Only for You Read online

  Growing closer the past few months had had zero effect on him.

  A relationship with her was nothing but a wild idea, crafted by Blake.

  Chapter Four

  Ridiculous, Emily had called him. That’s what this entire Behind Closed Doors fiasco was. Women milled around the entrance of Great Wide Open. They were forward, too—a few had sent messages to his Instagram asking if he was working today. Tim pulled the white cotton drapes closed on his living room windows to block out the view of the shop and then fired off a text to Matt, one of his part-time staff members, to help cover the rest of the afternoon. He needed to just close out the world and clear his head.

  It was almost lunchtime, so he went to the kitchen and rooted through the fridge for the makings of a sandwich. None of the options staring back appealed to him. He should’ve been hungry by now, but flashbacks of the conversation with Emily robbed him of his appetite.

  God, he was such a tool, tossing that idea at her, assuming she’d think it was a riot and go along with it. He knew Emily—knew the things she liked (flowers, chocolate, fizzy wine) and the things she detested (when a date tried to order for her at a restaurant). Her standards were top-notch. He should’ve guessed she wouldn’t want to parade around as his pretend girlfriend. The whole thing had just been too much to ask of her. He kept forgetting that some people actually had real relationship goals in life, and nobody’s were more unwavering than Emily Holland’s. She joked all the time about holding out for Mr. Right. All his dumb plan would do is interfere if the lucky guy came along.

  And then as if he hadn’t done enough damage, he’d gone and called her by a name she apparently detested. Who knew? He’d been calling her Shorty since high school, when they were in the same history class. She always sat behind him and had to crane her neck to see the board. He’d offered to trade spots so she could see better. If she had a problem with the nickname, this was the first he’d ever heard of it.

  Should he apologize again? Do something nice for her to try to make it up to her?

  Maybe it was best to just let it go and avoid drawing any more attention to Blake’s lame idea.

  Tim’s phone lit up with a call. His mom. He forced a smile and answered the FaceTime call. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”

  Her brow relaxed a little when he answered, though her eyes still darted around like she wasn’t sure exactly where to look. She still hadn’t really gotten the hang of the iPad he and his sister had bought her for her birthday. “Hi, honey, happy Friday!”

  “Happy Friday.” He’d made it through the week. “Do you have a hot date tonight?”

  It was a loaded question. His dad had been gone over six years, and she still refused to let a man so much as take her to lunch. Her poor neighbor Mr. Thompson had made several attempts. Tim and his sister both wished she’d enjoy life a little more, but she seemed content being on her own.

  Creases formed around her eyes at his lame joke. “Yeah, a date with some leftover cheesecake and a couple of movies on TV. Maybe a glass of wine, if I’m feeling wild.” She rolled her lips together and they formed a crease before she went on. “How have you been holding up? Are you still getting bombarded with phone calls and messages?”

  “Yeah, the shop’s been like a zoo the past few days. I actually took the afternoon off.” Because he didn’t want her to worry about him, he added, “I’m already feeling better.”

  Lie.

  Relief washed across her face. “I’m so glad. You should just spend the weekend here at the house. Distance yourself from Great Wide Open and all the drama.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  His mom bit her lip and wrinkled her brow in pity. “I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

  Tim carried his phone to the living room and sank into the cushions of his brown leather couch. An image of their first date flashed before his eyes—Melissa sitting across the table on the upper patio of the yacht club, where they’d met for lunch. They’d talked for three hours that day, and he’d immediately asked her on a second date. He’d never done that in his life. “Me too.”

  He’d cast all his rules aside with Mel, opened his heart, and look where it got him—betrayed, heartbroken, and humiliated. “I’m still angry she didn’t have the decency to rip my heart out in private, at least.”

  His mom nodded, but didn’t pursue the topic further. “Please think about coming over. I think you could use the distraction.”

  “I’m jamming over at Jay’s tonight with him and Rob.”

