
Mason takes my hand and leads me to the tree. He swings me to face Gran and hugs me from behind, nestling his chin on my shoulder.
I grind my molars and hiss, “You’re taking this a little too far, don’t you think?”
“Come on, Lauren.” His whispery breath warms my neck. “It needs to be believable. We were always cuddling when we were together. Gran’s smart, and she’ll pick up clues if we don’t act like we’re in love.”
Act. Right. He’s not in love with me anymore. And I don’t want him to be either.
But his hold is snug and comforting. He gives the best cuddles. Heat floods my back, and I lose myself in the moment.
“Say cheese.” Gran croaks out, holding the cell at half-height.
“Cheese,” Mason calls, and I nearly laugh at the cheesiness of the situation.
“Got it.” Gran studies the screen.
He releases me, and my back becomes cold. I enjoyed the hug way too much.
Mason drops to one knee. “Hey, get this one, Gran.” He grabs my hand, and my eyes go wide.
He reaches into his pocket and calls to his grandmother. “The jeweler finished with the ring.”
Mason collects my hand and separates my ring finger, poised to slip on the diamond. Sunlight flickers off the angles. Holy rock, I forgot how big it was. He kept it. Why?
