Strut the Mall (Love at Westbrook Mall #4)

29. Matriarchs

29

Matriarchs

During dinner, it became even more obvious why Zack enlisted a fake girlfriend to hold off his family.

Shelby’s mom got on me about modeling. “Are you hired by companies or posting to social media for free?”

“I’m…I have some regular clients,” I said.

“They pay well?”

“Auntie, you can’t ask people about money,” Zack chided.

His mom, Coral, leaned over her dinner plate and gave me a gleaming smile. “What about children? Do you plan on having any?”

My mouth hung open. Wasn’t Zack going to chime in on that one?

He glanced at me and shoveled some more food in his face. Apparently, he wanted an answer.

I pushed noodles around on my plate and shrugged. “Maybe, if I meet the right person.” That was probably what they wanted to hear, anyway. “We could try in five years.”

“Five?” His mom squawked.

“Why five?” Zack licked his lips. Those stupid, supple lips.

I curled my toes and looked at my plate. “Because I’m still at the height of my modeling career and getting pregnant would change my body. I need to make sure we’re financially set for the baby.”

The baby.

Not a baby.

My hypothetical baby with Zack. I rolled my shoulders, and my jacket stuck to my skin. Was I improvising for the family or actually planning our lives?

Shelby’s mom nodded. “Good business sense. Make money while you can.”

“I guess I would like to be more established,” he said.

With what? The warehouse gig? He already said he didn’t want the band to be a job, so what was his five-year plan?

I would’ve asked, but all I knew was in a few months, Zack and I would break up. Would he still want me to know any of his business? My throat tightened. The one thing he stopped his family from asking about was my finances. Better change the subject altogether.

“Shelby showed me the princess outfit you made,” I said. “It was gorgeous, better than anything we sell at Fancee’s. Did you ever think of being designers?”

“Oh no." Coral waved the thought away. “We only make clothes for special occasions. It’s too time-consuming.”

“Too expensive,” Shelby’s mom added.

I scooted closer to the table. “You could make a decent living off commissions, though. Dance troupes and cosplayers always need something. Custom wedding dresses often need alterations.”

“We could make one, down the road, if you modeled for us.” Coral gave me a wide smile.

“Yes,” May cheered. “I can add flowers.”

I could barely wheeze in acknowledgment. Were they serious? What could I possibly have done to win them over in five minutes when Zack and my own family spent all of high school ignoring my existence? I wasn’t the love of his life. I wasn’t even bridal. Casting agents said I wasn’t elegant enough. Maybe the Turners were desperate to expand. I couldn’t let them reel me into this, no matter how tempting it was to be…worth it.

Zack cleared his throat and held up a fried piece of meat. “What is this? Fish?”

“Yes. Too dry?” Shelby’s mom narrowed her eyes.

I crossed my ankles and forced myself back into the role of a semi-nice girlfriend. “No, it’s delicious.”

“It’s a family recipe. We’ll teach you.” Coral cleared her place setting. “I’ll get you some Tupperware to take it home.”

“Oh, no I don’t need it.”

“You can keep it at your place for Zack,” his aunt said.

“He eats a lot, but he’s a good boy,” Coral called on her way to the kitchen.

“A good man,” I corrected.

Everyone looked at me. I tried to maintain some semblance of cool confidence instead of crumpling into my outfit while Zack’s gaze burned into the side of my face.

His family grinned. Four sets of twinkling eyes spotlighted me—the perfect fake girlfriend.

“Oh brother,” Joon muttered.

Coral tutted. “Come on, kids. I have dessert for anyone who brings their clean plate.”

May scooted off her chair. “Okay. Don’t go while I’m gone.” She scurried into the kitchen after the grown-ups.

Her brother trailed behind. “Do I have to lick my plate?”

“No,” everyone answered.

I giggled and turned to Zack. “Is it always like this?”

“Yes,” he said. I loved the honesty and resignation.

He was used to strong women. He was used to chaos, to working hard and loving hard.

Was that what he wanted? Forever? With someone who threw lemon wedges?

Damn, I needed to get a grip.

After dinner, Zack walked me outside and shoveled the drive. So methodical. So motivated. A shiver danced through my spine as I waited for the car to warm up.

“So, how do you think it went?” I asked, worry threading my thoughts together.

“Good.” He stuck the shovel in the snow and wiped his sweaty forehead. His jacket stretched against thick muscles. “May didn’t want you to leave.”

“I know.” My chuckle broke out in wisps of steam, then faded to nothing. I toed the snow. “Is that a bad thing? You know, since you’ll break up with me in a couple months?”

“What?”

His harsh tone made me flinch.

Inside the house, the curtains rustled. Oh. He was afraid his family would hear about our scheme. I gave them an awkward wave in case they were still watching.

Zack frowned. “Why would I break up with you?”

