The Sweetheart Hoax Page 7

  “Ouch.” He leaned down to rub his aching shin. “Mom,” he said and stood up to talk to her face-to-face. He couldn’t stand Margot’s accusing stare. “That’s not necessary. I know how you and dad feel about unmarried couples sleeping together under your roof. Neither of us would want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Sweetheart,” she tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot and reached out to squeeze his arm. “You’re thirty-one years old. Seeing as how you’ve never brought a woman home, your dad and I aren’t going to make you two pretend you’re not sleeping together. We’re fine with it.”

  “You’re fine with it,” he repeated. Who was this woman and what had she done with his mother? “That’s very considerate of you and dad, but I won’t put you or Margot in that position. I’ll sleep in the den. It certainly won’t be the first time.”

  His mother turned around and, after giving Margot a forced smile, the same smile he’d seen her give to Mrs. Collinsworth after she’d given his mom a backhanded compliment after her second place finish in Cash’s annual chili cook-off, said, “Nonsense. You’ll sleep in the guest room with your girlfriend and that’s final.”

  Phil looked at Margot. Her eyes had turned dark with annoyance and her mouth twitched. She looked ready to take a swing at him if he dared step closer. He took a chance when he saw her open her mouth to speak. He yanked her chair back from the table and pulled her to her feet. “I’ll just show Margot to her room and let her change for the game.” He ignored the sting of her nails biting into his hand. “Kickoff still at seven?”

  “Seven sharp,” his mother said. “Give me fifteen minutes to get dinner on the table.”

  “Great.” He dragged her from the room and up the stairs. Dinner with his family, a high school football game, and sleeping with his ex-receptionist and pretend girlfriend in his boyhood home. What could be better?

  ***

  Margot was momentarily distracted from her red-hot anger by the sights passing by her. Fireplaces set with wooden logs waiting for a match and an evening at home. Fluttering curtains, worn rugs, rocking chairs, family photographs framed along the creaking staircase. Phil’s house screamed HOME as much as the needlepoint pillow she’d noticed on the chair in the foyer announcing they were Home Sweet Home.

  He practically shoved her into an upstairs bedroom and leaned against the closed door, staring at her with one brow raised. “I know this isn’t what you agreed to,” he said with his palms in the air. “I’m not real thrilled about it either.”

  Of course he wasn’t thrilled. She felt sure the last thing he wanted was to sleep in the same bed with her. Other than panic and an upset stomach that could very well be due to the ultra-sweet tea, she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about the turn of events. Phil’s mother, Margot could tell, was up to something.

  “Your mom planned this, Phil. She’s a part of the plan.”

  “What plan?” he asked. “My mother would never allow us to sleep together under normal circumstances.”

  “What’s so abnormal?” Margot asked. “You told her you were bringing someone to stay for the weekend. If she really had a problem with us sleeping together, she would have made arrangements to have a bed brought in.”

  “Hummm. You may be right.” He paced across the room and pivoted at the base of a beautiful iron bed. The ancient quilt had daisies that matched the flowers in a bud vase on the lone nightstand. “But why would she violate her own moral code? Do you think she really thinks I’m gay?” He slapped his hands on his head and yanked on the ends of his hair. Margot had never seen him so upset or so unconcerned about his locks. “My God. My own mother!”

  “I don’t know what her motives are, but between the two of us, I’m the one who needs consoling. You said I’d have my own room!”

  “I couldn’t have anticipated this turn of events, Margot. I swear this is the last thing I expected to happen. My brother and his wife couldn’t even sleep in the same room when they were engaged.”

  “What are we going to do?” she asked. All Margot could think about was the sexy nightgown Kate had insisted she pack “just in case” something happened. She’d look and feel like a fool slipping between the simple cotton sheets in a sheer chemise, and the only other thing she’d packed were her Scooby-Doo sleep pants and matching Shaggy top. In the immortal words of her favorite comic hero, Ruh-Roh!

  Phil looked around the sparse room. The only other piece of furniture besides a chest at the end of the bed was a wooden rocking chair in the corner. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “Phil, you can’t sleep on the floor. What about your back?”

  “What about my back?” he asked. He looked a little wild with his hair mussed and his hands on his hips.

  “Your basketball injury? How do you think your back would feel after sleeping on hardwood floors?”

  “That was a pulled muscle, like, two years ago.” He cocked his head and studied her as she felt a blush creeping up her face. “I can’t believe you even remember that.”

  Whoops. She’d admitted too much and needed to diffuse the situation. “Neither one of us is sleeping on the floor.” They both eyed the bed. Margot couldn’t even imagine Phil’s body fitting between the ornate headboard and low scrolled footboard. Out of sheer necessity, they’d be all over one another. “We’ll just have to share.”

  “Margot.” He dropped his hands and moved to stand before her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. The pitiful look of appeal on his face spoke volumes about his interest in sharing the bed. “You have my word I won’t take advantage of the situation. I promise nothing will happen.”

