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“No family.” It’s been years and it still stings having to admit that I’m alone in every sense of the word. I realize I’ve put a damper on the jovial nature of the conversation and attempt to rectify it. “I don’t…” I clear my throat once more and shake my head. “I don’t have any plans for the holidays.”
Caleb livens up, “So, you’ll be there?”
For some reason I find myself wanting to accept his invitation. But I look at Theo, trying to get a read on the situation. He asked me to be his fake girlfriend to meet his brother. He didn’t mention anything about being his date to his brother’s wedding. It sounds like something out of a romance novel and as much as I love reading the genre and watching romantic comedies, I know that cannot possibly be real life.
“We will talk about her schedule,” Theo starts to say but Caleb interrupts him.
“Nonsense!” Caleb looks up from his phone where he has been tapping keys like a maniac. “I’ve already told Mama and Sarah that I’ve met you and they are insisting on you being at the wedding.” A beep sounds and Caleb glances down at his watch. “Blast! I hate to do this, but I promised Sarah I would get fitted for my suit this afternoon. Glad we bumped into each other, Theo.” He stands up and smiles down at me. “And I’m really glad to have finally met you, Cate.”
Chapter Two
Theo makes himself comfortable once Caleb leaves. He shimmies out of his wool jacket and hangs it neatly over the seat Caleb had used. Theo’s green eyes meet mine and he flashes me another one of his wickedly perfect grins.
I don’t want to break eye contact first. I don’t want him to think he intimidates me or makes me feel uncomfortable. But the mischief in his eyes surges through my entire body and for the second time in a matter of fifteen minutes, I shoo those unwanted flutters away. I am still a woman and seeing a devilishly handsome man smile at me the way he does, has an effect on me.
“He seems…” I strike up the conversation, “nice.”
Theo nods. “Caleb means well, even if he does come off abrasive.”
“So, what happens now?”
“First,” he clears his throat and I watch his Adam’s apple bounce as he motions for the waitress. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee? It is the least I can do after that sixth level of hell you just went through.”
“What can I get you two?” The waitress clicks the top of her pen and readies herself to jot down our orders.
Theo extends his hand toward me, allowing me to order first. “I’ll have a white chocolate mocha, extra whipped cream.”
“And I’ll have a coffee. Black.”
“Coming right up.” She walks away after scribbling down our order.
I turn my gaze to the man in front of me when I notice he’s grimacing. “What? What’s wrong?”
“White chocolate mocha?” He asks with an air of disgust. His nose is crinkled like he smells something rotten.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“The chocolate part.”
“You don’t like chocolate?” I’ve never heard something so absurd in my twenty-eight years of living. “Seriously?”
“I’d rather jump in the Pacific in this blistering cold than consume any form of chocolate.”
“You’re a monster.”
“I’ma monster?”
“What else do you hate?” I tick off on my fingers. “Puppies? Tacos? Christmas?”
He flashes that crooked grin of perfect teeth sending shockwaves up my spine as he ticks off his fingers the same way I did. “I love puppies. I eat tacos at least three times a week. And Christmas is alright,” he shrugs, “I prefer the 4thof July.”
“Well at least I know you aren’t a complete psychopath.” I shift in my seat, my bottom starting to fall asleep from having been in the same seated position for too long. “Why do you prefer the 4thof July?”
“Better food. Better weather. I like sitting poolside with a cold beer.” Theo scratches his stubble again. His jaw is chiseled like a Greek god, and I peel my eyes away before he notices me staring. “Besides, Christmas here is snowy, cold, and is a time dedicated to forced interaction with one’s family.” He furrows his brow, looking disgusted but seems to remember what I told his brother earlier about me not having any family and his gaze softens, as if he’s embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”
I wave my hand in protest. “It’s ok. I don’t really care for Christmas myself.”
The waitress returns with our coffee and sets the ornate mugs down in front of us, breaking the awkward moment between us. After we sip our drinks, Theo’s eyes brighten.
