Chapter 11

With tentative steps, Cara entered the apartment on Nob Hill where she and Brody would stay until the media and fan frenzy was under control. The gas fireplace and designer décor gave the space a welcoming feel, but she wanted to go home. She preferred to read about stuff like this in her books, not live it. But her life seemed complete fiction now with her fake fiancé and a make-believe pregnancy.

Of course, Caitlin still hadn’t replied to the text. Nor had their parents contacted Cara. Which meant her family situation hadn’t changed the way she hoped it would. She would have to be patient, even if doing so was killing her.

Rizzo flicked on the lights before opening the blinds.

Jackson set the box of food from the Bay View House on the dining room table. “You’ll be eating well.”

“Good, because I’m hungry,” Brody said.

Cara had no appetite. Her stomach hurt from the stress of their charade and Loki being alone at the condo. She wanted Caitlin to make good on her promise. Cara also wanted her cat safe and sound with her. “I should probably mention that Loki gets carsick.”

“We’ll skip Lombard Street then.” Rizzo’s lighthearted tone and casual pose against the wall didn’t hide the way his sharp gaze watched the door. “Those curves are killer.”

She appreciated his sense of humor. After she’d thrown up at the Bay View House, he’d handed her a wet rag and told her getting sick without drinking all night wasn’t fair. She’d agreed with him even though more than two drinks put her to sleep.

Not that she’d been thinking that then. No, she’d been struggling not to fall to the floor and curl into a ball. But Rizzo, someone she’d only met last night, hadn’t let her collapse. He’d held her up and led her back to the dress salon.

Jackson handed Cara a spiral notebook. “Write down anything you’ll need for the next few days. The basic stuff we know to pack.”

“You make a habit of packing for people?” she asked.

Jackson was handsome with rugged good looks and an athletic physique, but his eyes were dark, serious, and…haunted. “We do whatever the job requires.”

Probably better not to ask. She wrote several items, including Loki’s scratching post, to the list. That might save the expensive furniture from his claws. After pulling her keys from her purse, she handed them and the list to Jackson. “I think that’s everything.”

He scanned her list. “Not a problem. I’ll call if we can’t find something.”

“All my stuff is on top of my bag in the living room,” Brody said.

Jackson and Rizzo raised their eyebrows.

Uh-oh. She forced a smile. “I toss and turn. Can’t get comfortable. Am nauseous almost twenty-four hours a day. Poor Brody can’t get any sleep.”

“That’s right. She keeps me up all night.” Brody picked up right where she left off. “We’re hoping things improve after the first trimester. Sleeping on the couch and celibacy suck.”

Rizzo and Jackson laughed. Cara managed to keep smiling and not cringe.

“Then it’s a good thing there are two bedrooms here. This place belongs to a friend,” Jackson said. “Make yourselves at home. Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. Lex and Kai are stationed in the apartment across the hall.”

That got her attention. “Apartments next to each other?”

“You can never have too many friends.” Smiling, Jackson headed to the front door. “Be back shortly.”

“Don’t worry about your cat,” Rizzo said, as if knowing she was concerned about Loki. “He’ll be fine.”

With that, he followed Jackson out of the apartment. The door closed behind them, and the lock clicked into place.

Cara rubbed her arms, trying to warm up. She’d been chilled all morning even though it wasn’t that cold out. “How do you get used to this? We’re prisoners.”

“It’s for our own safety.” He touched her shoulder.

The warmth of his hand comforted her. Common sense told her to step away, but she didn’t listen. Instead, she leaned closer.

“And Loki’s, once he arrives,” Brody continued. “Funny, but I love that silly black cat. And I…”

Her breath caught. Was he going to say he loved her, too? Suddenly, this day didn’t seem like her worst ever. He’d said he loved Caitlin on many occasions. But he’d never said that about—

“I owe you,” he finished.

Cara’s shoulders drooped. Her disappointment wasn’t a twinge. It was more like an ache, a pain deep within that squeezed her heart.

So not what she wanted to hear, especially when he felt he’d owed Caitlin for his career, but Cara half-laughed at herself for thinking he would say anything else, feel more than friendship or camaraderie for her. She knew better.

He motioned to the table. “You should eat.”

“No, thanks.” The thought of food made her stomach gurgle. “The stress got to me earlier. My tummy still hasn’t settled.”

“I don’t know why Caitlin said you were pregnant. I asked my publicist to check the Trouble in Tulle script. No characters are pregnant.”

“I appreciate you looking into it, but Caitlin saying I’m pregnant has nothing to do with her movie.”

His forehead creased. “Then why?”

