“If your grandmother really is sick, and we can make her last days happy by pretending to get married, I’d say it’s worth it.”

“Pretending to get married? Are you suggesting we lie to her?”

Matt shrugged impatiently, the simple gesture making her feel she was being unreasonable. “Does it matter? If I have a choice between lying to her and making her miserable, I’ll go with the lie. What harm could it do?”

Joanna stared at him, almost unable to believe he was really suggesting this. The idea was preposterous. It was out of the question.

She was still working on getting over Matt. Marrying him wouldn’t help the healing process.

Hannah Bernard always knew what she wanted to be when she grew up—a psychologist. After spending an eternity in university studying toward that goal, she took one look at her hard-earned diploma and thought, “Nah. I’d rather be a writer.” She has no kids to brag about, no pets to complain about and only one husband, who any day now will break down and agree to adopt a kitten.

Books by Hannah Bernard

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3762—BABY CHASE

3774—THEIR ACCIDENTAL BABY

3792—MISSION: MARRIAGE

The Honeymoon Proposal

Hannah Bernard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

PROLOGUE

WAS it a law that the phone absolutely had to ring a few minutes after Grandma had closed her bedroom door to take a nap? Joanna lunged for the receiver, managing to snatch it up after only two rings had blared through the house. “Hello?”

“Hello, Jo.”

Matt.

Joanna’s hand clenched around the phone and she almost hung up. She’d somehow avoided him for three days—and now he’d managed to reach her at her grandmother’s house.

But Grandma was his godmother after all, it was only natural for him to be calling here.

“Hello. One moment, I’ll get Grandma.”

“Wait! I’m calling to talk to you.”

Dammit. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, concentrating on keeping her voice level and calm. “I see. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t, but it was worth a try. You’re not answering your home phone, or your cell phone or your e-mail. I was running out of options.”

Jo gritted her teeth. “If Grandma had caller ID we wouldn’t be talking.”

“Believe me, Jo. I know. I was the one your neighbors threatened to call the cops on yesterday, remember?”

Joanna grinned without pleasure and headed toward the kitchen in order to get even further away from her grandmother’s bedroom. Grandma didn’t need to hear this, even if it would never escalate into a shouting match. Jo was too civilized for shouting matches. Nope, no screaming, just cool and calm conversation, icicles dripping off every word she said. “Your father called security on me at work, why shouldn’t my neighbors call the cops on you?”

A tiny sound shimmered through the line, and her nervous brain translated it into a click. Her gaze flashed in the direction of her grandmother’s bedroom. Could she have picked up the extension?

“Jo, you’re not even giving me a chance,” Matt continued, the same impatient irritation in his voice as before. He didn’t get it, did he? He didn’t have a clue about what this mess had done to her life. “Do you have any idea what I’m dealing with here? I have my hands full with the board, with the investigation, with finding out what really happened and how you got involved. It didn’t help when you stormed out, and now you’re saying we’re over and refusing to talk to me—”

“Ssshhh!” she hissed, suspicion blooming and even diverting her attention from the barb of how you got involved. There had been a click on the line. She was sure of it. “Shut up. Wait.”

“What?”

“Sssssh!”

Covering the speaker with her hand, Jo tiptoed upstairs to her grandmother’s room and listened. There was no sound. She slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. The drapes were pulled and the room was darkened, but she could make out the shape of Grandma in her bed, turned away from her with a blanket up to her neck. She stood still for a few moments, but the old lady didn’t move. The phone was within her reach, so she might have picked up and put it back down again—was the cord swaying?

No. Or if it was, it had to be a draft from the window. Grandma wasn’t the type to hide her interference, anyway. If she’d heard anything, she’d have come right out and demanded to know what was going on.

Jo pulled the door quietly shut, relieved that Grandma hadn’t been listening in. She wasn’t ready for Grandma to know she’d broken up with Matt. Grandma would ask questions. She’d probe and poke in wounds that hadn’t healed yet, and she would meddle.

Grandma would have to be told, of course, but not right now. In a few days, when she was more composed over the whole thing, Jo would tell her. Now wasn’t the right time.

“Jo?” Matt was saying when she raised the phone back to her ear. “What’s wrong?”

She hurried back downstairs to the kitchen before speaking again. “Nothing.”

“How are you doing, Jo?”

The question almost made her anger spill over, but with the self-restraint of a lifetime of practice she managed to contain it and keep her voice as calm and as chilly as a snowman’s nose. “How am I doing? You mean, apart from the fact that you ruined my life?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” he said impatiently. “You’re overreacting.”

“I’m overreacting? I’m being melodramatic? I lost my job, had security invade my office and to top it all off, my…” Her what? What had Matt been to her? “My lover,” she ended up saying with a sardonic twist in her voice, “doesn’t even believe in me. And you’re surprised I want you out of my life?”

“I do believe in you…” Matt broke off and swore. “Why can’t you trust me? Look—I’ll come over tonight and we’ll talk. Will you please let me in this time?”

He was trying to use charm on her. It wouldn’t work. Not now, when she knew the truth about what he felt for her—when she knew he’d rather have her accused of a crime than admit they were a couple. But she wouldn’t bring that up now—bruised pride wasn’t the most comfortable emotion to have trampled on. “We’ve had this conversation before, Matt. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not interested in having a fight.”

“You never are. Maybe that’s the problem. We need to have a real fight.”

“We don’t need anything. There is no we. If there ever was a we, we’re over. Don’t call me again. Bye.”

Matt cursed and his voice rose. “No way. This is not over, Jo—”

She didn’t hear another word, because the phone was firmly back in its cradle and her back was turned to it.

CHAPTER ONE

Five weeks later

SHE would have to see him again.

Joanna twined together curses in the most creative manner she could think of as she yanked the cordless phone off its stand and strode to the living room, to the security of the sofa, complete with an old scruffy blanket in case she needed additional comfort.

Seeing Matt again. The thought almost managed to nudge the burning worry about Grandma from her mind. Almost.

She sank into the sofa, and pulled her knees to her chest, clutching the phone in one hand. She reached for the ancient comforter lying across the back of the sofa and pulled it over her shoulders, huddling under it, suddenly feeling cold. A painful pounding in her temples had started as soon as her grandmother had made the request. She wasn’t surprised. If ever there was an occasion to get a migraine headache, this was it.

She stared at the phone in her hand, amazed that her fingers weren’t trembling. She would have to call Matt, and ask him to come over.

This was not a phone call she wanted to make. He was not a man she wanted to see again. Too much had happened, and after only five weeks the hurt and anger hadn’t even begun to fade.

But she had no choice. Grandma did want to see him. And he was her godson, her late husband’s nephew, probably her favorite person in the world.

