MY FAKE FIANCÉ (The Greene Family #8)

Chapter 3

A few months later…

After a month and a half of scouring the reservations for Noah’s name and taking the night shifts in case he happened to pop in one night, I gave up. I told myself that yeah, there might’ve been a connection, but I’m not looking for a one-night stand, and no matter how hot the man is, that’s about all that’s on the table with a man who travels the world.

So I’m surprised when after coming in today and putting my coat on the hook, I feel Trina’s gaze on me. She’s got the same creepy smile she had when she thought Adele had checked in—only for us to find out it was an impersonator who had been hired by a man whose wife loved her.

“What?” I ask as I type my password into the computer.

“You should check the restaurant.” Trina’s smile widens.

I narrow my eyes then head that way. “Tell me what happened? Did someone call Francois Frank again? I told my brothers to stop joking around with him. He’s brilliant at what he does and…” I stop in my tracks when I spot Noah at one of the tables by the window.

He’s sporting the ponytail, although with completely dry brown hair this time. His long-sleeve shirt is taut along the shoulders and biceps, the sleeves pushed up and revealing the corded forearms I admired the night we met.

“He’s here,” Trina whispers in my ear. Except Trina’s idea of whispering is more like talking at a normal volume.

“What’s up, girls? Baby is hungry.” Nikki’s voice comes from behind me.

When I turn, I find her and Posey.

“What are we staring at?” Posey looks over my shoulder. “The lumberjack guy?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Yes,” Trina adds. “That’s Noah. He’s the guy who checked in three months ago and made Mandi o****m over an omelet.”

I really regret telling her all the details the morning after he checked out.

I push all three of them back into the reception area before he spots us.

“Hey, baby in the tummy,” Nikki complains. “And I’m sorry, he’s cute and all, but you can’t marry him.”

My forehead wrinkles. “Excuse me? No one said anything about marrying him.”

“I wouldn’t call him cute, Nik, more like hunk on a stick.” Posey leans to the side to try to get another look at him.

“I just went over names with Logan last night and there’s only one boy name we agree on.”

“You’ve been holding out on me all morning?” Posey asks, easily distracted from Noah—for the record, I don’t understand how he doesn’t hold her attention.

“We both like Noah,” Nikki says as though it’s obvious. “I don’t want some weird confusion if Mandi marries a Noah and my baby is named Noah. We’d always have to be, like, ‘Mandi’s Noah’ or ‘baby Noah’ and what will that mean for my poor son when he brings home his first girlfriend and his family calls him ‘baby Noah’ all the time?”

We all stare at her for a moment.

“Getting a little ahead of ourselves,” I say. “Plus, there’s no future with him anyway. Last time he was here was three months ago.”

Nikki leans back to look at him. “What does he do?”

“He’s a photographer.”

Nikki’s face lights up. “Oh, I want to get pregnancy photos.”

“Are you sure you want a guy named Noah photographing a Noah in your belly?” Posey asks and laughs.

Nikki, of course, doesn’t find it funny. Pregnancy hormones have made her humorous side disappear.

“Can we eat?” Nikki whines, ignoring our sister.

The front desk bell rings and I silently plea for Trina to stay on shift a smidge longer so I can get my sisters handled. Understanding my family well enough, Trina sighs but goes to the desk to handle the guest.

I pick up two menus and seat my sisters as far away from Noah as I can, but the restaurant isn’t that big.

“You’re crazy.” Posey picks up the menus from the table I took them to and walks toward Noah.

Nikki groans and follows. Posey positions them to the side of him, on the inside of the restaurant because they know my family doesn’t get the primo spots by the windows.

“Please tell Frank to hurry, the baby is kicking because it’s starving.” Nikki rubs her belly.

“How does Logan handle you?” Posey asks, looking at our sister’s belly in disgust.

“You just wait. One day you’ll be complaining while your husband can just sit there next to you, eat whatever he wants without heartburn, not need help standing up, and not need anyone to tie his shoes.” She sounds as if she’s ready to cry, so I give Posey a look over Nikki’s shoulder that says to cool it with her.

Posey picks up her menu. “Goat cheese omelet? When did you put this on the breakfast menu?”

I clear my throat. “A while ago.”

So far, Noah is busy staring out the window while glancing at his phone every so often. He doesn’t have a meal in front of him and I suppose I should really go say hello. What kind of innkeeper would I be if I didn’t?

“Mandi, breakfast?” Nikki says.

“You’re not her wicked stepsister,” Posey says.

“That would be me!” Chevelle comes in wearing her running gear and sits down next to Posey while staring at Nikki’s stomach. “Whoa, I think you grew five inches since yesterday. Ouch!” She looks at Posey and rubs her leg. Luckily, she seems to have understood the message. “But you’re as radiant as always. You can’t buy that natural glow.”

Nikki shoots Chevelle a small smile, but I know deep down she’s wishing us all horrible pregnancies.

“Check out the hunk,” Posey says, eyeing Noah once more.

“Eh, I’m not much of a ponytail girl, but those muscles look like they could rip that shirt in half.” Chevelle stacks the containers of jam, making a pyramid like she always does. Soon the creamer will be the second level.

“His name is Noah, and although Nikki’s declared that Mandi can’t marry him, I figure she can sleep with him and have some fun.”

Chevelle repositions her blonde ponytail. “Why can’t she marry him?”

“Because Nikki’s naming her baby Noah, so I guess that goes for all three of us,” Posey says. “As if finding a man in our small town isn’t hard enough, we need to scratch all Noahs off the list now.”