  “Trust me, Phil. Your disinterest in me is obvious.” She pulled out of his grasp and heaved her suitcase onto the open luggage rack in the corner. She unzipped her bag and rifled through her things to gather what she needed to change. With her arms full of clothes, she turned to face him. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  “Across the hall.” She moved past him and had her hand on the knob when he said, “I’m really sorry about this, Margot.”

  Not as sorry as she was going to be when the weekend was over.

  The bathroom door wouldn’t lock. Of course. Margot stood looking at her reflection in the mirror and fought back tears. What was she doing here? How was she going to protect her heart when every time Phil opened his mouth, he shot daggers straight into her chest? She took a deep breath and assessed her appearance. The dress had held up well over the very long afternoon. Kate had been right about that, at least. Her hair was another matter. Corkscrews were popping out at the top of her head and after she slipped out of her dress and put on the shirt she picked out to wear to the game, it looked as though she’d reached the end of the frizz control’s limits. She ran her fingers through her hair and dabbed at the mascara leaking around the edges of her eyes. It would have to do, she thought as she stepped into the hallway and saw Phil lounging on the bed of their room, waiting for her to return.

  She had to fight the urge to drop her things on the floor and fling herself on top of him if only to show him what he could do with his sorry. When he sat bolt upright and turned to face her, she thought he’d caught her staring and could read her mind. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “My father’s home.”

  Chapter 10

  Judy Williams gasped when her husband entered the kitchen through the side laundry door. “Oh, Bolton, you scared the life out of me.”

  Bo set his things on the counter and leaned over her shoulder to sniff the soup she was preparing to ladle into bowls. “I saw a car in the drive. Are they here?”

  “Upstairs now. They’ll be down any minute.”

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  Judy set the ladle down and turned into her husband’s arms. “Oh, Bo. I like her. She’s not at all what I expected.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He tried to grab a biscuit from the cookie sheet and she swatted his hand away. The man wouldn’t lose any mor
e weight if he kept nibbling between meals. “I mean she’s…petite and blonde. She’s all dolled up, but there’s something wholesome about her underneath. I like the way she looks at Phil.”

  “You think it’s for real?” he asked. “I thought you were worried he’d bring any old woman home.”

  She tapped her finger to her lips asking him to please keep his voice down. There was no way for them to come down the creaking stairs without notice, but she didn’t want to take the chance her husband’s deep baritone would carry. “I thought he would if he didn’t have someone special in his life, but I get the impression there are feelings involved.”

  “I’m still not real sure why you did this. Don’t you think if he were serious with a woman, he’d eventually bring her around?”

  “Bo, I can’t wait to meet my future daughter-in-law on the eve of the wedding. He’s been down in South Carolina for too long. He never talks about the women in his life and if I have to use underhanded tactics to find out about him, I will. The good Lord knows my motives are pure.”

  “The Lord may know, Judy, but the citizens of Cash sure don’t. I can’t stand people thinking he’s gay because Devon can’t keep his mouth closed.”

  “Devon told me you’re the one who blabbed while a customer was in the store.”

  Bo tried again to reach for a biscuit and Judy maneuvered between him with a breadbasket. “I was whispering,” he said. “He’s the one who can’t talk without shouting. Paul Reynolds’ son overheard and the next thing I know he’s screaming, ‘Daddy, did you know Mr. Williams’ son is gay?’ Devon was so embarrassed he made sure Paul knew it was Phil and not him. Now everybody knows.”

  Judy shook away the unpleasant idea that Phil’s reputation had been ruined by her antics and insisted it would all work out in the end. “So Margot solves everyone’s problem. He can show her off this weekend, we can find out more about our son’s future, and we’ll squelch the rumor at the same time.”

  “I don’t know, Judy. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  When the stairs began groaning under the weight of their guests, she shushed her husband and waved her arms in the air. “Act natural,” she told him. “The show is about to begin.”

  ***

  Phil placed his hand at the base of Margot’s spine and carefully led her toward the kitchen where he knew his dad was waiting. He didn’t remember being this nervous when he’d first brought Julianne home at the tender age of sixteen. Of course, what parent didn’t want their son to date the beautiful daughter of the town’s most respected minister?

  Phil wasn’t nervous about convincing them he and Margot were a couple; for the last few hours, he’d had a hard time convincing himself they weren’t a couple. When she stormed into the bathroom, he’d walked over and fingered a piece of lace lingerie that had draped over the edge of her suitcase. He reclined on the bed and tried not to envision her wearing the sweet nothing when he heard the roar of his dad’s engine outside. Dread crawled up his spine like a spider up a web. Bo Williams had come home to face his pansy son.

  Margot stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the hallway, only inches from the kitchen door. She spun around and looked up at him with panic in her eyes. “I need to go change,” she said and slid past him onto the stairs.

  He caught up with her when she’d only gotten three steps up, turning her around. For the first time, they stood eye to eye. “Why do you need to change? You look…” He hadn’t really noticed what she had on as he’d been so focused on the upcoming confrontation with his father. He glanced down at her cheetah print ankle boots, army green cargo pants, and tight white t-shirt hiding under a denim jacket with a cheetah scarf. She looked like a sexy kitten on the prowl. “You look amazing,” he said with a purr in his voice even he recognized as a come on. “Don’t change a thing.”