Of course she would call him. There was no question. For Grandma, she would, even if her own personal preference was to replace that two-minute phone call with a whole afternoon of root canals. Or a casual stroll across hot coals. Or two full hours of public speaking. Or…

She gritted her teeth, realizing she was procrastinating.

She’d do it now. Right this minute while shock was still running her emotions, or courage would leap out the window into the early-evening dusk and never return. This wasn’t a big deal. It was absurd to find her heart racing in anticipation of hearing his voice again.

It was over. She was over him. “It’s over,” she muttered to herself, and it almost became the truth when she heard her own voice say the words. It was over.

She took a deep breath, and with eyes half-closed, made the call.

It was a melancholic—and annoying—discovery that she still knew his number by heart. Five long weeks had passed, but her fingers still punched the series of numbers as easily as they’d ever done. As easily as they’d done when this was the number she called just to hear his voice, when the warmth of him, the heat of his feelings for her, had seemed to reach her through the phone lines no matter what the distance was between them.

Now he was a stranger, the distance internal, emotional instead of geographical, but even more real. She needed to remember that, even as her mind recalled the way his voice used to alter the moment he heard hers, from the distracted, hurried voice of a busy businessman to the warm, loving one a man reserved for his woman.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the phone hard against her ear. It was over, she repeated to herself. Now he was nothing to her, just her grandmother’s godson, a friend of the family. That was all!

Still, she was just about to lose her nerve and end the call when he picked up the phone. The sound of his voice caused her heart to halt in her chest as truth grabbed her by the nose and forced her to face reality.

Over him? Hah!

Nope, she wasn’t over him.

Not even close.

She’d almost managed to convince herself she was, but that was because she hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard from him. Grandma had his picture on the mantelpiece, between her pictures of Grandpa and of Jo herself, but Jo had managed to tilt it ever so slightly, so his laughing green eyes didn’t mock her every time she stepped into that room.

But now his voice was in her ear, and her entire system was going crazy.

His voice sounded the same. Brisk, slightly absent, hurried, impatient when he had to repeat the hello because she didn’t respond right away, her voice having tightened and her breath hitched. She cursed herself for letting him affect her that way. It had only been a few weeks, she reminded herself. Time would fix this. Broken hearts did heal. Didn’t they?

Maybe seeing him again now, seeing him as a stranger, not hers, would be the jolt she needed. Yes. Maybe.

It could happen, right?

“Matt…I…Matt…” she croaked, then bit her lip hard. That was not what she’d meant to say. She’d meant to be cool and distant and formal, call him Matthew instead of Matt, and inform him of the situation, detached and matter-of-fact.

She closed her eyes. Instead she’d whispered his name as a reverent mantra, just as she’d done when…

No. Those memories belonged in the compost section of her brain. She didn’t want to remember. She didn’t want to remember anything of their months together, especially not the warmth of his shoulder under her lips, the surprised smile he sent her when she kissed him unexpectedly, or those mornings at his apartment, the way he’d used the extra ten minutes the snooze button gave him to wrap his arms around her and hold on tightly, whispering into her ear that it would have to last him through the entire day with her all the way on the other side of the office.

Ouch. She yanked on the short hair at her temple to punish herself. That compost heap was active today.

Maybe she should just hang up, and hope he wouldn’t know who was calling. She could get someone else to phone Matt. Grandma still had enough strength to lift a phone after all, she could probably make the call herself.

Matt’s voice changed, grew louder, as if he’d gripped the phone and pressed it closer to his face. “Hello? Jo? Joanna? Is that you?”

Joanna grimaced as she mentally crossed hanging up anonymously off her list of options. He recognized her voice. She should have expected no less, but it was still a shock to hear her name on his lips, his tone surprised and incredulous.

Not angry, but slightly wary. It had been angry before. Not at first: then, there had been only surprise, annoyance and irritation, and a whole lot of brisk efficiency as he worked to smooth things over, to get her out of the way, to hush up the issue instead of coming to her rescue. The anger hadn’t come until she’d told him it was over, that she couldn’t keep seeing someone who didn’t trust her, someone who wouldn’t stand up and admit to their relationship even when it could clear her of a crime. If you believed in me, you would stand by me, she’d told him, the pain in her heart emerging as fury disguised in cold dismissal.

Of course, what she’d really meant was that if he’d loved her, he’d have stood by her, just as she’d kept silent about their involvement until he got back—for his sake. The CEO shouldn’t be involved with one of his employees, and she wouldn’t expose him without his agreement—even though it had cost her both her job and the friendships she’d forged there.

She hadn’t minded at the time, in the certainty that he’d clear things up when he got back. If he’d trusted her—if he’d loved her, he would have.

The point was moot, of course—he’d done neither.

But this wasn’t about them. This was about Grandma.

“Jo?” Matt repeated, his voice growing impatient. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

She clenched her hand around the phone and cleared her throat. “Yes. It’s me. Hello, Matthew. I’m calling because…It’s my grandmother. I’m at her house now, I’ve been staying a few days—well, almost two weeks. She hasn’t been well lately. She wants to see you. She says she…” She paused to swallow the lump in her throat, but nevertheless the words were nothing more than a croak, betraying the tears gathering in her eyes. “Matt—she’s probably just being overdramatic, you know what she’s like sometimes, but…she says she needs to see you before she dies.”

There was silence only for a second. “I’ll be there ASAP,” he said curtly, and hung up without a goodbye.

Left with a dial tone, Jo let her hand fall to her side and pried her fingers away from the phone. She took a deep breath, not knowing if she felt relief at having this over with or panic at knowing he was on his way. Snap out of it, she ordered herself and made her way toward the guest room where her grandmother was resting. Grandma had asked to see Matt. That was the only thing that mattered.

“Is he coming?” her grandmother asked, her blue eyes just as bright and alive now as they’d ever been. She was propped up on some pillows, looking tiny in the large canopy bed, a Walkman with an audio book lying on her lap, the headphones incongruous around her narrow neck. Crossword puzzle books were heaped on the nightstand. Grandma worked hard at keeping her mind active, and she succeeded.

Unfortunately, the body was no longer cooperating. Grandma, who always took pride in getting up early, looking her best at all times and keeping herself busy throughout the day, hadn’t felt well enough to get dressed in more than a robe and slippers for a couple of weeks now. Jo had arrived for a visit almost two weeks ago, and hadn’t left since, except to go to work.

“Yes, Grandma. He’s on his way,” Jo confirmed as she sat down in her usual spot at the foot of the bed. “He said he’d be here soon.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Of course, he might not be here until tomorrow. He hung up so quickly, I didn’t get a chance to ask him about his definition of ASAP.” She grimaced. “Nothing new there.”

