Pretend It's Love (18 page)

He spotted her immediately. Through the throngs of fashionable people all dressed up and enjoying themselves, she shined like a lone star. Envy twinged in his gut as she charmed two men, making them laugh and shake their heads as she talked animatedly.

He couldn’t have been prouder than if he were right there by her side.

“Paolo?”

Hearing his name caught him off guard and he turned to see his mother, watching him closely.

“Ma, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for Libby,” she said, folding her arms across her chest in a way that spoke far louder than her actual words. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I had a change of heart.”

“I’m glad to see you have some sense left in your head.” Her dark eyes narrowed at him. “To think you were going to leave that poor girl all alone…”

“You know that we broke up.” He shook his head.

“Yes, and I know you told everyone that you weren’t really engaged, but I noticed that you haven’t bothered to return the ring to me.” The smug smile tugging at her lips made him laugh. “I know why.”

“Oh do you now?”

“You’re in love with her, and you’re not pretending this time.”

Busted. His mother really should have been a gossip reporter. “You’re guessing.”

“I’m not. I know you better than anyone,” she said. “You made me very sad, you know.”

Great, here comes the guilt trip.

“For breaking up with her?”

She shook her head as though he’d disappointed her. “For thinking you needed to lie to me. Do I want you to get married? Yes. Do I want you to have babies? Yes. But I love you no matter what.”

“Even if I stayed a bachelor my whole life?”

“Even then.” She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t get any ideas, though.”

“I won’t.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

“I love you, Paolo. I want you to be happy, and I will support you no matter what.” She sighed. “I want to support Libby, too, she’s a good girl. A
smart
girl.”

“You think she’s too good for me?” he teased.

His mother shook her head solemnly. “I think she’s perfect for you.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Me, too.”

“You’d better make it right.”

“I know.” His eyes returned to the goddess with the red hair. “I’ve taken stupid to a new level.”

“She deserves more than a fake engagement.” There was no malice in her voice. “You need to give her anything she asks for.”

“No, I’ll give her
everything
.” The edges of the ring bit into his palm where he held it tight.

He slipped behind the bar and did what he knew best. He assembled the cocktail he’d planned on the drive over, combining the orange juice, champagne, and Libby’s basil and orange vodka into a champagne flute. He cut the peel from an orange so that it curled, just the way he’d done the first night she came into the bar. Then he threaded the ring onto a cocktail stick and secured it, with the orange, over the edge of the glass.

She hadn’t yet noticed him as she flitted from guest to guest. She spoke to a group of young women who typed notes into their phones as she answered questions, and then they took photos with her and the drinks.

Then he saw her talking with Kirk. He waited for yelling, for tears, or for one of them storming off. But when she handed her father a drink, he caught a smile on her lips. Relief. Happiness.

Paul waited until she took a moment to breathe, then he left the cocktail on the bar and went to find her. The crowd was entertained, and Paul could tell from the arrival of the marshmallow rose martinis that they were onto the second to last course. He walked up behind her, taking a moment to admire the curl of her hair down her back, the copper tones shining against her pink dress.

“How does it feel to be the lady of the hour?”

She spun around, her eyes wide. The color in her cheeks bloomed, and she blinked. “It would feel better if I weren’t on my own.”

“That’s a far cry from the girl who said I wasn’t allowed to fall in love with her.” He reached for her hand but she stepped backward.

“Looks like my warning worked a little too well, I think.” She pursed her lips. They were the exact shade of pink as her dress.

“Can we talk?”

“The last time I asked you that you looked as though I wanted to give you a lobotomy.”

“Perhaps you should have,” he said drily. “My head needed fixing.”

A ghost of a smile passed over her lips. “I’m in the middle of the biggest night of my life.”

“Tiger, this is only the beginning. You’re never going to stop lighting up the room.”

She sipped her drink and looked away from him. “I told you not to call me Tiger.”

“And then you started liking it.”

She shook her head, but her cheeks flushed even deeper. “I heard you brought a plus one with you.”

“Or perhaps I was the plus one.”

Her features softened. “You were always invited. I wanted you to be here.”

“Five minutes, that’s all I want.” He took her hand, and this time she allowed him.

He led her behind the bar. Amongst the other cocktails she didn’t notice the one he’d prepared specially for her.

“Tick tock.” She tapped her wrist. “I’m working tonight.”