“Ego.” Caitlin wasn’t that difficult to figure out when Cara stepped back and studied this analytically. “My sister didn’t want others to think you dumped her. The pregnancy allows her to save face because I trapped you into doing the right thing by marrying me. You were forced to leave her. So under this new scenario of hers, I not only stole my twin’s boyfriend, but I also slept with him and got pregnant on purpose.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “That’s…”

“The world revolves around Caitlin. Everyone else plays a supporting role, including me.”

“I’ve felt that way around your sister. Her world is Caitlin-centric. But I never thought she’d go this far.”

“I don’t believe it.” And Cara couldn’t. She studied Brody to make sure it was him standing next to her.

Confusion clouded his gaze. “What?”

“You’re not defending Caitlin. You’re finally willing to admit she’s not perfect.”

“No one is perfect, especially not Caitlin. The position your sister has put you in is horrible. I want to believe she has a logical explanation for her actions, because she’s been a friend forever, but no matter how I look at this, I can’t see any valid reason for what she’s said and done.”

Caitlin was his Achilles’ heel and had been for years, so what he said stunned Cara. But it also gave her courage to speak out. “I’m relieved she’s having you do the honorable thing after cheating, but I’m afraid Caitlin’s lies will ruin me. Maybe not forever, but near term.”

“It’ll blow over.”

He sounded so certain when Cara’s entire life was being held up by a single rusty, bent nail—one that was fatigued and about to break in two.

“In Hollywood, unplanned pregnancies are no big deal, but that’s not my world.” She tried to keep her voice steady. Difficult to do when her emotions were spinning out of control. “I’m trying to find a job. What am I supposed to do or say now that people think I’m pregnant? I have an interview tomorrow. Pretending to be getting married is one thing, but if they think I’m pregnant and will need maternity leave, that could be a fatal strike against me. I need to find a full-time job with benefits. I haven’t had medical insurance for months.”

“You have the ring, and you have me.” He didn’t hesitate speaking. “I’ll help you out until you find the job you want.”

She shook her head. “The ring is enough. I don’t want to take more of your money.”

“Consider it a loan. You can pay me when you get a job.”

“If I can find one. The two things I had going for me were my work ethic and reputation. Now…”

“If you’re this upset, why did you stop me from contacting Caitlin in the car?” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her.”

“I texted her earlier, but it’s too late to have her backtrack now.” The one thing Caitlin hadn’t stripped away from Cara was her logical thought process. “Everyone at the Bay View House assumed I suffered a bout of morning sickness. If I’m suddenly not pregnant, people will ask questions. Ones that might be difficult to answer and lead to more lies.”

“But you’re not pregnant.”

“And we’re not engaged.” Her tone was harsher than she intended. “The less we say until this is over, the better.”

Even if not talking about it to her parents affected her relationship with them.

Her chest tightened. Except that bridge had probably been burned.

Cara could no longer laugh off feeling like an outsider in her family or at how messed up the dynamics had become. Her sister had been the one to provide drama, but she’d also supplied her mom and dad a luxurious lifestyle they’d once dreamed about. Cara was happy they no longer struggled and worried over money. She would never want them to return to living paycheck to paycheck. But knowing they’d taken Caitlin’s side over the supposed breakup without even talking to Cara showed her how far she’d been pushed out. When this ruse was over, she feared nothing would be left to salvage of her relationship with her parents. That their need for financial security had caused them to turn their backs on her.

For Caitlin.

Whose needs and desires didn’t trump Cara’s.

But no one else in their family seemed to understand that.

Or care.

“I hate doing nothing to stop this.” Brody paced between the living area and kitchen. “The gossip is going to get worse.”

“Probably already has.” Not wanting to think about her family any longer, Cara touched her stomach—not exactly bikini-ready. No doubt, memes about her baby bump were being posted on social media. Though maybe the threats would go away now that a baby, albeit a phantom one, was involved. “A good thing we’ve got the A-Team watching over us. We’ll be fine.”

She sounded more confident than she felt, but she wanted to appear strong and in control, even if her insides twisted and trembled. Brody seemed worried about her and was acting…off. Not nervous, different.

“Only one is former Delta so I wouldn’t let them hear you call them the A-Team,” Brody joked. “But I get your point. If you think you can make it through this without—”

“Throwing up again?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “Though your timing couldn’t have been better.”

“Ha-ha.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t funny at the time.”

Anxiety had made her sick. Was that overwhelming, out-of-control, think-you’re-going-to-die feeling how Caitlin felt? “No.”

“Food is the last thing you want, but I’m—”

“Hungry.” Cara opened the cardboard box to find a red-checkered tablecloth. Not that tasting food for a fake wedding would qualify as a normal occurrence, but it was better than doing nothing. “You’ll have plenty to eat with what they packed us.”

Maybe instead of focusing on their upcoming fake wedding, she could think of this as practice for when she planned her real one. That might not happen any time soon, but this way, she’d be ready when the right guy came into her life.