Her grandmother smiled. “I know. He works too hard, Jo. You’ll have to change that. A man doesn’t always realize the importance of spending time with his woman. Not until it’s too late. Hasn’t it been a while since you saw him last yourself?”

“Matt’s very busy,” Jo evaded, forcing a smile to her face. “But he’s on his way. You know he always makes time for his favorite old crone.”

As expected, Grandma chortled at the old joke. “Well, I hate to bother him, but I need to see that boy.” Her eyes narrowed on Joanna’s face. “There are things we need to discuss. I need to talk to him about the way he intends to treat my granddaughter for the rest of his life. I have a few ground rules. Such as spending at least some of his weekends with his woman—something he hasn’t been doing recently, has he? You didn’t leave the house all weekend and he didn’t come to see you at all.”

Joanna looked down on the bedspread, trying to hide her expression. Her omission of truth was coming back to haunt her. She still hadn’t figured out how to wriggle out of this one. “Grandma, Matt’s been very busy recently. I accept that, just as he accepts it when I’m busy. That’s life. He doesn’t need ground rules. We’re both quite happy with the way things are.”

“I’m not leaving this world without discussing you with him. You two are spending your lives together, and I have some hints and tips. I lived thirty-seven years with your grandfather, you know.” She patted Joanna’s hand. “In fact, I have plenty of tips for you on how to tame bad-tempered men.”

“Matt isn’t bad-tempered,” Jo said, shocked to find a small smile pull at her lips. “He’s stubborn and always tends to think he’s right, but he doesn’t have a bad temper.”

“He has a strong control of his temper, but he also has strong emotions,” Grandma muttered. “A roaring lion when it comes to protecting his woman, just you wait and see.”

Protecting his woman. Jo’s smile faltered. That was one thing Matt hadn’t done, and the truth of it was a constant sting somewhere inside. Grandma was right—Matt would stop at nothing to protect his woman. It all went to show she’d never been his. Not in the way that really counted.

“The most important thing is always to make time for just the two of you,” Grandma whispered, as if sharing the deepest confidence. “Arrange baby-sitting, and make sure you have regular quality time together.”

“Baby-sitting?”

“I know I’m getting ahead of myself here, you probably want an engagement and a wedding before the babies—and I don’t disagree, but I don’t have much time to impart all my hard-earned wisdom, so there you are.”

“You have plenty of time,” Joanna said firmly, trying to keep her fear from showing. Her grandmother was convinced death was on the other side of each breath. The doctor just shrugged. At her age, anything was certainly possible, he’d said, but there was nothing immediately terminal in her condition. However, he had confided in Jo, in his experience, people often sensed these things.

And Grandma’s conviction was contagious. Even now, she just smiled indulgently at Joanna’s objection. “No, I don’t, girlie. I don’t mind, and I hope you don’t plan on spending too much time grieving for me. I’m sure the other side is more fun. I’ll hold a spot for you and Matt.”

“We still need you on this side, Grandma. Don’t even think about opening that door.”

“I’m not. Not until I’ve talked to my Matt. Is the house clean?”

Joanna felt her frown crumble into a reluctant smile. Sometimes her grandmother’s mind was very predictable. “Yes, Grandma. The house is clean. We have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Good. We don’t want Matt to think we’re slobs, do we?”

“He won’t.”

Her grandmother sighed, and laid her head back against the pillow. “I’m so useless these days,” she muttered. “I need a nap again. You’ll bring Matt here the minute he arrives, Joanna, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Joanna kissed her grandmother’s cheek and stood up. “You just ring the bell if you need anything.”

Grandma muttered something, already half asleep. Jo made sure the bell was within reach and tiptoed out of the room.

She was tired. Her grandmother wasn’t a lot of work. She could take care of her own basic needs, and only required Joanna to provide food and company, but her constant talk of dying was draining. And there wasn’t anyone else to help. Her mother and father were somewhere in Africa shooting one of their documentaries.

Joanna ambled into the kitchen and started cleaning up. Grandmother was probably worried that Matt might think she wasn’t perfect housewife material, she thought wryly. She was funny that way. With all her insistence that her only grandchild go to college and get a good education, she nevertheless expected her to choose a career as a wife and mother as soon as she found a husband.

She wished again she’d asked Matt when he was likely to be here. With his busy existence, ASAP could mean anything from minutes to weeks.

After making sure everything was up to her grandmother’s standard, Joanna hung around in the kitchen and living room, the two rooms facing the front of the house. She was hoping to catch Matt before he rang the doorbell and woke the old woman up. There were things he needed to know. She needed to talk to him before he talked to his godmother, explain why Grandma still didn’t know.

Long before she had realistically expected him, his car was stopping in the driveway, headlights beating their way through the rain. Joanna’s heart started pounding and she felt her palms dampen as she clenched her fists at her sides. He still had the same car. Of course, she should have expected it—it wasn’t much over a month since she’d sat in that car herself, but somehow she’d expected things to change as much as her life had changed.

She stood in the shadow of the curtains by the window and watched him step out of the car. He glanced up at her grandmother’s bedroom window as he slammed the door shut and strode toward the front door. He looked grim and tired.

Joanna opened the door, the darkness of the unlit foyer giving her some protection at least, and sent him a smile that was supposed to be cool and sophisticated, but somehow ended up wobbly and fake instead. Matt didn’t smile, and she found herself missing the grin he’d usually greeted her with. He nodded curtly as he entered the house, his eyes raking over her once from the top of her head to her toes and back up.

“Hello, Jo,” he said, unsmiling, and she stepped back, the shock of being so close to him again confusing her senses and making her head spin. The warmth of him almost seemed to reach out toward her and despite everything that had happened, the instinctive longing to step into his arms and feel them close around her was almost uncontrollable.

It was also hateful.

He hadn’t changed since she’d seen him last. The dark hair, now glinting with raindrops, was the same. The green of his eyes was still hypnotizing, even when filled with fatigue and wariness instead of love and humor.

Of course he hadn’t changed, she castigated herself. People didn’t change in just a few weeks. Not unless some life-altering event happened to them, something that took their life, their existence, and turned it upside down.

Obviously, no such thing had happened to him.

Matt switched on the light and stared at her, his expression changing from serious to astonished. “You’ve changed, Jo.” He took a deep breath and reached out toward her, only snatching his hand back when it was inches away from touching her hair. “What the hell did you do to your hair?”

He sounded furious. Joanna rubbed her temple self-consciously. Her hair was rather short now. In fact, Matt’s hair was probably longer. She’d gotten carried away. So had her hairdresser, taking her cry of “I just want it gone!” a bit too seriously.