“How can I say this succinctly? I’ve been an asshole.”

A smile twitched at the corner of her lips. “So we’re in agreement then.”

“I lied to you. When you asked me if our relationship was fake, I lied.” He drew a deep breath.

“Why?” She fiddled with her necklace, her fingers running over the pendant swinging on the end of a fine chain. “You made me feel like I was nothing.”

“The thought of losing you was…excruciating.”

“But you
did
lose me—you pushed me away.” Her voice shook.

“I thought it would be easier to deal with the pain now than face it every day.” He clenched his jaw, the words sticking in his throat. “I knew you would leave eventually.”

“Why did you think that?”

He didn’t answer, but the look on her face told him she understood.

“I’m not her, Paul. She wanted something else, something fictional.” She sighed. “You can’t blame yourself for that and, more importantly, you can’t paint me with the same brush.”

“I know. You…” He looked her in the eye. “You inspire me, Libby. Every bit of my speech was about you, about how you made me feel. I was terrified.”

“I terrified you?” She raised a brow.

“You made me feel like I wanted to try again. Like it would be worth the risk to put myself out there.” He stepped closer to her. “I haven’t felt that in a long time.”

“Me, either,” she whispered. “But you can’t back down because you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared anymore.” He touched her cheek, and she closed her eyes.

“That’s not enough.”

“How about this? I love you, Libby Harris.” He forced her face to tilt up to his. “Look at me. I love you with all my heart. I could not be more proud of you tonight, of everything you’ve achieved. You make me want to be a better person, and I promise you I will work every day to be the man you deserve.”

“I want you to be the man
you
want to be, not what you think is best for me.”

“That’s just it, I was what I thought I wanted to be until you came along. I didn’t think there was anything else I had to give, but you changed that.”

Her eyes softened. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“If it means anything, I never wanted to fall in love with you,” she said with a cheeky smile. She touched her hand to his chest and pulled him closer.

“I’m not sure how that is supposed to make me feel better.”

“What I mean is, nothing could have stopped me falling in love with you. Not logic, not reason, not my stupid ideas about what love means.”

“Nor mine.”

She smiled. “I don’t want you to push me away or clam up when things get tough.
That’s
how we’re going to stay together.”

“I promise.” He nodded, a calm washing over him and soothing the pains of the past. “We should celebrate.”

“To love?” she asked.

He reached over to the bar and handed her the cocktail. “To marriage.”

The ring caught the light, and her mouth dropped open.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless before.” He held the ring carefully and unthreaded it from the cocktail stick. “Hold out your hand, I want to do this properly.”

Her hand shaking, she clasped the drink in her right hand and held out her left. He slipped the ring onto her finger, twirling it so that it shone in the light.

“Libby Harris, will you marry me?” He held her hand. “For real this time.”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes shining. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t ever stop calling me Tiger.”

“Anything for you.”

“I guess this means I can stop looking for a new place to live.” She smiled, pressing her cheek against his chest.

The crowd erupted in a raucous cheer as he brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her deeply, but in that moment it was like they were the only two people in all the world. The orange and champagne danced on his tongue as he tasted her, clasping her hand in his, relishing the feel of the ring on her finger.

“There’s half a bed with your name on it, Tiger, and I can’t wait to wake up beside you.”

“I’m all yours.” She grinned and wrapped her hands around his neck, dragging his lips back to hers. “Forever and ever.”

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Acknowledgments

I would not be where I am today without the love and support of my husband. He has backed me from day one and is always the first person to tell me I can do something, no matter how big and scary the task may be.

Thank you to Mum, Dad, Sami, and Albie for always checking in on me and for making me feel loved even if we are in different hemispheres.

To all the readers who’ve taken the time to leave a star rating, a review, or to send me a comment or email, thank you. Knowing that people enjoy my books brings me an immense amount of joy, and your support means the world to me. Happy reading!

About the Author

Originally from Melbourne,
Stefanie
now lives in Toronto with her wonderful husband. She loves to read, collect lipsticks, watch zombie movies, and drink coffee. By day (and night!) she writes contemporary romance with humor, heat, and heart, and tries not to spend too much time shopping online and watching baby animal videos on YouTube.

To find out more about her upcoming releases be sure to sign up for her newsletter:
http://eepurl.com/bbhIsD

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