Because we were fake dating? Because he didn’t actually like me?

“If anything, you’d break up with me,” he declared.

I narrowed my eyes. Was he serious or was this part of some weirdo show for his family? “Why would that be?” I asked.

He drew his shoulders up to his reddened ears. “I don’t know. My insanely overbearing family.”

I shrugged. “They’re actually kind of sweet.”

“Until you want to go against their plans,” he said, but I could read between the lines. I wasn’t supposed to stick around long enough to have conflict with any of them. “Plus, you’re out of my league,” he said.

I scoffed and crossed my arms. “Okay, Mr. Quarterback.”

He stormed closer. “You’re a model in a luxury apartment. I’m a bouncer and warehouse grunt who shovels driveways and lives in his parents’ basement.”

I arched my brow. “So what? My last boyfriend was a wannabe deejay at Armando and Hitch.”

“Yeah, but he had the clothes and the hair.” He shuffled a hand through his uneven buzz cut to make it even more endearingly ridiculous.

“He also had a side piece,” I said.

His hot stare thawed my frozen fingers. My heart thumped, urging me closer.

“Maybe I want someone more down-to-earth,” I said, smoothing tufts of his hair. “Maybe I always have. I just never thought they were interested.”

His gaze flicked to my lips, and steam slipped through his.

Part of me wanted to wrap my arms around his meaty shoulders and kiss him senseless. The other part was desperate for him to be the one to cross this line into a physical aspect of this relationship. Well, fake relationship.

He glanced at the window, and the moment passed. His family. Yeah. This was all for them.

“I don’t know what I’m talking about.” I forced a laugh and looked away. “We can’t even agree if we’re compatible. I’ll just see you at work. Bye, Zack.” I reached for the car door, and so did he. Our hands clasped in the cold.

Of course he wanted to open it for me.

“I’ve got it,” I said, yanking the door open.

“Well, I’ve got you,” he said, and wrapped his arm around my waist.

“A real gentleman would—”

Before I could finish the thought, he yanked me flush against him and kissed me hard.

The shock punched through my chest with the decisive click of a sensor gun. Warmth flared against my back and coated my insides. Zack. Kiss. There wasn’t any tongue, just bold, fuck-worthy intention of lip movement.

Two seconds later, he pulled away. I swayed, my lips tingling from the stimulation.

His strong arms flexed around my waist. “Sorry, Nic. Guess I’m not much of a gentleman.”

Well, I wasn’t much of a lady, based on how much I wanted to tangle tongues. Even his chaste kiss had rendered me as mute as a mannequin. What prompted him to do this?

A breeze wafted against the curtains. Was that PDA for his family’s benefit?

“Okay,” I squeaked.

He drew back, hunched his shoulders, and stormed inside, wiping his fist across his lips.

Did he…wipe away our kiss?

I drove home on autopilot. My mouth tingled more than when I’d tried lip-plumping gloss. Everything from high school orientation to our goodbye flew through my brain. This was supposed to be a game. A play. I was supposed to be in on it. So, why was my heart raging like we’d actually formed a relationship?

He’d said he didn’t want something real. But that kiss… It must’ve been the heat of the moment, something to compensate for our semi-argument in front of his family. He must’ve gone from seeing me as the shy, nothing-girl to the vain, materialistic model who got into bar fights over men. Maybe I’d unintentionally made that my brand. But I was so much more than that.

I tightened my grip on my phone as I powered into my place.

My brand was fun, wasn’t it? I could be a bright part of someone’s day. His, even. I posted my outfit, the snow, and the cringe-worthy singing video with dry humor captions. The hearts and laugh emojis flooded in. Positive nothingness. My fingers shook every time my notifications went off. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t even going to check in?

I guessed I could distract myself with clients. Nyx was fine, though. She didn’t need a rebrand. I uploaded a clip of my bare feet dancing to a classic rock song and captioned it: Who wants the next dance?

A message hit my inbox.

Anon3000: Wish I could be there with you, baby

I sighed. How was it that the term of endearment from my real ex-boyfriend seemed less affectionate than Zack calling me 'Nic?'

My phone pinged. Could it be him?

I swiped to open the message, and he was on the thread.

Shelby: EXCUSE ME you had dinner with the whole fam and didn’t invite me?! Rude! :P I demand a double date (please) ASAP!!!! [sparkly heart emoji]

Well, damn. Everybody in his family seemed keen on welcoming me. They were nice. Loud. Friendly.

Of course, his family’s affection would end when our ‘romantic’ relationship did. If he found out about my foot-modeling career, it might end even quicker. But there was no point going down that road. These warm and fuzzy feelings were more fake than a purse sale on a sidewalk. I just had to get through the next couple dates without falling in love with him. No problem.

I sent a heart emoji back and hoped my real one wouldn’t get broken.