Matt’s obsession with her hair was the reason she’d cut it, she knew that now that she was finally out of the denial stage…but leaving only a few inches had been a mistake. She looked like a shorn sheep.

She bit back the natural response: “It’s none of your business,” and tried for a cold smile and a neutral greeting instead. “Hi, Matthew. Good you could make it.”

Matt’s gaze was still on her hair, astonished and livid. He might not have loved her, but he had loved her hair. She straightened her back, suddenly very pleased with her new haircut.

His gaze slowly moved to her face again and his eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “You look like hell, Jo. You’re thinner, too. Haven’t you been eating?”

Was that guilt in his voice? Surprised guilt? Did he think she’d been pining away over him?

She’d ignore him. She’d ignore all personal comments he made and just focus on Grandma. “Thanks for coming, Matt,” she managed to say amicably. “Grandma will be happy to see you.”

Matt snapped out of his intense scrutiny of her and glanced toward the stairs. He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in the pockets of his jacket, the anger finally fading from his eyes. “How is she?”

Jo shrugged. “She thinks she’s dying,” she said, disappointed to hear her voice break. “We don’t know. She hasn’t been getting out of bed much and she says she’s weak, but then she isn’t really sick either. She’s an old woman.” Breath left her in an involuntary sigh and she felt those nasty tears gather forces again. “The doctor says he sees no immediate problem, no reason to think she’s really dying…but she’s so sure that it’s impossible not to worry…”

Matt reached for her, compassion in his eyes, but she flinched away. “She needed to see you,” she said, gritting her teeth as she realized she’d wanted his touch. “That’s why I called. She asked for you.”

Matt headed for the stairs, without even removing his jacket. She grabbed his arm, the cool leather of his jacket familiar under her hand. “Wait. She’s asleep now. And she isn’t upstairs in her room, she’s been staying in the downstairs guest room.”

Matt paused and looked back. She released his arm. “She hasn’t been sleeping well lately, so it’s probably better if we let her sleep a bit. She has a bell, and will ring as soon as she needs anything.” She paused. “Unless you’re in a hurry to get back to work? If so, I suppose I could wake her up.”

Matt shook his head and shrugged off his jacket. He tossed it over a chair and looked around. “No. I’m fine. I told people I had a family emergency and wouldn’t be in for a while. I brought my laptop, so if you just have a kitchen chair and telephone line for me, I’ll be fine for a few days.”

A few days? She wouldn’t survive several days with him in the house. “Matt, you don’t have to stay. She just wanted to see you for a minute. She wants to talk to you about…”

Yes, Jo, a sarcastic voice whispered in her ear. What is it she wants to talk to Matt about?

Jo bit her lip. She had to tell Matt. She wasn’t sure how she was going to tell him, but he had to know before he talked to her grandmother.

“…some things. Well, anyway, there are plenty of kitchen chairs.” She led the way to the kitchen, where she had consumed untold gallons of coffee for the past couple of weeks. Somehow everything looked surreal with Matt at her side again. “Would you like some coffee? Or tea?” She knew he preferred coffee, knew how he liked his coffee, was familiar with the way he liked to stir it even though he never added sugar or cream, but they were strangers now. She was determined to keep it that way, to treat him like a stranger.

“Thanks. Coffee would be great.”

She poured him a cup, put milk and sugar on the table, even though she knew he used neither, and sat opposite him at the kitchen table. She’d expected anger in his eyes, real anger, not the momentary fury of shock over her vanished hair. There had certainly been enough anger last time they’d seen each other. But now there was none. Just wariness in the way he looked at her, as if he wasn’t sure what to expect. Somehow, the lack of anger was disappointing. He didn’t care anymore—if he ever had, if it had ever been more than infatuation. The old woman napping in the guest room was now all they shared.

“Why is she staying in the guest room?”

“She suggested it herself. Going up and down the stairs was getting to be difficult for her, and she likes to be able to come to the dining room to eat.”

Matt held his teaspoon between forefinger and middle finger and started work on creating a whirlpool in his mug. His eyes were steady on hers, too familiar and too alien, both at once. “Fill me in, Jo. What’s wrong with her?”

Joanna shrugged. “We’re not really sure what is wrong, except the big one: old age. I visit at least twice a month, and I started to notice about a month ago that she was a bit preoccupied and absent. I was worried, but her memory seemed to be functioning fine. But then for about two weeks now, she’s been feeling very weak, and she hasn’t wanted to get out of bed much. So I moved in for the time being. The doctor says he can’t find anything specifically wrong with her, but at her age…” Joanna bowed her head and warmed her hands on her own cup. She wasn’t ready to let Grandma go. Far from it. “We just don’t know. She thinks she’s dying. She’s quite sure she only has a few days left. I don’t know. At her age, people may sense these things. Be ready to go. The doctor says he’s seen that before.”

Matt put his elbows on the table and raked both hands through his hair as he stared into his coffee cup. “It’s been months, hasn’t it? I haven’t seen her for months…not since we’d just started—”

“She asks a lot about you,” Jo interrupted. “She keeps talking about you.”

“She does?”

“Yes…” Joanna clenched her fists on the table. Tell him! she screamed at herself, but somehow she couldn’t make herself do it. It was too complicated. She didn’t know how to explain her reasoning, how to make him understand how logical it had been at the time.

“Dammit,” he swore. “I should have been there. I should have come to see her more often.”

The soft jingle of the bell drifted into the kitchen, and before Joanna had even put down her mug, Matt was already out of the room.

“Matt! Wait. I need to tell you something…”

Too late. He had already vanished into her grandmother’s room. Joanna pushed herself away from the table and ran after him, cursing her own cowardice.

Too late. From here on, it was all about damage control.

When she entered the room, Matt was bent over her grandmother, his arms around her. Grandma’s beaming face was visible over his shoulder.

“Esther!” Matt said warmly. “It’s been too long. You know how I tend to let the office swallow me up until I forget everything. You shouldn’t let me get away with it.”

Grandma smiled, blue eyes sparkling at the sight of her godson, but she didn’t sit up, a depressing sign of her weakened state. “Until you forget everything? Not quite everything, I hope,” she said, looking at Joanna with a grin. Matt glanced back too, his smile absent and his expression puzzled.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Joanna said, all courage gone. It was too late even for damage control. She’d made a huge mistake. All she could do now was hope Matt caught on and didn’t say anything to upset Grandma. “Just call me if you need anything.”

“No, wait, Jo.” Her grandmother’s trembling hand reached out toward her. “Don’t go. I want you here as well. I need to talk to both of you.”