Brody spread the tablecloth over the carpet. “Best part about an indoor picnic is no bugs.”

Their long-ago picnics had consisted of eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while sitting on old logs or the grass with the scent of sunscreen and the sound of laughter in the hot summer air. “You had no problem squishing bugs for Caitlin and me.”

“Doesn’t mean I liked doing it.”

Cara’s chest tightened. Affection for this man—her friend, but also so much more—overflowed.

She removed two menus printed on brown lunch sacks. Each dish listed had a small box next to it. Each bag contained a pen. “This must be what we’ll be tasting. We can check off what we like. They’ll probably use our selections to come up with an official menu.”

“What if we like everything?” he asked.

“We have to narrow down the list.” She handed him a bag. “You don’t want to pay that much for food no one will be eating.”

“I’ve got enough money to cover it.”

The way Brody’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes made her want to skip the reception and plan a honeymoon. She stared at the box of food. “You won’t if you waste it.”

He came up behind her. “Is that the voice you use when you shush people in the library?”

“Well, people in the rare books collection rarely need to be shushed, but yes, that was my librarian voice.”

“Sexy,” he teased. “I love a woman who takes charge. Many men have a librarian fantasy to see what’s underneath the smart-girl glasses and conservative clothes.”

Don’t go there. But oh, how a part of her wanted to.

Still, she couldn’t forget. Caitlin was the only reason he was here.

No matter what they’d done since he arrived, Brody hadn’t seen her in over a year. They were friends. Just friends. Thinking otherwise would open her up to a world of hurt.

Cara focused on the menu. “This isn’t what I expected they’d serve. I thought there would be deli sandwiches and potato chips, not a crostini station.”

“A picnic theme can be interpreted in different ways.”

“But chicken and seafood wraps, meat pies, Cornish game hens, stuffed avocados, corn on the cob, gourmet hot dogs, salad on a stick, and strawberry shortcake in a jar with fruit-flavored mojitos and a lemonade bar?”

“Fancier than what you had in mind, but Ainsley sent me links to wedding planning articles. Having the right menu is a big deal. That means serving more than turkey sandwiches and bags of chips.”

Brody didn’t sound like himself. Or a man. He also seemed to forget this wedding wasn’t happening. No guests would be eating the food.

“You read the articles?” Cara asked.

“No, but I saw the pictures, and I’ve attended weddings.” He peeked inside the box. “The food and alcohol are the best parts.”

Which told her Brody might be ready to plan a fake wedding but not a real one. Her stomach cartwheeled.

“We’ll need to send her an invitation,” he said.

“Who?”

“Ainsley.”

Cara’s blood pressure spiraled. He made it sound as if they would make an actual guest list and mail invites. “In case you’ve forgotten, there’s not going to be a wedding. And while we’re on the subject, you’d better not be getting any ideas about baby making, either.”

Not that he would, but she said the words for her sake, too.

He laughed, the rich sound as smooth and warm as cheese fondue. “What about a pretend baby? Hypothetically speaking.”

Ignoring Brody, she handed him a decorated cardboard box with their names written in script and overlaid by hearts. Cute, but a total waste of the Bay View House’s talent. “It’s a customized lunch box.”

“Let’s sit on the floor.” After putting the lunch box into the bigger box, he carried everything over to the spot he’d set up.

Cara sat next to him and then removed a thermos. “Lavender-infused lemonade.”

“I thought we’d get to start with the fruit-flavored mojitos.”

“No way.” She touched her belly. “I don’t want anyone to accuse me of endangering my fake pregnancy by drinking alcohol with my pretend baby daddy fiancé.”

“That could be a lyric from a country western song.” He laughed. “We’ve reached the this-is-outrageous saturation point.”

“I think that happened last night.” She poured lemonade into the two Mason jar glasses that were inside the box. Each jar contained a sprig of lavender.

His thigh pressed against hers. Not even the clothing between them could keep the heat from sizzling on contact. Her blood simmered.

Uh-oh. Not good. She needed to focus on the task at hand—wedding, not Brody.

He placed his large hand over hers. The gesture gave her a sense of belonging and security. After being on her own for way too long, she relished his company and the feelings.

Their engagement might be pretend, but this felt real.

And oh so right.

She gulped, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

Cara stared into her glass. “This is nice.”

She didn’t mean only the lemonade and picnic lunch.

Brody raised his glass. “To you. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and I’m sorry it took trying to salvage Caitlin’s PR nightmare and now one of our own for us to spend time together.”

Cara’s heart soaked up the words. She wanted to enjoy the warm fuzzies for as long as she could.

Not real, but she didn’t care. This was more than she’d had in…forever. As long as they didn’t kiss, she would be fine.

“Let’s make the most of it.” The affection in his gaze matched her growing feelings for him. She tapped her jar against his. “Cheers.”