Wrapped Up in Christmas Love (Wrapped Up in Christmas #4)

Chapter Nine

N ose curled, Sophie held up the pet-sized outfit. “You don’t seriously think Bobbin is going to wear this? Or that I’d let him?”

“I didn’t think you wore that shade of lipstick but was pleasantly surprised. You will be, too, when you see how dashing Bobbin is in camo.” Zach had known the kitty uniform would push Isabelle’s buttons.

That had been why he’d bought it. Yet, when she’d gone to open the bag, he’d wanted to stop her so as not to end the lightness they’d shared during his lesson.

“Besides, didn’t your mother teach you to say thank you when someone gives you a gift?”

“She taught me to be leery of gift-bearing men,” Isabelle shot back, then relented. “Thank you, though. It was very thoughtful of you, but Bobbin is not the kind of cat to wear clothes.”

She left her thank God off, but Zach heard it.

“You’re welcome, and you think he isn’t? I hate to break it to you, but during all that rubbing against my leg last night, he assured me he’d make a purrrfect soldier.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “Not that I’d put this on him, but if I tried, he’d either claw me to bits or poison my morning coffee.”

Zach grinned. “Surely he wouldn’t claw the hand that feeds him?”

“It’s bite the hand that feeds him, and if I put that on him, he’d never forgive me.”

“You’ve misjudged that poor cat. All this time, he’s been hoping for something camo. Can he help it if no one heeded his meowed pleas until he met me?”

Isabelle snorted. “Fine, O great cat whisperer, sign a release waiver, and I’ll let you try to put this on him.”

“Okay.” Because it meant spending more time with her and he wasn’t ready for their evening to end. “When we’re finished with my lesson, we’ll go by your place and enlist Bobbin. I need to see those photos of your dad, anyway.”

Isabelle’s face tightened. “You’re not enlisting my cat. Besides, Mom will be home.”

“It’s okay. She won’t think anything of us looking at the rest of the albums. She likes me.”

Isabelle placed the outfit on the counter, then gave him a skeptical look. “What makes you think that?”

“She told me. A dozen or so times when Cole and I helped her carry your Christmas totes in from the storage building out back.” He leaned against the counter, grinning at Isabelle’s head shake. Good. Maybe they could get back to relaxed. “Cole was a little jealous of how many times she said it, actually.”

“Cole knows Mom adores him. She tells him over and over, too, so don’t go thinking you’re something special. You’re not. She’s just not used to me bringing men home.”

Which made Zach feel special, even if he knew the real reasons why he’d been there.

“Why is that?”

Isabelle shrugged. “Mainly the shop and that I’ve not met anyone worth bringing home.”

“Then I’m glad you think I am.”

“You. Are. Pretend.” She tapped her finger against his chest with each word. “Remember?”

He placed his hand over hers, flattening her palm against his sternum and marveling at how her warm touch energized his pulse. “I don’t feel real? You’re sure about that?”

She jerked away, shaking her hand as if something clung to it. “You knew what I meant. We are pretend. You and me, not real. Fake news.”

“That’s right. How could I forget with you reminding me so often?”

“Well, you behave as if you keep forgetting.”

Because it was easy to forget that he wasn’t himself when Isabelle was around. Maybe he even wanted to forget. Too bad he couldn’t pick and choose what his mind retained. If he could, if he could be someone different, he’d point out that she once again stood beneath mistletoe. No doubt Sophie had hung it over the register counter because it didn’t seem something Isabelle would do.

“Be grateful I’m so immersed in the part I’m playing as your boyfriend.”

Wiping her hand on her jeans, she eyed him. “Yeah, well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no Emmy for this role, so it’s okay if you tone it down.”

She was right. He knew she was right. But for a while during his lesson, when they were laughing, when she was smiling at him, he’d not been thinking about anything except enjoying the moment.

“Yes, ma’am. Now, what I really want to know is how impressed were you with my sewing skills?”

Relief that he’d changed the subject brightened her face. “I’d rather not say.”

“I know I did good,” he teased. He’d had enough practice that he should do well.

“Then why ask? We both know you’ve been working with Sarah.”

Now was the perfect time to tell her that he already sewed, just had never quilted. But that opened a topic he’d rather not get into. He didn’t want Isabelle’s pity regarding why he’d had so much time to learn. That might undo him. So, instead, he said, “She’s extremely patient, but very busy.”