Joanna hesitated, then came to her grandmother’s side on the other side of the bed from Matt. She sat down on the edge of the bed. Matt pulled up a chair and sat down too, his hand in Esther’s.

“So, how are you, old crone?” he asked, squeezing her hand. “You were still beating me at chess last time I saw you. What are you doing in bed this time of the day? Someone steal all your dresses from the clothesline?”

Joanna watched her grandmother’s eyes brighten as the two of them began their usual banter. She should have called Matt sooner, she castigated herself. Grandma loved to see him, but didn’t want to bother him much, despite all her cracks about curing him of his workaholism.

Grandma looked between them, smiling. “I’m so happy to have both of you here, finally. You see, I don’t think it’ll be long until I get to find out what the afterlife is all about.” She shook her head when Matt started to protest. “Don’t. I’m old and I’m tired. I’ll be ready to go soon.” She took a wheezing breath. “I have a request for you. Both of you.”

“Anything,” Matt muttered. “You know that, Esther. All you have to do is beckon and we jump.”

Grandma’s face creased in laughter, and her eyes were shining as she looked at Matt. “Good.” She tightened her grip on their hands. “Because you see, I want you two to get married before I go.”

CHAPTER TWO

JOANNA was still reeling over the content of her grandmother’s words when she heard Matt give a shaky laugh. “Wow. Get married? You don’t pull any punches, do you, Esther?” He glanced at Joanna, looking confused as well as shocked. In fact, he was looking as if he expected her to straighten this mess out.

Joanna opened her mouth, but only a squeak emerged, so she closed it and concentrated on trying to remember how her vocal chords worked. Her grandmother squeezed her hand, and she brought Jo’s hand to meet Matt’s on top of her duvet. His hand felt hot on top of hers, probably because her own was ice-cold, a familiar state since they’d broken up. She felt a jolt of recognition at his touch and gritted her teeth. This was no time to wallow in self-pity or a broken heart. This was about her grandmother who had the wrong idea.

A very wrong idea—and it was Jo’s fault.

“I know it hasn’t been long since you two discovered each other,” he grandmother continued. “You’re probably still keeping it a secret from most people, aren’t you? But I’ve seen you together, I was in on it from the beginning, remember? No need to look so shocked.”

Joanna felt her face grow red-hot as Matt’s accusing gaze settled on her. Busted.

Grandma let go of their hands and cradled Matt’s hand in both of hers. “You understand, Matt, don’t you? I need to see my little girl safe. She’s never been able to count on her parents, and I couldn’t bear to leave this world knowing I was leaving her behind all alone.”

“Esther…” Matt said weakly. “Jo is not a ‘little girl’. She’s an adult. She’s an independent woman with a career and her own life. She doesn’t need a husband to be ‘safe’. She can take care of herself.”

“You’re right, Matt. She doesn’t need a husband. But she does need you.” Grandma shook her head. “I know it’s old-fashioned, but then I am a relic. I need this.” She gave a weak wink. “You don’t want me haunting this house and then roaming the earth for centuries, do you?”

“Grandma…” Joanna felt guilty about it, but anger stirred over her grandmother’s scheming. “We can’t. We’re not ready. Please don’t ask this of us.”

Grandma sighed. “And here I thought an old woman would never be denied a deathbed wish.”

If the knowledge that this could indeed be her grandmother’s deathbed hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind, Joanna would have rolled her eyes in exasperated recognition of her grandmother’s manipulation. This was probably the geriatric equivalent of throwing a tantrum. “Grandma…you know I love you. I’d do almost anything for you.” She shook her head. “But I won’t get married just because you want me to.”

Her grandmother took a shallow breath and blinked rapidly. “Don’t say no right away, love. Think about it. At least sleep on it. Matt, what about you? You’ll think about it, won’t you? That’s all I’m asking.”

“Esther, nobody wants to be pushed into a marriage, ” Matt replied, and Joanna sighed in relief at hearing him approach this logically, yet kindly. He wasn’t going to spill the beans. “Besides, nothing will change. Our relationship won’t change any by rushing into marriage.”

“It’s already too late for me to see your children be born. I so want to know you’ll be safe with each other before I leave. Marriage is a sanctuary, children. I know you love each other. If you get married I know you will always shelter each other. Matthew, I know you love Joanna. I know you’ll always take care of her, but both of you need the safety that comes with complete commitment.”

His smile was sad. “You know, Esther, there are no guarantees, even with love, and even within a marriage.” He glanced at Jo. “Sometimes your best just isn’t good enough.”

“Don’t say that, Matthew. You have to enter into this marriage with optimism.”

Matt shook his head and his tone hardened just a bit. “Esther, please give this up. Joanna and I aren’t ready for marriage yet.”

Despite the shock and sizzling anger over her grandmother’s interference, Joanna winced at seeing disappointment darken the lined face. Her grandmother’s health had been frail for weeks now. Originally there hadn’t seemed any point in making her miserable by telling her that she and Matt had broken up—especially not when just the thought of having to explain the what and why had been so painful. It would have forced Esther to take sides, and Jo hadn’t wanted that either. So, day after day, she’d postponed it. It had been easier to let her think they were still together, that the long evenings Jo sometimes had to spend at her new workplace were spent with Matt. She’d pushed that problem ahead of her, hoping….

She bit her lip—she’d hoped Matt would be the one to tell her grandmother they weren’t seeing each other anymore. This was all his fault—why should she be the one to break an old woman’s heart? Esther had been thrilled when her only granddaughter and her favorite godson had fallen in love—she would be devastated to hear they had broken up.

Of course, Matt didn’t see Esther very often, so unlike Jo he hadn’t had the opportunity to tell her anything.

Until now—and he couldn’t be allowed to tell her now. Not when she was so weak. Would he understand?

She stole a glance at Matt, sitting there, his hand still in Esther’s hand, his expression brooding, but the surprise had vanished already. At least he’d caught on. This was no time to dump the truth on Grandma, and he seemed to understand that. Her shoulders slumped in relief, even as she realized that her omission of truth was now digging them an even deeper hole.

Esther snorted. “Nobody’s ever ready for marriage. Even when they think they are, they aren’t.”

“We’re nowhere close to ready, Grandma. Neither of us is,” Jo said, her voice clipped. She strove to add warmth to it—she didn’t want Grandma to catch on to the truth after all. “Not now. Who knows what will happen later on.” She almost grinned to herself as she caught Matt’s surprised glance. If they really still were together, and in this predicament, she could just picture the panicked look on his face at hearing her voice the possibility of marriage.

