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“I was hoping to outsmart him. I failed miserably.”
“Men like him are despicable. His profession is disgusting.”
“I agree. But it doesn’t mean you have to suffer for it. Charlotte and Drake will be disappointed, but they always knew this was a risk.” I leaned my head against the cool window. “So much planning down the drain,” I bemoaned.
Patrick gripped his steering wheel, deep in thought. “What if ...” He gripped tighter. “What if we kept up the ruse?”
My head popped up. “Why would you want to do that?”
He thought for a moment. “I hate seeing guys like Dave win.”
Oh. That was disappointing. I was hoping it would be more along the lines of “I should have never let you get on that plane, and I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“I would love to put him in his place, but a fake engagement would be ... complicated.”
“Hmm.” He scrubbed a hand over his stubble.
I wanted to be that hand.
“I suppose it would be,” he agreed with me.
“I mean, you don’t even like me,” I said lightheartedly, but meant it.
His brows knit together so tightly they formed a V. “Don’t assume you know anything about my feelings.”
His words cut me like a serrated blade, deep and jagged. “You’re right,” my voice hitched. “Again, I’m sorry.” I opened the door, ready to flee.
“Isabelle.” He caught my arm before I could exit. “Please, don’t go.”
“Why do you want me to stay?” He clearly hated me. Besides, I was splattered with chocolate milk, and I should probably change and book my ticket to Antarctica.
He closed his eyes. “Because ...”
I waited on bated breath for him to make a declaration of his undying devotion or something like that. I would even just take “I’m so happy to see you again.” That was wishful thinking.
“Because ... your sister and Drake deserve the dignity of a private wedding.”
I shut the door, only because I was freezing. Though his words didn’t make the car much warmer. “What about our dignity? Your children’s?” The last thing I needed was to be fake engaged and then have everyone think it was a real breakup.
“Rory and Bridgette will probably find this hilarious. And honestly, they could use a little fun in their lives.” He sounded like he could too, but I didn’t mention it, for fear of him biting off my head for even intimating that I knew anything about his feelings. Where was the man who held me in the store? I wanted that Patrick back.
“You think this would be fun?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“That makes two of us,” I admitted. “I should go. I promised George I would pick up a few things for him at the store.”
Patrick’s brow popped. “How odd. George asked me to pick up a few things for him here too.”
I leaned my head back and murmured, “Of course he did.”
“What does that mean?” Patrick asked.
“It means George is a troublemaker.”
“I see.” The corners of Patrick’s lips ticked up.
His mood swings were confusing me.