Relaxing more, Isabelle nodded. “She volunteers with the church all year, but especially at the holidays.”

“And Sophie does. How about you?”

“I volunteer.” Her chin lifted. “As a matter of fact, I’m volunteering this Saturday.”

“You’re closing the store on Shop Local Saturday?”

She laughed. “Don’t sound so incredulous. We do close from time to time. But, in this case, no, I’ll be working that morning until noon during our sale. After that, I’m helping with the kids’ activities at the Pine Hill On-the-Square Christmas Festival.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Then you should volunteer,” she challenged, giving him a pointed look.

“Okay.”

She frowned. “That was a rhetorical comment. Not a real invitation.”

“So, it was a fake invitation to your fake boyfriend? What’s with you and all these fake situations?” he teased.

“Odd how they all involve you.”

He chuckled. “Isn’t it, though? However, I was serious about volunteering. As long as I’m working with you, sign me up for wherever you think I’ll be most useful.”

“Remember you asked for this.”

Noting the gleam in her eyes, suspicion grew. “Did I just sign up for the pie-in-the-face booth or something?”

Zach didn’t know if Pine Hill had such a booth, but Isabelle’s laughter was worth ten pies in the face.

“You wish it was pies in the face.” She practically doubled over.

“Okay, spill it, Blondie. What torturous volunteer work are you enlisting me for?”

“Oh, nothing too strenuous. I mean, you only have to stand there with your eyes closed.”

“While you shoot sugar plums off my head with a bow and arrow?”

“Don’t tempt me, but that’s not it.” She drew out telling him another few seconds, obviously relishing every moment. “I’m in charge of this year’s kissing booth.”

Isabelle teasing him seemed so unlikely that even though his gut said that was what she was doing, Zach wasn’t sure. “Pine Hill has a kissing booth?”

“Oh, yes. We set it up down by the assisted living center.” She batted her lashes, then blew him a kiss. “I think this year’s is going to be extra successful. Don’t you?”

Zach gulped. Did she mean that she was signing him up to be kissed? Or that she was, possibly while wearing her new red lipstick that he kept having to drag his gaze from?

Either way, if she was serious, he’d prepurchase both of their entire time slots, because there was no way he was going to stand there while other men kissed her. That would be torture.

And the only person he wanted to kiss was Isabelle.

*

Hands laden with the numerous dishes Sarah had made to bring with them, Zach followed a similarly loaded down Bodie up the front steps of a well-kept, white-frame two-story home. Although he and Isabelle hadn’t directly discussed his coming to her Aunt Claudia’s for Thanksgiving dinner, the woman had invited him and called Sarah to insist that she not let Zach say no. Who was he to turn down what promised to be another amazing home-cooked meal?

“You’re going to regret not taking my advice to wear something with an elastic waistband.” Bodie pushed the front door open, letting Harry go in first. “Because you’re about to have the best meal of your life.”

His friend’s comment and the delicious aromas from the containers they held had Zach’s stomach growling.

“From now until Christmas”—Bodie made an mmm sound—“this town likes to show off. My guess is that the New Year’s resolution to start a diet originated in Pine Hill, thanks to the pounds packed on during the holidays.”

Bodie’s fit figure didn’t seem to be suffering too much from all the extra calories. His morning runs with Harry kept him fit. Glad for the physical release and determined to not lose the strength he’d worked so hard to regain after his extended hospital stay, Zach joined them. It wasn’t as if he didn’t wake before the sun, anyway. Old habits died hard.

“Hope you’re hungry.” Sarah came over to them with Jeannie in her arms. “Aunt Claudia will expect you to have at least two helpings.”

“As much as I taste-tested yesterday and today, I’m not sure about a second plate, especially since I’m wearing Bodie’s shirt. It’s already a little snug, but I’m looking forward to the first plate.”

Having suggested he dress up a little from his usual T-shirt, Sarah had loaned him another of Bodie’s dress shirts. He’d only planned to stay in Pine Hill a week and then to go to the beach. Dress clothes hadn’t been on the agenda, but he should probably buy a few things since his plans had changed.

“Thanks for helping Bodie and me.” Sarah smiled. “You make a great assistant baker.”

“It was the least I could do after you put my fears about Pine Hill having a kissing booth to rest.” Plus, he enjoyed hanging with his friends and seeing how normal their lives were. Zach hadn’t felt normal or seen it in years. Pine Hill was broadening his horizon. “Hopefully, I didn’t demolish too many of those chocolate no-bakes you made.”