She’d already been dreaming about forever-after, but she very much doubted he had. The closest he’d come to articulating feelings for her had been burrowing up to her, half-asleep, muttering that it was impossible to get close enough. It had warmed her heart at the time, making it leap in hope as she whispered “I love you” soundlessly against his skin, making sure he wouldn’t hear it. Not yet. She’d never felt secure enough to say the words—not when he never came close to mentioning love himself.

And he never had.

“But it’s so obvious that you two are in love,” Esther said. She grinned, a teasing look on her face as she looked at Matt. “It’s been obvious since that day just before Christmas when my granddaughter dropped by one evening, walking two feet above the ground with her skates around her neck and smiling so widely I worried that her face would split.”

“Grandma…” Embarrassed, Joanna fiddled with her hair. A few weeks ago it had been long enough to provide a much-needed shelter to hide behind when she was blushing. But not anymore—three inches just wouldn’t do. “Don’t bring that up now…”

Grandma winked at Matt. “Could that have been a first-kiss day?”

Matt chuckled. Joanna heard the sound, and could imagine the grin that went with it. The grin that would have gone with it, she corrected herself, if theirs was still the relationship her grandmother thought it was. She didn’t want to think about their first kiss, and she was sure Matt didn’t want to either. She stole a look at him, and saw a faint smile as he held Esther’s hand. She took a deep breath. All she could do was pray Matt understood and would continue to keep up the act, at least until Esther was better. She wouldn’t risk her grandmother’s health on heartbreak.

Her grandmother’s face sobered, and her thin hand tightened around Matt’s. “Matthew, I don’t have much time. I honestly don’t think it’ll be more than a few days now.”

“Don’t say that,” Joanna chided her grandmother gently. “You’re not going anywhere. We need you on our side for a while yet.”

Grandma squeezed her hand. “I’m ready for the other side, love. But I don’t want to leave you unless I know you’re in good hands.” She released Jo’s hand and enveloped Matt’s hand with both of hers. “Matthew, you were always a good boy, and you’ve grown into a fine man. Will you promise me that you will always look after my Joanna?”

Matt glanced up at Joanna, his expression unreadable. His gaze fell back on the frail old woman in the bed, and his smile was soft and gentle. His words were smooth, without hesitation, and they sliced Jo’s heart. “I promise, Esther. I will look after Joanna the best I can.”

Esther’s sigh was wheezing. “It will have to be good enough, I suppose.”

Joanna didn’t speak as they left the room, just gestured for Matt to follow her to the kitchen to be sure they were out of her grandmother’s hearing range. The old lady had intended to take a nap, but it wouldn’t hurt to be on the safe side.

She walked into the kitchen, intending to sit down at the kitchen table, but felt too high-strung to stay in one place. She stood instead, motioning for Matt to sit down, but he declined, leaning against the kitchen counter instead, his arms crossed on his chest. He looked intimidating; his eyes boring into hers whenever she dared meet them. She gave a deep sigh. He wanted an explanation. And she owed him one. Or two. Or three.

Or did she? This was just as much his fault as it was hers. He was the one responsible for their breakup and if he’d visited his godmother more often, he could have been the one to tell her. Why should it have to be her responsibility when nothing of this whole mess was her fault?

“I suppose you have some sort of an explanation for this?”

Joanna rubbed her forehead, feeling exhausted. Too exhausted for a showdown. “Does it matter? I didn’t know what she had in mind. I never dreamed she’d try to push us to get married.”

“You know I’m not talking about that…marriage proposal.” Matt shook his head. He got his laptop from his briefcase, plugged it in and connected it to the phone line as he spoke. Joanna felt a melancholy smile of exasperation tug at her lips. This too was familiar, the way Matt could work while he talked, while he ate, while he watched television. It didn’t matter what he was doing, he could always give some portion of his attention to his work. It could be very irritating, but she’d been working on reforming him. One way she’d always managed to grab all his attention was by…

No. She bit her tongue hard and pinched her own arm for good measure. Compost heap again. Things sure seemed to ferment there.

“Let me summarize,” Matt said, his voice dry. “Esther still thinks we’re madly in love, and is ecstatic at the thought of her two favorite people having found each other.”

Jo gritted her teeth, unsure if what she was feeling was fury or fear. Madly in love? Was that just a sarcastic choice of phrase, or had he known about her feelings all along? “I know. I know, Matt, there’s no need to rub it in.”

And now it had gotten her in trouble. Matt in trouble. Both of them.

“You could at least have warned me,” Matt said, still doing that infuriating trick of dividing his attention between her and his laptop. “You should have warned me that she didn’t know. I nearly gave it away.”

“Yes. I should have.” Joanna paused, at a loss to explain why she hadn’t done that, why she’d postponed telling Matt the truth until it was too late. “I guess I hoped the subject wouldn’t even come up.”

And look where it had got her. Her grandmother had proposed to Matt on her behalf.

Matt’s laugh was short and harsh. His feelings were betrayed by the way he slammed the laptop shut. “I would say it did come up.”

Joanna shook her head. “I would never have guessed she’d do that.” She sighed, suddenly furious with herself. “I know it was cowardly of me, but I just couldn’t tell her. At first I just wanted to wait until…” she broke off. There was no need to let Matt know precisely how crushed she’d been after their breakup, how the merest mention of his name had been enough to threaten tears flowing. “When her health declined, I didn’t want to add to her worries. She adores you. She was so happy thinking we were seeing each other, and somehow it was never quite the right time to tell her.”

She sighed, leaning her head against the wall, still not looking at Matt. “I couldn’t bear to tell her, not even this afternoon when she demanded that I call you. I don’t regret that—I’d rather pretend we’re together than take any risks with Grandma’s health. But I should have warned you—I’m sorry that I didn’t.”

Matt didn’t reply. When she finally looked at him, he was staring out the window into the darkened garden, his brow heavy, lips tight. “You should have called me before. I had no idea she was so ill.”

“She’s getting on in years, Matt. What did you expect? It’s not my role to make sure you spare the time to visit her.”

“Spare the time?” Matt looked at her, then looked away and shook his head. He was silent for a while, then shrugged as he spoke again. “Well, you’re right. I should have visited. But I would have appreciated a call to let me know she’s failing.”

Joanna clenched her fists and turned her attention away. “You’re right, I should have let you know sooner. But that’s irrelevant now. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t know anything about…what happened at work?”

Joanna straightened up and met his gaze directly. “No.”

“She does know you switched jobs?”

“Yes. She thinks it’s because the company enforces a strong policy against office relationships.”

“It does have that policy.”

“You think I don’t know that, Matt?” They’d ignored that policy, which was the whole reason her entire future had nearly gone down the drain. Yes, she knew well enough about it.

“But she knows nothing else?” Matt asked.

