looks or her weight; her dad had often remarked that she could be her own worst enemy. But Ginny’s philosophy had always been laugh at herself before others could laugh at her.
“Ginny?”
Her gaze met his. “Sorry. Woolgathering.”
And with that she shut that closet door and locked all those skeletons away. There was no sense in worrying about Wes and whom he had dated or what his lifestyle was like. It wasn’t like they were actually together -together.
“You didn’t answer my question. What’s your life like, if it’s so different from mine?”
“I’ve pretty much lived in Cape Hope all my life. I went to a small liberal arts college in Massachusetts, then grad school. I got a job at my old high school. I’m quiet. I read books.”
“I read books, too.” Wes stopped at a red light. “What sort do you like?”
“A little bit of everything. Romance the most.”
Wes hid a smile. “I can’t say I’ve read those.”
“I figured.” Ginny stared at her clasped hands. “But I’m not like you. You seem like you have it all, and you’re used to Las Vegas life. Cape Hope is as different as they come.”
“And here I thought Cape Hope was a mini-Vegas. I’m shocked.” Wes looked at her. “How do I get to your place?”
“Oh. Sorry. Turn left at the next light and keep going straight until you see a sign for Victorian Square on your right.”
Wes was silent for a long moment. “I think you worry too much.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I do. You should just sit back and enjoy these next few months. It’s not going to be anything hard—the fake dating, I mean. We don’t need to have the same interests.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never dated—well, pretend dated someone—who has been so different.”
“Not safe, you mean.” He shook his head. “Like I said, this is all pretend, Ginny. Sure, I might not be like the other guys you’ve dated. You’re not like the other women I’ve dated.”
She glanced out the window, as they passed by rows of gingerbread houses. In a few miles, they would reach the turn-off for her apartment complex. “Yeah. I know that.”
“But this is why we’re together. We have nothing to lose. We’re just helping each other out. Like friends do.”
A sense of disquiet grew in her, wrapping itself into a coil of tension. She heard the message loud and clear: Don’t expect anything . Which was fine by her. She didn’t want to expect anything. She knew that Wes wasn’t a guy to stick around—in addition to the restless energy about him, she had read the many articles about his business, his parade of arm candy. He was the type of guy that was only committed to work, work, and more work. He wasn’t the settling down kind.
The only wrench in her assumptions about him was that he had left Las Vegas to help out his family. That was some type of commitment.
“Do you want to get married?” she blurted out, surprising both herself and him.
His hands clenched around the steering wheel. “Nope.”
“Oh.” She fell silent as he made the turn into Victorian Square. Cream-colored buildings were lined around a circle; she directed him down the street that branched off from the circle. Her place was a lone white building, with trees in the back, at the end of the street. She unhooked her seatbelt and started to open the door.
“You do?” His question stopped her.
“Not right now. Eventually.” Despite all her protests and fears that she would never find the right one, Ginny believed in the possibility of love. She’d seen her parents’ marriage—the love, the fights, the togetherness. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon, and true, most did end up in divorce. But there was a kernel of hope that perhaps she’d meet a guy, get swept away, and have a happily ever after.
“Well, if you meet someone while we’re ‘dating,’ we can always break it off.”
She got out of his Ford Explorer and just stared at him. His tone had been matter-of-fact and
“Ginny?”
Her gaze met his. “Sorry. Woolgathering.”
And with that she shut that closet door and locked all those skeletons away. There was no sense in worrying about Wes and whom he had dated or what his lifestyle was like. It wasn’t like they were actually together -together.
“You didn’t answer my question. What’s your life like, if it’s so different from mine?”
“I’ve pretty much lived in Cape Hope all my life. I went to a small liberal arts college in Massachusetts, then grad school. I got a job at my old high school. I’m quiet. I read books.”
“I read books, too.” Wes stopped at a red light. “What sort do you like?”
“A little bit of everything. Romance the most.”
Wes hid a smile. “I can’t say I’ve read those.”
“I figured.” Ginny stared at her clasped hands. “But I’m not like you. You seem like you have it all, and you’re used to Las Vegas life. Cape Hope is as different as they come.”
“And here I thought Cape Hope was a mini-Vegas. I’m shocked.” Wes looked at her. “How do I get to your place?”
“Oh. Sorry. Turn left at the next light and keep going straight until you see a sign for Victorian Square on your right.”
Wes was silent for a long moment. “I think you worry too much.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I do. You should just sit back and enjoy these next few months. It’s not going to be anything hard—the fake dating, I mean. We don’t need to have the same interests.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never dated—well, pretend dated someone—who has been so different.”
“Not safe, you mean.” He shook his head. “Like I said, this is all pretend, Ginny. Sure, I might not be like the other guys you’ve dated. You’re not like the other women I’ve dated.”
She glanced out the window, as they passed by rows of gingerbread houses. In a few miles, they would reach the turn-off for her apartment complex. “Yeah. I know that.”
“But this is why we’re together. We have nothing to lose. We’re just helping each other out. Like friends do.”
A sense of disquiet grew in her, wrapping itself into a coil of tension. She heard the message loud and clear: Don’t expect anything . Which was fine by her. She didn’t want to expect anything. She knew that Wes wasn’t a guy to stick around—in addition to the restless energy about him, she had read the many articles about his business, his parade of arm candy. He was the type of guy that was only committed to work, work, and more work. He wasn’t the settling down kind.
The only wrench in her assumptions about him was that he had left Las Vegas to help out his family. That was some type of commitment.
“Do you want to get married?” she blurted out, surprising both herself and him.
His hands clenched around the steering wheel. “Nope.”
“Oh.” She fell silent as he made the turn into Victorian Square. Cream-colored buildings were lined around a circle; she directed him down the street that branched off from the circle. Her place was a lone white building, with trees in the back, at the end of the street. She unhooked her seatbelt and started to open the door.
“You do?” His question stopped her.
“Not right now. Eventually.” Despite all her protests and fears that she would never find the right one, Ginny believed in the possibility of love. She’d seen her parents’ marriage—the love, the fights, the togetherness. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon, and true, most did end up in divorce. But there was a kernel of hope that perhaps she’d meet a guy, get swept away, and have a happily ever after.
“Well, if you meet someone while we’re ‘dating,’ we can always break it off.”
She got out of his Ford Explorer and just stared at him. His tone had been matter-of-fact and
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