“Isabelle teasing you like that was great.” Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “And between you and Bodie enjoying them so much, I decided to leave what was left of the cookies at home. They’re in the Santa jar on the kitchen counter.”

Zach would have high-fived his friend if they weren’t carrying the containers.

“Sarah, Bodie, Zach,” Isabelle’s Aunt Claudia greeted them. With her salt-and-pepper hair pulled into a bun, red dress and ruffled white apron, she looked exactly how Zach imagined Mrs. Claus would. “It’s good to see you, but this little sweetie is who I want to love on before that baby-hogger Maybelle realizes y’all are here.”

Sarah handed Jeannie to the woman, who immediately showered the baby with kisses and sweet talk. “Let’s go brag to the others that I got to hold you first.”

“Don’t you go stirring up Butterfly trouble on Thanksgiving,” Bodie warned in his sheriff’s deputy tone.

Claudia giggled. “Well, you and I both know it’s those other Butterflies that you have to watch out for. I’m the innocent one who gets dragged along on their shenanigans whenever George and I are home from one of our trips. Have I mentioned that we’re going to the Amalfi Coast this spring? I sure do love to travel.”

Smiling, Sarah and Bodie exchanged looks.

“Come on, Zach.” Bodie gestured toward their right. “Let’s put these in the kitchen.”

“Tell the girls I’ll be there in a minute. Everything’s mostly done, but they’re keeping an eye on the rolls while they finish.” Claudia pressed more kisses to Jeannie’s chubby cheek. “I’m going to relish holding this one a minute as I likely won’t get another opportunity while Sarah and I talk about my trip.”

Zach followed Bodie into the kitchen. Sophie stood at a kitchen island and was removing the lid from a dish. Seeing him, she smiled. Back to him, Isabelle peered into the oven.

“The rolls are almost done, Aunt Claudia.” She turned, saw him, and took a deep breath. “You’re not Aunt Claudia.”

Zach found an open spot on the packed counter and set the containers down. “Nope. Happy Thanksgiving, Isabelle. You, too, Sophie.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. Thanks. You, too.” Sophie took Bodie’s containers and placed them on the counter. “Zach, would you mind keeping my sister company while I take Bodie to talk with Cole? We’re thinking about knocking out a wall to make two small upstairs bedrooms into one larger room. Bodie is our go-to guy for handyman advice.”

Not waiting for an answer, Sophie hooked her arm with Bodie’s, then led him out of the kitchen, leaving Zach alone with Isabelle.

“Your sister is about as subtle as a locomotive.”

With another glance into the oven first, Isabelle popped the tops on the containers he’d carried. “Sarah’s been busy.”

“She’s cooked nonstop for the past two days.” He glanced around at the island and kitchen countertops packed with a multitude of dishes and tried not to think about what his mother’s kitchen counter looked like. Had she hired the same catering company she’d always used or had Brett’s wife placed the order to make sure all the traditional dishes were covered? No matter the outlandish cost, the spread wouldn’t compare to the one before him. A twinge hit that he wished they were there to share in this feast, that they’d be a part of the happy, noisy activities, rather than the sedate, formal meal. Then again, he couldn’t imagine that they’d have the same appreciation for the mismatched made-with-love ensemble that he did.

Eyeing him, Isabelle leaned against the counter. “I figured you’d be here tonight.”

“But had hoped I wouldn’t?” he countered. Maybe he shouldn’t be. Maybe he had no right to intrude on this happy affair. Not that he belonged with his family, either. He’d never fit there. He’d never fit anywhere other than in the army.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But thought it?”

She shrugged. “Not really.”

“What?” He eyed her. “You calling a truce tonight?”

“It’s Thanksgiving. I didn’t want our star kissing booth volunteer left at Hamilton House alone.”

Alone. Being alone had never bothered him, but rolling off Isabelle’s tongue, the word felt heavy and something to be dreaded.

“Then I’ll count my blessings that I’m here instead.” He didn’t consider himself a religious man, but being with Isabelle and her family was a blessing.

A small smile played on her lips. “It’s the holiday for doing just that.”

“Not wearing your lipstick tonight, Blondie?”

She looked sheepish. “I told you the other night that red lipstick was Sophie’s.”

“And I’m sticking to what I said,” he reminded, his gaze dropping to her naturally pink lips. “That I don’t believe Sophie wrestled you to the quilt shop floor and painted your lips the prettiest shade of red.”