  “Tomorrow, then, or Sunday,” his mom suggested. “Some peace and quiet would probably do you wonders, and I have a coconut cream pie here with your name on it.”

  He never turned down food. And he knew this was her way of ensuring she could see for herself that he really was doing okay in the midst of all the drama. They made loose plans for Sunday, then he ended the call, turned off his phone, and set it on the end table, next to a framed family photo taken at his sister Tanya’s wedding.

  He tended not to clutter his space with too many photos or mementos, but this was the last family picture they’d taken before his dad passed. Everyone was dressed up and glowing from the champagne. He, his dad, and his brother-in-law, Kyle, were decked out in their Navy whites. His dad’s uniform was decorated with medals.

  Admiral Wayne Fraser retired with thirty-five years in the service. They had a big party to celebrate, and then six months later he dropped dead. No warning. Just a massive heart attack.

  He had been the picture of health.

  Tim made some life choices in the days and weeks that followed. He couldn’t spend one more day in a career that had been chosen for him, for a pension he might never live to enjoy. Losing his father proved that life could turn upside down on a dime. Nobody is guaranteed tomorrow, and every single day should be lived to the fullest. It was quite literally the last lesson his father ever taught him.

  Even if he would’ve been disappointed with Tim’s decisions.

  His mom was right. Some time over at the house would be good for him. He needed to get out of his apartment and away from downtown to recharge. Before the shop expansion, when his business was mostly seasonal, Tim would be conveniently out of Dodge by now. Winters were spent beachcombing or, in recent years, visiting Mel in New York. No such luck this year. The past few days had taken a toll, but how he dealt with it was all on him. He would not let Melissa and that damn show steal one more minute from him.

  He changed his clothes and pulled a ball cap over his wavy hair to brave the slushy streets for a run. With his ear pods providing some classic rock, he bounded down the stairs and out the front door of the shoe factory to avoid any glimpse of Great Wide Open. The frigid air filled his lungs as he picked up his pace to a light jog, passing by town hall, the library, and then rounding the corner to tackle the steep hill. Each slap of his soles on the icy pavement felt like a small victory as he left all the chaos behind.

  After the fifth time he screwed up the rhythm of the song they practiced, Tim tossed his drumsticks across Jay’s garage, where they landed next to an artificial Christmas tree with a clatter. Jay trailed off on the chorus, turning to glare at him, and Rob’s strumming came to a halt. His guitar hung around his neck when he spun around. “Dude, what is with you tonight?”

  Tim wiped his hair off his brow with the back of his hand. They only jammed for fun, but it still annoyed him that his rhythm was off. “Let’s take five.” He pushed off his stool and sauntered over to an empty lawn chair to put some distance between himself and the drums.

  Jay lifted his guitar over his head and placed it on the stand. “Is this hashtag stuff getting to you?”

  “No…I mean it is, but that’s not what’s tripping me up.” He rolled his shoulder to alleviate the building ache there.

  Rob grabbed three bottles of water from the bar fridge. “Then what’s going on?”

  Tim twisted the cap off the water Rob handed him. “Blake had an idea on how to ward of
f the attention on social media and from the show’s producers.” He rubbed his temple before going on. “He figured if I had a girlfriend, or a fake one, rather, everyone would lay off.”

  Rob and Jay exchanged another look, and both of their mouths twitched.

  “What?”

  Jay leaned forward, studying him. “You’re going to get yourself a fake girlfriend?”

  “Not anymore. The plan was to convince Em, but she shot me down.”

  Rob’s dark eyes widened. “You asked Emily to go along with this idea?”

  Tim tapped his shoe against the concrete floor a few times before launching into all the reasons she made the perfect fake girlfriend.

  Rob rubbed his chin. “You know, I’ve always wondered…why haven’t you two ever tried dating for real?”

  “Yeah, it’s like she’s been under your nose all these years, and you’ve never even noticed her,” Jay added.