Nikki looks at Posey as though she wants to fork out her eye.

“Let me go get you some coffee and muffins.” I pat my sister’s shoulder and head into the kitchen, thankfully without Noah spotting me.

“Damn it!” Rachel, one of the servers, screams and runs over to the faucet.

Francois rings the bell that an order is ready, and I spot a goat cheese omelet on the plate.

“Can you take Rachel’s order? She burned her finger because even though I told her not to touch the pan, she did. I think we need to hire smarter people.” Frank, a.k.a. Francois, rolls his eyes. He’s never been happy with one person I’ve hired.

“Which table?” I ask.

“Five, and I have an order of pancakes for that table too. Hold up.” He positions another plate beside the omelet.

“How are you, Rachel?” I call.

The sous-chef, Nadia, is next to her. She shakes her head. “Let me get some Neosporin and a Band-Aid for her. Then she’ll be good.”

“And by then my food is cold. I do not want a bad review, Amanda. If I get a bad review, I leave this place.” Francois smacks his spatula on the grill.

“You threaten to leave every day.” I pick up the dishes, knowing I have no chance of getting out of this. “I’ve got it.”

I walk out of the kitchen and Nikki looks up with hopeful eyes, only to give me her worst death glare once she realizes I’m holding someone else’s order.

I give her a look that says to give me a second, I’ll get her food, and head to Noah’s table. I go over about a million catchy, flirty things to say. Things that maybe he’ll replay back to himself later tonight. But when I arrive at the table and he looks up and sees me, all that comes out is, “It’s been a while.”

He smiles and I want to knock myself unconscious with the plate.

I lower his food to the table. The exact omelet I watched him eat three months ago and a stack of pancakes. “I’ll go grab some syrup.”

“Why don’t you have a seat? Like you said, it’s been a while.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “I’m not sure why I said that. It’s not like you owe me anything.”

He laughs. “I kind of like that you missed me.” He uses his boot to kick out the chair opposite him. “Sit.”

“Mandi!” Nikki whisper-shouts my name as if she’s on the edge of sanity.

“I have a really demanding pregnant guest. Give me a minute.”

He nods. “Sure thing.”

Nikki says my name again and I raise my finger, heading into the kitchen.

Luckily, Nadia has Rachel all fixed up. “Thanks, Mandi.”

“You’re welcome. I need some muffins and fruit for Nikki out there.”

“Put in the order,” Francois says, not even bothering to look at me.

“I’m not putting in the order. She’s going to order something else for her meal. This is to tide her over.”

“I cannot prepare if I do not have the order. It would ruin inventory when I have to reorder. I know you like to run this place like your personal kitchen, but it cannot be done.”

I blow out a breath because I’ve been hearing the same thing from Francois over and over since I left the dishes in the sink three months ago and he knew I cooked in here late at night.

“Do you have any idea that you’re not the boss?” I ask.

“I am the boss of the kitchen.” He thumbs his chest.

“Stop using the fake French accent.” He straightens his back, but I shake my head and go out onto the floor once more, snagging a basket of muffins and one of the carafes of coffee on my way. I set them both on my sisters’ table. “Here.”

“I can’t drink coffee,” Nikki says.

Thankfully, Rachel approaches them right after me and takes their order.

I see that Noah is now on a phone call, so I take a breather in the lobby.

Chevelle joins me a minute later and rubs my arm. “What am I missing? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just overwhelmed. I mean, I’ve only met that guy once before.”

“And?” Chevelle’s face lights up as though she already knows what I’m going to tell her.

“It was literally one hour with him one night. Nothing big. We didn’t exchange numbers or anything. I think he’s kind of like a drifter or something.”

“So?”

“So what’s the point if nothing can happen long term?”

She scrunches up her face. “Mandi, who cares about the Noah thing? Nikki will get over it.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s because he travels so much for work.”

She sets her hands on her hips. “When is the last time you did something for yourself? You can have a fling. No one has to know, and if they do, who cares? You’re an adult.”

Chevelle and I are complete opposites.

“Because I don’t see the point in a fling that has no hope of ever becoming more.”

“The point? How about hot, amazing s*x. Three orgasms in a night. Imagine him coming back a few months apart. By the time you see him, you’d be climbing him like the tree he is. That man knows how to get a woman off, you can tell when you look at him.”

We both lean over the partition and look at him. He’s glancing around the restaurant and I hurriedly duck.

“I just don’t know. I’ve never done anything like that.” My voice sounds whiny and unsure.

“Live a little. Especially before you go and marry the perfect guy and have his perfect kids and live in that house with the white picket fence. It’ll all be there waiting for you when you’re ready. Go have fun.” She nudges me with her arm.

I frown. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am.”

“Go, I’ve got you covered here,” Trina says. “I need the extra hours anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods.

I inhale deeply. “Wish me luck.”

“With those pants and that ass, you don’t need luck.” Chevelle smacks my ass and my cheeks heat before I even get out there.

Then the door of the restaurant dings and a tall brunette with mile-long legs says excuse me and slides past me.

“Noah,” she says, waving, and I’m certain she’s not talking about my soon-to-be nephew. She kisses him on the cheek and sits down, pulling the pancake plate in front of her.

All my sisters gawk and stare before slowly turning to look at me.

I shuffle back to my spot at the front desk. “Trina, you’re done for the day.”

“But—”

I shake my head. “Really, go get some rest. I’ll see you this evening.”

I need to stop thinking with my heart and go with my gut.