Isabelle put her palm to her forehead. “I knew better.”

Dragging his gaze from her mouth, he arched his brow. “But did it, anyway? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“There’re a lot of things that don’t sound like me when I’m around you.”

That she admitted as much didn’t sound like her, either. Had she missed him as much as he’d missed seeing her the past few days?

“Has Bobbin worn his outfit yet?” Why he longed to hear her say that she’d put the tiny uniform on the cat made no sense, but he held his breath while he waited.

“No.” She gave him a duh look. “It was no coincidence that he wasn’t at the house when we got there that night.”

Zach made his expression one of suspicion. “Unless you texted a warning, I’d say it was exactly a coincidence.”

Her eyes twinkled. “He’s a smart cat.”

“He could be a fashionable cat if you’d just let him.”

Isabelle’s nose curled. “That’s a matter of opinion. You’re trying to make my cat dress like you.”

Zach’s lips twitched. “Are you saying that I have bad taste in clothes?”

She raked her gaze over his slightly tight through the shoulders shirt. “Let’s just say that I don’t think you should plan to take up fashion as a new career.”

He rubbed his chin, then shrugged. “I guess I’m stuck with my fake boyfriend job.”

Her forehead creased. “You plan to do this again?”

“Nope. You’re my one and only.” Realizing what he’d said, Zach added, “Fake girlfriend, that is.”

Her gaze connected with his. “I’m glad.”

Air lodged in Zach’s throat. “Because?”

She hesitated long enough that whatever her response, it wasn’t what originally popped into her head.

“I’d think it obvious,” she finally said, crossing her arms across her chest. “If you have to trade out being a fake boyfriend for another sewing lesson, then it means I did a terrible job teaching you. I’m not much on being a failure. Speaking of failures, did the photos help?”

On the night of his lesson, afterward, when they’d gotten to her house, he’d stealthily snapped pictures of several photos of her dad while she’d kept her mother occupied in the kitchen under the guise of making hot cocoa.

“They will. I’ve run them through a few of iSecure’s aging programs and uploaded the originals and aged ones into the company’s face recognition program. It’ll take a while, but the program will search out possibilities. Then, I’ll follow up on those leads, along with the ones I got on his Social Security number.”

She bit into her lower lip. “For Sophie’s sake, I hope you come up with something soon.”

For Isabelle’s sake, Zach hoped so, too.

“Now, let’s talk about my being the star of the kissing booth this weekend. As Sarah cleared up that there was no kissing booth, what I want to know is if you were planning to start a private one, just so you’d have an excuse to kiss me?”

Isabelle’s face went as red as the lipstick he’d been teasing her about. “She shouldn’t have told you.”

He arched a brow. “And let me continue to think I would be kissing grannies for ten bucks a smackeroo?”

“For someone who claims to be great at figuring things out, you shouldn’t have needed Sarah’s clarification on that one.” Her hands went to her hips. “Besides, you deserved to be taught a lesson about volunteering for things without knowing what you’re getting into.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to being given orders without knowing what I’m getting into. At least, I was.”

Her expression became pensive, and she surprised him yet again by asking, “You miss being a soldier?”

“I’ll be a soldier until I take my last breath, Blondie.” His stomach grumbled and, determined not to fall down a dark hole, Zach picked up a piece of ham.

Isabelle slapped his hand. “Stop that. We haven’t said prayers yet.”

“Then someone better get to praying because I’m ready to eat.”

*

“Is that a third helping of banana pudding?” Isabelle asked when Zach returned to the card table that was one of many scattered around her Aunt Claudia’s house to accommodate the thirty-plus dinner guests. Family and friends filled every nook and cranny and laughter sounded frequently.

Zach grinned. “Will you tell me no more if I say yes?”

She shook her head. “I’m not your mother.”

“No, but this reminds me of my grandmother’s. I’d not thought of it in years, but this has the same topping.” His lips wrapped around his spoon.

“Meringue,” she said, clarifying further at his blank look. “The topping. It’s called meringue. It’s how my Grandma Belle made hers, and none of us would ever dare make ours any other way.”

Zach’s gaze met hers. “You made this?”

Embarrassment warmed her face. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. I can follow directions on a recipe card just as well as the next person.”

The gold flecks in his eyes glittered with amusement. “Which is why we had to scrape a burnt layer off the rolls.”

