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“For pretend,” I say to stop her, even though a part of me, a wild, irrational, daring part of me wants to beg her to be my wife because there’s no one in the world I’d rather share this wild ride that’s my life. “Gentry told my patients that you and I are engaged to be married to convince them I’m sticking around.”
I can’t read her expression, confused, angry? She turns to look out at the view and swipes at her eyes. Then she spins back around and slaps my shoulder.
“Ow,” I say. “What the hell?”
“You couldn’t lead with the pretend part? That was an engagement speech, Noah. That wasn’t a ‘please be my pretend fiancée’ speech.”
“I was trying to make you feel better.” She has every right to be pissed, but I can’t help noticing how fierce and gorgeous she is in her anger. She’s fucking amazing in every mood and in every situation. “When I ask you to marry me for real, Daisy Weston, it’ll be a hell of a lot more romantic.”
“When?” Her eyes go wide.
“When.” I meet her gaze, steadfast and firm, trying to convey just how serious I am about her.
She looks away first. “Will we have to get pretend married and have a pretend wedding?”
I reach for her hand and she, amazingly, lets me have it. I thread our fingers together. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can say Gentry was incorrect, or we can just say nothing at all and let the gossip linger until it dissipates.”
“Whatever you say. It’s my fault you weren’t there yesterday.” She looks utterly crushed, and I hate for her to feel bad. “If it will help you to pretend to be engaged or married, I’ll do it. It’ll be fine.”
“Hopefully, it won’t come to that. But thank you. I’m pretty sure asking Gentry to tell everyone she was mistaken about us will put the final nail in the coffin of my clinic.”
She pulls her fingers free of mine and presses our palms together, shaking my hand. “Deal.”
I don’t like her distant expression. “This doesn’t affect us, right? We’re still dating for real.”
“I don’t know,” she says slowly. “Maybe it’d best if we don’t confuse things.”
“I still want to be your boyfriend, Daisy. I…” I love you. So fucking much. “I want to be with you.”
She smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness. “Why don’t we just see how things go, okay? So much is up in the air right now, with your job and mine. Maybe some space would be good. For both of us.”
I want to argue, but she’s not wrong. This isn’t the right way to start a relationship, with one lie after another. “Okay. Space. I can do that.”
She doesn’t speak again until we’re walking up the front steps into her house. “Brace yourself,” she says.
“What?”
The front door flies open and Clover bursts out and into Daisy’s arms. “Is it true? Are you and Noah engaged?”
Oh, shit. I didn’t even think about this part of it. Daisy closes her eyes for a brief moment before she pastes on the fakest smile I’ve ever seen from her and steps out of the hug. “It’s true.”
Clover, who just a month ago barely spoke to Daisy, shrieks and claps. “Where’s the ring?”
“Congratulations, man,” Asher says from the doorway. He shakes my hand and hugs Daisy.
Clover is twisting and turning, trying to get a look at Daisy’s hands.
“There’s no ring,” I say. “The proposal was a spur-of-the-moment thing and… I’ve ordered the ring, but it isn’t here yet.”
“Do you have a picture?” Clover asks.
“Not until I see it,” Daisy says. “Shouldn’t you two be at work? Who’s running the gym?”
“We have staff,” Clover says. “We decided to grab lunch here as soon as we heard about the engagement, but you weren’t at home.”
“We should probably get going, babe.” Asher wraps an arm around Clover. “You’ve got a class to teach in half an hour.”
“Right,” Clover says. “Show her the ring, Noah, so I can see it.”