“No. And we’re not telling her. She thinks we’re dating—and now she wants us to get married. That’s all that matters now.”

“I see.”

“Do you?” she demanded. “She’s old and weak. She thinks she’s dying. She may be right. She’s so happy thinking we are an item. She can be old-fashioned at times, but she worries about me and she thinks I’m safe with you.”

“I see.”

“Of course we’re not getting married, but we can’t ruin her illusion of us as a happy couple.” Her mind was made up. They would keep up the pretence until Grandma was better. Or…until there was no longer a need for it. “Not now. You can’t tell her we broke up.”

He opened his mouth.

“Matt, say ‘I see’ one more time, and there will be no more coffee for you in this kitchen.”

He looked at her in surprise, and then he smiled. His smile shot a flash of almost forgotten heat through her and she looked down into her coffee mug, trying to break the spell.

The doorbell rang, and she was grateful to escape. At the door, her grandmother’s three bridge partners clustered on the top steps, and somehow the three five-foot-tall ladies managed between them to dwarf the tall elderly gentleman standing in the middle, looking rather shell-shocked.

“Anna, Rose, Nora,” she acknowledged and stepped back. The old ladies filtered in, kissing her cheeks and chattering in a chorus. They visited her grandmother almost daily, and the laughter that filled the house during their visit, was probably better for Esther than all the doctors and medications in the world.

“Harlan Carlson,” the man said, holding out a hand and smiling. He looked very distinguished with his silver hair and a neatly trimmed white beard, but not familiar. “I’m an old friend of your grandmother’s. You must be little Joanna. We met many years ago, but you were very young, so you probably don’t remember me.”

Jo tried to place him, but with no luck. Her grandmother had so many old friends. “I’m afraid I don’t,” she replied apologetically, looking at the three ladies who were busy creating a mountain of outer garments after having piled their shopping bags in an equally impressive pile. Apparently they’d arrived directly from an extended visit to the mall. “But it’s always a pleasure to meet my grandmother’s friends, Mr. Carlson. Are you a new addition to the bridge club?”

His face creased in a hearty chuckle. “I don’t think so. Esther called me a few days ago—I’m very much looking forward to seeing her again.”

Joanna nodded, and beckoned him to follow as the three ladies filtered in a row toward Esther’s room, talking loudly amongst themselves. Matt came out of the kitchen, shook hands with Mr. Carlson and was affectionately attacked by the three ladies. They followed the horde to her grandmother’s room.

Esther was sitting up, almost bouncing at the sight of her friends filling the room. The air resounded with smacking kisses and fuss as everybody got comfortable at their usual stations. Mr. Carlson waited while the ladies got their greetings over with, and Matt leaned against the windowsill, his expression giving away nothing.

“Grandma?” Jo stood up on tiptoe and waved a hand to get her grandmother’s attention over the crowd at her bedside. “Harlan Carlson is here to see you.” She beckoned Mr. Carlson to step closer.

Grandma smiled and waved at him. “Harlan! It’s been forever, hasn’t it? I see your hair is turning white, just like mine.”

“I’ll bring up some coffee for your friends, Grandma,” Jo said, and turned to leave the room.

“No—wait a minute, Joanna. It’s because of you that I got Harlan here.”

Jo turned around and squirmed between Nora and Rose to her grandmother’s bedside, waiting for her grandmother’s explanation. She was pretty sure this had something to do with dying. Was Mr. Carlson here to draw up a will, perhaps? She suppressed a sigh and a twinge of fear. “What do you mean?”

Grandma looked up at her, pleading in her eyes. “Harlan is a retired judge. He can marry you and Matt.”

“What?”

“Please, Jo. Get married. Now. I know Matt will agree if you do. Harlan can marry you now.” She reached up and stroked Jo’s cheek. “You could be Mrs. Bentley in one hour, love.”

Jo felt her insides heave. The silence in the room was deafening; even the bridge trio held their breath. “Grandma—you called for a judge, so he could marry me and Matt—here and now?”

An almost imperceptible nod, the look on the lined face a blend of guile and hope. “Harlan retired a while ago, but he can still perform weddings. Of course we don’t have the paperwork, but…he’s an old friend—I called in a favor.”

Mr. Carlson—Justice Carlson—cleared his throat. “This is very unusual,” he said, looking between her and Matt. “I probably wouldn’t be doing this for anyone except Esther, but I understand…” He hesitated, then shook his head. “Well, there is considerable urgency. You don’t have a license, so you have to realize this is not a legal ceremony. You’ll have to do this again officially, with the proper paperwork in order.”

Jo felt tears teeter at the corner of her eye. She blinked them away. This was funny, she told herself. She’d tell her friends about this next week, and they’d have a good laugh. “Grandma—I can’t believe this! What happened to ‘sleep on it’?”

“I was speaking rhetorically. You’ve had time to think about it.”

“Grandma, please. Don’t do this. It’s not right. Don’t try to control our lives. Don’t do this to us. I don’t want to disappoint you, and neither does Matt, but we can’t do something this drastic just because you want us to. Please, don’t do this.”

Esther squeezed her hands together. “Forgive me, Joanna, but I must meddle. It means so much to me to see you marry Matt before I leave.”

“Justice Carlson just said, it wouldn’t be legal, Grandma.”

The old lady waved away her objections. “Harlan can marry you now—to me that’ll be just as valid as any other wedding. Then you’ll just do it all over again with the paperwork and rice later. The important thing is that you make the commitment to each other, that you say the vows. That’s all that matters. There’s time enough for the petty details later. Time that I don’t have,” she added with a sigh.

“But it’s not…”

Grandma didn’t let her interrupt. “I know. You want a proposal from your man, not an old lady ordering him to marry you. But things are urgent now.” She lifted a finger at Joanna and managed to wave it around without moving her hand. “I bet you would rather that I boss you around now than that I haunt you in the afterlife, wouldn’t you?” She grinned, a lively spark in her eyes that belied a woman on her deathbed. “I haven’t seen your grandfather in twenty-two years. We’ll have better things to do than chase after you, rattling our chains.”

Esther’s friends cackled, and Joanna couldn’t help but smile, even as tears continued to well in her eyes. This woman had been everything to her, a substitute for the parents that had never been there. “Don’t worry about me, Grandma. I’ll be fine. I don’t need Matt to look after me, any more than he needs someone to look after him.”

“Oh, he does, love. It’s not just him who has to do all the work. You need to look after Matt for me. That’s why I need you two to get married.” A trembling hand reached out for the glass of water on the nightstand. “I’m afraid I don’t have much energy. I think I need to rest soon again.” A long time passed as she brought the glass to her mouth, drank, and put the glass back down. She was so weak now, Joanna thought in anguish. Just a couple of months ago she was walking the dogs by herself, and now she had to struggle for a drink of water.