Isabelle grimaced. “Don’t remind me. I blame you for distracting me.”

“Based upon the teasing already doled out”—Zach ate a bite of the sweet pudding—“I have a feeling you’re going to be reminded of our slipup for years to come.”

“Thanks for that.” She could feel his eyes on her, studying her.

“For the most part, you’ve looked relaxed tonight, Blondie. I like it.”

Ha. Looks were deceiving because ever since he’d asked his Because? earlier, she’d been an internal mess. That pesky voice that got her into trouble where Zach was concerned had answered in her mind that it was because she couldn’t stand the thought of him being someone else’s boyfriend, fake or real. She couldn’t explain that to herself, much less to him. Just as she couldn’t explain why she’d teased him with the kissing booth threat. Where had that even come from? Probably because of Sophie having put kissing into her mind with the lipstick talk.

“I relax,” she assured.

She’d certainly done so during his sewing lesson where he’d come off with the goofiest comments about his skills, and again when they’d shared hot cocoa with her mother, and even when he’d searched the yard to try to find Bobbin to dress the poor cat.

“Prove it,” he challenged. “Come to the On-the-Square Christmas Festival with me on Saturday night.”

“I’m working and so are you, remember?” At his questioning look, she clarified. “If you were serious about volunteering, then you’re helping me with kid activities.”

“I think I prefer the kissing booth.”

“You would,” she accused, but couldn’t help smiling.

“Our volunteer stint runs all afternoon and into the night?”

“No, but I’m also volunteering at the church booth. Mom and I are sharing a shift and we’ll be selling baked goodies.”

“Will there be any of this?” He took another bite and slowly pulled the spoon from his mouth. “If so, I’ll take the whole lot. Name your price.”

Pleased he liked the pudding, she shook her head. “No pudding, but there will be banana bread.”

He looked thoughtful. “That you made?”

“No. Sorry.” Why did she have the urge to offer to make pudding for him? “Sophie made the bread. She makes several varieties. They’re all great, but my favorite is her chocolate chips and pecan. It’s so good heated up with just a dab of butter.”

“Sounds good and that’s saying a lot with how full my belly is.” He smiled and put his spoon in his empty dessert dish. “Sarah has me helping with an early shift at the Quilts of Valor booth, but if you’ll save me one, I’ll pay for it when I’m done.”

Isabelle frowned. “You asked me to go with you to the festival after you’d already promised to help Sarah?”

“I wasn’t going to bail on Sarah, if that’s what you’re thinking. She signed me up for an hour. If you’d said yes, you could have hung out with me at the booth until I finished. I’d make sure you had a good time.”

A good time at the military-quilt booth? Not even Zach could pull that one off.

Isabelle picked up her glass of sweet tea and took a sip of the cool liquid. Placing the glass back on the table, she then wiped the condensation from her hands with her napkin. “No thank you, but you’ll likely see Sophie. She oversees the booth and spends most of the festival there since Cole’s tied up with being Santa in the parade.”

“You could give her a break so she can watch him in the parade,” he suggested.

“Not me, but someone will.” She didn’t like his expression and became even more annoyed when she felt the need to explain.

She wanted to scream for him to not look so judgmental that she wasn’t more like her sister and Sarah. They did their thing, and she did hers. There was nothing wrong with that. She could be, and was, an upstanding community member in all sorts of other ways.

“I’m volunteering at the church bake sale with Mom, remember?”

“I remember.” Apparently wanting another bite, he picked the spoon back up and scraped it around the bowl, managing to capture a little of the pudding clinging to the sides. “Will you get a break?”

“I… I’ll stay as long as I’m needed.”

“And will offer to stay all night if it serves as a way to avoid me because I just upset you by wanting you to come to the Quilts of Valor booth with me?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, both annoyed and impressed by his sharp mind.

He leaned close, whispering as if he needed to tell her something for her ears only. “Don’t look now, but we’re being watched, so smile.”

“Oh, goodie. I’m so thrilled.” She bared her teeth in a grimace-like smile. “For the record, we’ve been watched from the moment we stepped out of the kitchen together.”

His eyes twinkled. “I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed, what with the smoke billowing around us from the burnt rolls.”

