“He’ll want to call Brad Harrington for a personal bodyguard.” A faint smile wafted over Nichole’s stunned face.
Chase straightened. “I can protect him.”
“As can I.” Nichole tipped her chin up. “He’ll still want the bodyguard.”
“I can be one,” Chase vowed. This was one thing he could do: protect Nichole and Wesley. After all, it was his fault the media had gotten involved.
“You can’t be with him all the time.” Nichole fussed with her apron. “It’s fine. The school won’t let unauthorized visitors inside. Dan is on car pool and soccer practice duty this afternoon.”
“Then you can leave early for the ski-moon.” Nonna beamed.
A notification pinged on Nichole’s phone, lighting up the home screen. Nichole picked up her phone and gasped.
“Everything alright?” Understatement of the year. Chase flinched.
“My grandmother just texted.” Nichole stared at her phone. Her voice distant and distracted. “One of my supposed high school friends just left their house. He works for the local newspaper. My grandmother thinks he’s wonderful and their conversation so delightful, she has invited him back.”
Nonna tsked. “The press will be waiting outside your house too, my dear.”
“Seriously?” Nichole’s phone dropped into the wide apron pocket.
Chase lowered the heat on the potato pot and the bleak edge in his voice. “It’s their job.”
“It was one wedding. People get married all the time.” Nichole paced around the small kitchen; her hands waved in front of her. “At courthouses, churches and backyards every single day.”
“But they don’t marry Chase Jacobs, the city’s favorite adventurer bachelor.” Nonna tracked Nichole’s restless circular path from the refrigerator to the sink and back again.
“I’m really sorry.” Chase stepped in front of Nichole, suspending her pacing. Still her hands drifted from the back of her head to her chin to her waist and back up again. Chase moved closer, locked his gaze on her. Waited. Waited until she concentrated on him. Only him. “I am sorry. And we can stop all this. Right now.”
Her hands settled between them, resting on his chest. Her bewildered gaze searched his face and cleared. “You’re serious.”
“I’ll take the blame. All of it.” Chase locked his elbows and kept his arms stiff at his sides. If he took her hand, he’d forget. Forget this was his fault. Forget he’d exposed her private world to public scrutiny. Forget she wasn’t his.
“What about the fallout?” Her fingers curled into his shirt. “Your reputation. Your contract.”
Chase ignored the warmth from her touch. “I’ll make sure the sale of your app is finalized.”
“That was our agreement.” A smile creased across her lips, only a shadow. She whispered, “I can’t ski.”
Chase blinked. Everything slow-rolled into a tumble and settled. “We’re doing this? The ski-moon?” The pretense. The everything.
“We have an agreement.” Nichole leaned forward, pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Last time I checked we hadn’t signed our contracts.”
Last time he’d checked, kissing Nichole Moore hadn’t topped his priority list. His cheek tingled. “I’ll teach you to ski.”
Nichole stepped away from him and pulled out her cell phone. “I need to call Brooke and the school.”
Chase gave in and curved his palm around his cheek. “I’ll call my agent.”
Nonna dashed around the kitchen, grinning into her potato pot, humming into the flour container. “The potatoes are ready.”
Chase slid his phone into his back pocket and picked up the pot from the stove.
“I like Nichole.” Nonna adjusted the colander in the sink and nodded at Chase to empty the pot. “I like her a lot.”
“I like Nichole too.” And he did. More than he wanted to admit.
“You can’t treat her like the others, Chase.” Nonna picked up the potato ricer and handed it to Chase. “Her heart is good. She’s not used to your lifestyle.”
“What others?” Chase grabbed another mixing bowl and the potato ricer. He’d dated other women. Nothing serious. Nothing lasting. He wouldn’t have asked any of his past girlfriends to act as his pretend wife. One would’ve misinterpreted the pretend part. Two would’ve reminded him that marriage wasn’t part of their five-or ten-year career plans.
“The ones you kept at a distance and used for the occasional photo opportunity.” Nonna scooped steaming potatoes into the ricer. “Those others. Nichole isn’t like them, Chase.”
Nonna’s wisdom set Chase back at times. She was no ordinary grandmother. And Nichole was no ordinary single mom either. She was a longtime friend. Nothing more. “I know who Nichole is.”
“I don’t suspect that you do.” Nonna waited for Chase to squeeze the potatoes into the bowl and added more. “But you’ll see what I’m talking about soon enough. Time brings insight. Look at me, at my age, I’ve gained more wisdom and clarity than a library.”
He knew all he needed to know about Nichole. He didn’t need more time. He wasn’t interested in learning more or discovering secrets she’d never shared with anyone.
Nichole returned to the kitchen. Chase wondered about her secrets. Wondered about the intriguing woman she’d become. “Everything good?”
“Brooke and Dan will take Wesley the next two nights and meet us in Tahoe on Friday afternoon. The school is on notice.” Nichole rocked onto the balls of her feet and back down, rubbing her hands together.
Exhaustion tinted the skin beneath her eyes. Or perhaps that was the doubt and uncertainty. Uncertainty that they were doing the right thing. Chase had never second-guessed his decisions so much. He had to commit. If only committing to Nichole sounded as simple as accepting a drone flight dare. Chase pushed more potato through the ricer and pushed confidence into his tone. “Travis is finding us a rental home.”
“What now?” Nichole asked.
“We make gnocchi.” Nonna thrust the flour container at Nichole. “Together.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
YOUR GETAWAY CAR has arrived.
Nichole sent a thumbs-up reply to Brooke’s text, stuffed her phone in her jacket pocket, grabbed a pair of boots from her entryway and peeked into the front yard one last time. Still inaccessible. Thanks to the news van parked in her driveway and the two news vans crammed in front of her neighbor’s house. Another news van crawled along