“Tell me children, will you do this for me, let me see you get married before I die?” There was a desperation in her voice, hope in her eyes that cut Joanna to the quick. She covered her face with her hands for a minute, then dropped them, dejected. She took a deep breath. Matt was standing silently by the window, arms crossed as he stared out into the evening darkness. No help there.

There was no choice, was there? She’d have to tell her the truth, hoping she could put it gently enough, hoping her grandmother would understand, wouldn’t be too disappointed, wouldn’t grieve too much for a future her granddaughter and godson would not share. She leaned forward and patted Esther’s hand. “Grandma…You don’t understand…There’s something you should know…” She looked at Matt, pleading for assistance, but his profile was hard and distant. She sighed and looked back at her grandmother. “Grandma…We’re not…”

Grandma waved a hand, dismissing her concerns. “I know. The two of you haven’t been together very long. But I don’t have time. It would mean everything to me to see you safely together—and it’s so obvious that you belong together.”

Oh, God. How could she explain this? “It’s not…”

“Jo, could we speak outside for a moment?” Matt had turned around and was nodding toward the door. “We’ll be back in just a few minutes, Esther.”

Esther smiled. “Take your time. I know my request is a shock…” She gestured weakly. “It would just mean so much to me. Discuss it. I’ll just chat with the girls and Harlan while you’re talking. Take all the time you need. We have all evening.”

All evening. Terrific.

Matt strode to the kitchen, his steps long and fast, and he was already pouring more coffee into their mugs when Joanna reached the door.

He grabbed the mugs in one hand, sugar and milk in the other and flung himself into a kitchen chair, banging the two mugs on the table hard enough to splatter coffee on the wooden surface. He motioned her to sit down opposite him, and she reluctantly did so.

“She’s bluffing, Jo. You’ve got to know she’s trying to manipulate us.”

“Of course she’s trying to manipulate us! She wants us married before she dies, and she’s not above using emotional blackmail.”

“Are you sure things are that serious? She’s looking well…” He shook his head. “I find it hard to believe she’s really that sick.”

“You haven’t been here, Matt. You haven’t watched her deteriorate. You didn’t move her things to the downstairs bedroom because she could no longer master the stairs, you haven’t been here to see her stop getting dressed in the morning.”

“Have you called in a specialist to look at her?”

Jo shook her head. “You know how she is with doctors. It’s good old Dr. Harrier or nobody.”

“She could be lying to us.”

“Lying?” He was dismissing her, dismissing her fears for Grandma, dismissing the old woman’s frail health, and his callousness infuriated her. “How can you say that? Why would she lie to us about something so serious? Just to get us married, when she thinks we’re heading that way anyway? If you’re thinking about confronting her with that suspicion, forget it! She doesn’t deserve being called a liar, just because it’s convenient for you!”

Matt stared at her for a long moment, then looked down into his coffee. There was silence in the kitchen for a long time before he spoke again. “Okay. I’m sorry. You know the situation better than I do. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but she seems fine to me—and we both know how she likes to meddle. But I suppose it’s just wishful thinking on my part that she’s actually faking.” He took a deep breath. “Fine. We assume she’s telling the truth. The way I see it, we have three choices. One—we can tell her we broke up. She’ll be pretty devastated. Two—we can stick to our guns and tell her we’re not ready to get married. The same there, she won’t like it, and she may try to make us feel guilty, but she’ll accept it sooner or later.”

Neither option sounded appealing. “And the third?” she prompted, hoping Matt had come up with a magic solution that would fix everything.

“We can do what she wants and get married.”

Joanna opened her mouth to reply, and shock started a coughing fit instead. It didn’t subside until after she had taken long gulps of the glass of water Matt pressed into her hand to replace the coffee mug.

“Bad joke, Matt. Really bad one,” she mumbled when she could speak again.

“It’s probably the safest solution if you’re worried about the shock to her health.”

“What next? She’ll ask us to have triplets, and we run straight to the fertility clinic?”

Matt stopped stirring his coffee and sent her a penetrating glance. “Jo, if you’re right, and she really is dying, we’re not going to get to do her any more favors, are we?”

Jo stopped breathing for a moment. It was one thing to listen to her grandmother’s proclamation of imminent death—she was used to that by now, although it hurt every time. It was something else entirely to have Matt say those words. “She can’t die…” was all she could stutter.

Matt shook his head. “We can’t know, Jo, we can only hope she’ll be fine. But you’re right, we owe her. If she really is sick and we can make her last days happy by pretending to get married, I’d say it’s worth it.”

“Pretending to get married? Are you suggesting we lie to an old woman on her deathbed?”

Matt shrugged impatiently, the simple gesture making her feel she was being unreasonable. “Does it matter? If I have a choice between lying to her or making her last days miserable, I’ll go with the lie. What harm could it do?”

“I can’t lie to her like that. I can’t. And it would be too complicated. She’d want to attend the wedding.” She shook her head. “And don’t even say it. I’m not going through with a fake wedding.”

“Jo, she knows a wedding here and now won’t be a real, legal one. She brought her friend here without warning—she knows we don’t have a license. She doesn’t care about the legalities, for her it’s the ‘I do’ in front of each other and witnesses that matters.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure how she got a judge to agree to this, but Esther’s always been good at manipulating people, hasn’t she?”

Joanna stared at him, almost unable to believe he was really suggesting this. The idea was preposterous. It was out of the question.

She was still working on getting over Matt. Marrying him wouldn’t help the healing process.

Yet, it was the easiest way out of this mess. Her grandmother would be happy, and there wasn’t anything lost, was there? It was just one ceremony, some pretending. It wasn’t as if this would be a real marriage.

Matt tilted the half-empty mug and pushed it back and forth on the table, his dark eyes weary. “Well? Shall we do it?”

He sounded as if he had just offered to have his head cut off. He wasn’t any happier about this than she was, but that was beside the point. He was willing to make this sacrifice for Esther. Of course she was too.

Without realizing, her mind had been made up. She nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Matt nodded, his expression grim now. She stood up and occupied herself with making a fresh pot of coffee. Matt poured the remains of the old coffee into his mug, and she remembered how he didn’t really mind—didn’t really notice—whether coffee was scalding hot or tepid.

More memories from the compost heap. She didn’t want to remember him and his coffee, or how he smiled when seeing her after a long separation, or how he kissed her absently when thinking about something else. Or the wrinkle that appeared between his eyes when he was talking on the phone, or the way he didn’t get around to getting his hair cut until three weeks after it was beginning to irritate him.

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