AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m named for my grandmother.”
He slowly nods. “Also seems like something I should know.”
“And what were you named for?”
Anderson smiles. “Where my parents met. Anderson, Indiana.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. Why were they there?”
“They were both just driving through—him for business, her with her parents. They met at the only diner in town and hit it off.”
“Guess you never know where life will take you.”
“That’s for damned sure.”
The trip is a quick ride to Beacon Hill, the most classic and expensive neighborhood of Boston. I’m a little surprised—I would have thought his parents would live outside the city. Brookline, maybe. The Park Street townhouse we pull up to is gorgeous, though. Rich red brick and trees lining the road.
I slip the ring on, and despite the wrong birthstone, it fits perfectly. “Honestly, I think the birthdate thing is kind of perfect. Tells the story of two people too excited about new love to get everything right.”
“That’s some good spin.”
“Ready for this?”
“If you are.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Let’s do it.”
He jumps out of the car and tosses the keys to the valet on his way around the car in a move so practiced I would think he does it every day. He opens my door, and when I stand up, he says, “They’ll already be watching from the window.”
So, I put my hands around his neck and smile. “Then you should keep me warm.”
He bends down for a sweet peck on the lips, and I’m surprised. “Don’t look so shocked. We’re getting married, remember?”
I giggle and feel the heat in my cheeks again. “This is going to be weird before it’s over, isn’t it?”
“No, of course not. Just two former enemies pretending to be engaged in order to pull the wool over the eyes of a man too controlling for everyone’s own good. Not weird at all.”
I roll my eyes, and he takes my hand to lead me into the building. “It’s nice to know you’re nervous, too.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You ramble and you get facetious when you’re nervous.”
“Good that my fiancée knows me so well.”
Which we do. As we walk through the halls, his hand warms my lower back, and I cannot explain why, but it doesn’t bug me when he does it. The few times any other man has done it, I found it grating. But right now, I don’t mind a little friendly guidance. The elevator takes us to the penthouse.
When we get to the door, he pauses. “Here we go.”
“Yep.”
But he doesn’t move.
“Anderson?”
“Kiss for luck?”
I laugh. “Just knock, you big baby?—"