  “Never noticed her? I’ve always noticed her.” Who wouldn’t? She had a bubbly and sweet personality, talent, and spunk. And she was gorgeous—one of those people who just stood out. How could anyone think he hadn’t noticed that?

  He cleared his throat. “I’m not her type. And anyway, I just always assumed her to be off-limits.”

  “Off-limits?” Jay wrinkled his brow. He pointed a finger at Rob. “This guy’s sister wasn’t off-limits for me.”

  “That’s different.” Tim got up off his chair and wandered over to pluck his drumsticks off the floor. “Emily and I are really good friends. Besides my mother and sister, and maybe Leyna, she’s been the most constant female in my life, especially since all this Melissa shit went down.”

  And the possibility of her being angry with him gnawed at him.

  “What makes you think you’re not her type?” Jay pressed.

  She’d told him as much about four years ago, when she’d had too much to drink and almost kissed him. I can’t believe I just did that, she’d said. Hello, we’re not remotely each other’s type. I’m so drunk I don’t know what I’m doing. She’d asked him never to tell anyone, so he didn’t bring it up to the guys, but he knew her type anyway—polished pretty boys who used more hair product than she did. “Remember that boyfriend she had a while back? Bradley?”

  Rob snorted. “That was like four or five years ago. Why in the world would you bring him up?”

  Tim shrugged. “Just because of the kind of guy Bradley was.”

  Rob furrowed his brow. “He was a Marine, wasn’t he?”

  “Exactly.”

  Jay groaned. “Is this where you beat yourself up over leaving the Navy?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just saying that she’s got a type, and I’m not it. Anyway, I don’t want things to be weird for our group of friends.” Especially since he’d probably just end up screwing up and hurting her.

  Rob tossed his empty water bottle in the air and caught it. “Why would it be weird for us?”

  God, why were they not letting up? He felt like he was on trial here. He slumped back into the chair. “The last thing I need or want is a real girlfriend, after the mess I just got out of. If Emily heard you guys right now, she’d think you were nuts.” After all, she was looking for Mr. Right, the fairy tale, the whole nine yards.

  Basically everything he wasn’t.

  Jay and Rob exchanged a look. Rob picked his guitar back up and adjusted the tuning. “If that’s what has stopped you from ever pursuing anything with Emily, I think you need to let it go—just saying. Fake date her, real date her, whatever. Just make sure you think it through. Weigh out the pros and cons, because if feelings get involved and one of you isn’t on the same page, it could get weird. Now pick up those drumsticks and get your head in the game.”

  Chapter Five

  Emily parked her white SUV in front of the Victorian-style house where she grew up and tooted the horn. She picked her mom and Nana up for brunch at the same time every Sunday, and when she glanced up at the house, they were already bundled up on the wide veranda, huddled over the Christmas lights strung across the decorative railing.

  Leaving the car running, Emily got out and sauntered across the gravel driveway, snow crunching under her boots. “What’s going on?”

  “Your mother thinks we should take the Christmas lights down when we get back from brunch.” Nana fisted her hands on her narrow hips.

  Her mother took off her sunglasses, shook her head, and directed an exaggerated eye roll at Emily. “The holidays are over, Mom. And the temperature is supposed to be decent today. I figured it’d be the perfect opportunity to get them put away.”

  “I see no reason why we can’t leave them up year round,” her grandmother countered. “They’re just clear lights—nothing Christmassy about them. Besides, I like their ambiance.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ll thank me when you see the electricity bill,” her mom trilled, hoisting her purse onto her shoulder.

  “Well, it’s my house, Lynette, and I like the lights.” Nana stomped her boot on the snowy deck and folded her arms. “I say they stay.”

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Her mom started down the steps, pulling her gloves on. “Emily, can you talk some sense into her?”

  Emily and her mother moved in with Nana when Emily was thirteen, right after her parents separated. They’d just lost Grandad, so Nana welcomed the company. Not to mention that money was tight all around. It was the logical solution for everyone. The house was too huge for Nana to look after, and she refused to downsize. Over time it just made sense for her mom to stay.