“There wasn’t smoke. Well, not much,” she relented, fighting back a real smile. There had been smoke. Not tons, but enough that her eyes had watered when they’d rescued the rolls. “Besides, even if there had been enough to warrant Cole suiting up, it would have been difficult to miss Maybelle’s eagle eyes when you grabbed my hand during prayer.” His hand holding hers during that prayer had felt… nice. That had completely unsettled her to where she hadn’t been able to focus on the words her Uncle George spoke, thanking the Lord for their meal and for those who had prepared it, for their health, for family and friends, old and new.

“The man with Maybelle seems besotted. He’s who was with her the day at the park?”

“John?” Glad for the subject change, she nodded and looked at where John offered Maybelle his last bite of pie and, shaking her head, she patted his cheek. “He is. Apparently, she was the bee’s knees back during their teens and he’s crushed on her ever since.”

“That would be the Butterfly’s knees,” he teased, tilting his head expectantly until Isabelle smiled.

“You’d like John. He served in the Korean War.” Why was she telling him this? She liked John, liked that Maybelle had his company, but she never discussed his background, and yet, she was. “My cousin Morgan presented him with a Quilts of Valor quilt last year. She’s a nurse. You’ve not met her yet as she lives in California. They were planning to surprise everyone tonight, but unfortunately, they won’t arrive until late tomorrow night.”

Zach’s gaze flicked from Maybelle and John to Isabelle. “She’s married to Ruby’s grandson? The one who is Cole’s friend?”

“Yes. Morgan, along with her son, moved out west with Andrew after they married this summer. She’s working at a hospital not far from where they live. She and Greyson are happy.”

“Another person who escaped this town.”

“Morgan doesn’t really count. She didn’t grow up here, just visited for summers and holidays when we were younger. She grew up at whatever base her military parents were currently assigned to.”

His brow lifted. “For someone so anti-military, you sure have a lot of military in your family, Blondie.”

“I’m not anti-military. I’m very thankful for the military and the freedom it affords me, and not just because it’s the holiday to be grateful.” She was also grateful for the interruption when her phone buzzed. A shop employee’s name popped up.

“I’m so sorry, Isabelle,” Gwen said, sounding miserable when Isabelle answered the call. “I have a stomach bug and won’t be at work tomorrow. I’d have called earlier, but I kept thinking I had just overeaten and would be better. Instead, I just keep getting worse.”

“No worries. Just get better. We’ll make do.” Somehow. Isabelle hung up and slid her phone into her back pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Zach asked when he returned from tossing his paper bowl into the trash bin.

“Gwen called out of work tomorrow.” She sighed. “She’s not feeling well, so can’t help it, but it’ll make tomorrow more stressful. Black Friday is our busiest day of the year.”

Zach eyed her a moment, then suggested, “Put me to work in her place.”

“You?”

He nodded. “Why not?”

How was she supposed to focus if he was there? He’d be like a reindeer in an ornament shop. It would be total chaos.

“You don’t know anything about working at a quilt shop, Zach. Just because you have a knack for making quarter-inch seams doesn’t make you qualified to fill in at my shop.”

His gaze boring into hers, he asked, “You’d rather be shorthanded than to have me help you? Seriously?”

Did it make her terrible if she said yes?

“What business turns down free labor?”

Isabelle shook her head. “I wouldn’t let you work for free.”

“Zach is offering to work for free?” Sophie came to the table with a slice of chocolate pie. “Quick. Sign him up before he changes his mind.”

“What are you being signed up for?” Cole sat down next to Sophie. His plate held Maybelle’s pumpkin pie with a generous dollop of whipped cream and a helping of banana pudding. “Another kissing booth?”

Isabelle’s cheeks heated. “No. Gwen called out of work tomorrow—” she started, but Sophie interrupted, giving Zach one of her biggest smiles.

“And you offered to help us out? That is so sweet! Thank you, Zach. Our customers are going to love you.”

“No, they aren’t,” Isabelle corrected, frowning at her sister. “I told him no.”

Sophie gave her a confused look. “Why would you do that? Tomorrow is going to be crazy busy.” She turned to Zach. “We’d love to have your help. I’m sure Isabelle only said no because she didn’t want to take advantage of your relationship.”

Zach’s lips twitched as he glanced Isabelle’s way. “She’s worried I’ll be too much of a distraction, but I promise to keep her focused on the job at hand. Afterward, I’m all hers.”

Right. All hers. Isabelle sighed. Could a pretend girlfriend take advantage of her relationship with her pretend boyfriend? And if so, was that why her chest was all fluttery at the prospect of Zach being at the shop?