  “Are you sure?” She sandwiched her bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes glimmered in the muted light. Had he ever noticed the flecks of gold against the brown?

  “Margot…” His body moved toward her like a magnet.

  The sound of his mother’s voice had him pulling back with a jolt. “Dinner’s ready,” his mother called. “If you two are going to eat before the game, we need to get to it.”

  “Don’t change,” he said.

  She rewarded him with an unsteady smile and nodded her head. “Okay.”

  He slid his hand down her arm and laced his fingers through hers. When she didn’t move, he gave her a gentle tug and she joined him at the base of the stairs.

  He didn’t feel nervous walking into the kitchen where his dad poked through the breadbasket while his mom carried bowls to the table she’d set. He felt confused by the woman at his side. He couldn’t quite put a name to the feelings she stirred, but he did know they made him uncomfortable. What had he been about to say to her when his mother called them into the kitchen? Had he really considered kissing her? His universe, it seemed, had turned on its axis.

  His dad dropped a biscuit on his plate and dusted his hands off on the orange napkin that matched his mother’s sunflower themed kitchen. He got to his feet. “Phil,” he stuck his hand out, forcing Phil to drop Margot’s hand. His dad inspected him from head to toe. “We’re going to the game tonight, son, not the rodeo. What the hell are you wearing?”

  “Dad,” Phil said, ignoring his father’s insult. “This is Margot Manning. Margot, my dad, Bo Williams.”

  His father fumbled around the table and gave Margot a dainty handshake. Phil had never seen him act so clumsy.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Williams,” Margot said. “You have a beautiful home and I appreciate you welcoming me into it this weekend.”

  “Oh, we’re glad you’re here, Margot. And please call me Bo.”

  “You two have a seat,” his mother instructed. She ushered them to the built in bench along the window. His mother and father sat in the chairs opposite Margot and him. “Go on and get your fill. The burgers at the game don’t taste nearly as good as they smell. This should tide you over until later. I’ve got pie in the oven for after the game.”

  “Apple?” Phil asked hopefully.

  “Of course.”

  “Margot loves pecan, but she’s never tasted your apple, Mom.” How had he come to know Margot’s taste in food, he wondered as he shoveled in spoonfuls of stew. He’d gotten into the habit of bringing her snacks, mostly the sweet kind, not long after she’d first begun working at the office. He’d never given much thought to why he brought her sweet treats or how her simple appreciation of them kept the tradition going. When she really liked something he’d brought her, she’d give a moan of delight. Maybe they’d eat their pie in the bedroom later and see just how—

  “Phillip?” His mother asked. “You’re a million miles away.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “Is everything set for the party tomorrow?”

  “As set as its going to be,” his mother said. “I’m going over to the American Legion tomorrow afternoon to decorate with Sheryl.”

  “Sheryl’s my sister-in-law,” Phil explained to Margot.

  “I know,” Margot said without thinking. “She owns the flower shop. She and Devon have been married for eight years.”

  “Well,” his mother’s eyes lit up with delight. “I guess Phil does mention us every now and again.”

  Margot flashed him a playful grin that had the blood draining from his brain. “You’d be surprised how much I know, Mrs. Williams.”

  “Call me Judy.” Phil passed his mom the butter tub after she’d put a biscuit on her plate. “So tell us about you, Margot. What do you do?”

  “I’m a nurse, well…almost a nurse. I take my licensing exam next week, and then I’ll be on staff at the hospital in Charleston.”

  “A nurse? How exciting. I can’t stand the sight of blood.”

  “That’s fairly common,” Margot said.

  “And does your family live in the area or are you a transplant like Phil?”

  �
��I was born and raised in Echo. My mother died a few years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry, dear.” His mom reached out and patted Margot’s arm. “I lost my mother two years ago. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you and your father.”

  “I’ve never met my father.”

  “You haven’t?” Phil asked before he thought better of revealing how little he knew of her personal life. She spared him a fleeting glance before dropping her eyes and fiddling with her spoon.

  “How about you, Judy?” Margot asked. “Do you work outside the home?”

  Phil had to stifle a snort. His mother hadn’t been employed in over thirty years and if Margot had read his bios she would have known.

  “Oh, I haven’t had a job in years, not since putting Bo through school. I do some volunteer work for the church and I run a book blogging site.”

  “A book blogging site?” he asked before Margot could get the words out.

  “Honey,” she said with a pink glow to her cheeks. “You know how much I love to read. Devon set me up a website and I post reviews and do author interviews. I’ve got over five hundred followers.”

  “Followers?”

  “For the blog,” she answered. “I’m even on Twitter.”

  “You’re on Twitter?” he asked.

  “The book blogging community is very forward thinking. I’m on it all—Facebook, Twitter, Google plus. If you’d ever get on Facebook like I asked you to, this wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  He washed away the distaste in his mouth with a swallow of tea. “I hate that kind of stuff, Mom.”

  “You may hate it, but it would do wonders for your business.”

  He put his spoon down after finishing the bowl. “Business is fine.” He looked at Margot and smiled. “Can you imagine if I asked Danny to get on Facebook?”