  Naturally they bickered a little, but both of them had been short fused since Christmas dinner. Nana had invited Emily’s father, since his wife was celebrating the holidays with her two daughters in Florida. She hadn’t always been quite so welcoming of her ex-son-in-law, but over the years they’d all managed to settle into a certain dysfunctional family dynamic. Having her mom and dad together at a dinner table wasn’t especially typical, but it was not unheard of, either.

  This time, though, it had not gone over well with her mom for some reason. Her parents were usually on pretty good terms, but Emily had always gotten the idea that though their separation had been mutual at the time, her mother had held out hope they’d work things out. Though he still remained present in their lives, it had apparently been much easier for her father to move on. He’d dated a few women after mom, and eventually remarried five years later.

  Her mom would never ever admit to any of this, of course. Carrying a torch for someone who didn’t return your feelings? Not exactly something you shouted from the rooftops. Emily could relate.

  She eyed the little lights strung across the veranda. What would it hurt to leave them up? She knew better than to get caught in the middle, though, so she took them each by their leather-gloved hands and led them to her car. “Forget the lights for now. If we keep standing here, we’re going to miss our reservation.”

  Nana claimed shotgun, leaving her mother to ride in the back seat, which was perfect, since she could be a bit of a backseat driver anyway. They left the residential neighborhood behind and headed for the inn where they had their weekly date.

  Her mom moved to the middle of the back seat and rubbed her hands together. “Is there any way to turn up the heat back here?”

  “This from the one who just complained about the electricity bill,” Nana muttered, flipping the visor down and smoothing her hand over her silver waves.

  “For crying out loud.” Her mom heaved a giant sigh.

  “Well, maybe if you’d worn sensible boots, you wouldn’t be freezing your tail off,” Nana huffed.

  For God’s sake, they were on fire this morning. “What is with you two today?”

  “Mom’s got her nose out of joint because I told her that from now on I would appreciate a head’s-up if she plans to invite your father to any family gatherings.”

  “Have you been festering about Dad since Christmas Day?” Emily met her mother’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and he
r mom answered by putting on her sunglasses.

  “I was merely thinking of your daughter having a rare opportunity to have both her parents together at Christmas,” Nana clipped over her shoulder.

  It had been nice, having her dad visit for once without Emily’s overbearing stepmother attached to his side. When Beth wasn’t around, it was almost like old times—her mom and dad actually speaking; Nana tossing her usual quips at them both. He stayed in decent touch, but his new family had always seemed to take priority, and with them living two hours away, life sometimes got the upper hand. Sometimes they’d go weeks at a time without a phone call. Still, Emily would always welcome any opportunity to see more of him.

  “You should have discussed it with me,” her mom huffed. “I would think by now you’d understand that a head’s-up is always appreciated when it comes to Phil.”

  Emily decided to step in. “Did you guys hear about the clip of Tim on that reality TV show?” That’s right, this conversation required redirection.

  Nana gripped the armrest when Emily hit the brakes for a red light. “Yes, I saw his mother at the library, and she said his phone is ringing off the hook and his website crashed from an influx of online orders. Suddenly everyone wants Great Wide Open T-shirts, or some nonsense.”

  And suddenly Tim Fraser wanted a girlfriend. She hadn’t spoken to him since his little proposal, but she thought of little else. Since her outburst over the nickname Shorty, Emily had been going through phases of feeling empowered and then staring into space until mortification set in and all she wanted to do was crawl under the blankets and disappear. It was the equivalent of being on a roller coaster that never ended.

  She’d never exploded at him like that before—at any of her friends, for that matter. She’d always been the happy-go-lucky one of the group.

  Fretting that he’d show up looking for an explanation, she texted him the morning after with some ha-ha, don’t mind me, I’m just overwhelmed with work crap.