made sure to close the door behind him so her father wouldn’t be tempted to wander in and join the conversation.
“This is…not as exciting as I would’ve hoped,” Alex said, looking at the crammed-together file cabinets, shelves, a ratty, mustard-colored couch that had literally been there Sydney’s entire life, and a wooden desk.
Draping the fleece over the rolling chair behind the desk, Sydney almost laughed. “It’s about to get exciting, believe me. I have a favor to ask.”
“First off, let’s back up about two minutes. Why does your grandmother think that I’m your fiancé?”
“It’s purely wishful thinking. With a soupçon of confusion. We were talking about him right before you walked in the door.”
“You’re engaged?” Sydney felt his gaze, like a thorough caress, rake up and down her body. She wore jeans and a cape-sleeved beige sweater, but Alex’s heated stare made her feel like she was in La Perla lingerie. “Lucky man.”
“Actually…no. I’m not engaged. To the unending consternation of my grandmother.”
“I’m confused.”
This was it. The moment to shake her head, laugh, and lead them back out. To not risk making a complete fool out of herself.
But she’d already made the ultimate sacrifice by coming home for three months. What was an awkward extension to that time?
Sydney sat on the couch. Patted the cushion next to her for Alex to sit as well. Then she folded her hands in her lap. “My grandmother almost died a few weeks ago. Or, we thought she was going to. Cancer.”
He angled more sideways, his knee brushing hers. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, it turns out she’s fine. Hopefully will be, at least. They read the scan wrong—or there was a shadow? It’s unclear. There’s a lot of CYA going on by the hospital staff as to the overly dire diagnosis.”
“I’m not surprised. Are they hoping you’ll skip the lawsuit out of sheer gratitude that she’s not on her deathbed?”
“Maybe. I’m not really dialed into the details, since I just got here a few days ago. The surgery went well, but she still has a few rounds of chemo ahead of her.”
Alex nodded once. “Ah. That explains the mask.”
He unwound a pale blue scarf that perfectly matched his eyes. From its semi-bulky, uneven rows, it was obviously hand-knitted. It said a lot about a man’s character that he’d ignore suaveness and fashion and instead choose sentiment.
“She shouldn’t even be out of the house. She fell after getting up too soon after the operation, and tore her stitches. Now she’s started chemo. That gives her the impossible task of needing to stay healthy in the depths of cold season. But…well, the Mercantile’s her baby. Almost as much as my dad is. We literally couldn’t keep her at home another day.”
“Strong lady.”
“You have no idea.” Daisy Darrow had held their family together in its darkest times by sheer force of will. She was the one who’d told Sydney to go chase her dreams, even if it meant leaving Chestertown, when everyone else argued against it.
“She doesn’t seem addled, though. So how about you circle around to why she thinks we’re engaged?”
“Before the supposedly dicey surgery, I couldn’t get back in time to say goodbye. I wanted to make her smile, though, when we video chatted. She’s a bleeding-heart romantic. Every single phone call begins with her asking if I’ve met anyone special. So…I invented an engagement.”
“That’s a bold choice.”
“Bigger than I knew.” The anesthesiologist had warned them that she’d have some memory loss. Probably centered around right before and after the operation. So Sydney had assumed the white lie wasn’t too much of a gamble. “As soon as I walked in the door three days ago, she remembered it.”
Alex swiped his palm over his mouth. It didn’t hide the fact that he was trying and failing at not snickering. “That’s rough for you. When are you going to tell her that you lied? Because if it’s today, how about you give me a twenty-minute heads-up? My friend Everleigh would be fascinated to watch.”
“Very funny. And that depends on how you answer the question.”
“What question?”
Taking a deep breath, Sydney focused on his blue eyes. The tiny crinkles at the edges. The super long, super dark lashes that probably made his red-headed sister bitterly jealous. He’d listened to her whole story patiently. Fully engaged. So many men would’ve not paid attention. Alex gave the impression that he was all-in on a conversation, whether arguing or laughing or sympathizing.
Yikes.
She’d spiraled out a little bit there. He was too handsome and