Page 94 of Fake It Till You Make It

Cara’s dismissive tone ignited Eli’s fury. Before he could stop the careless words, the poison had spewed from his mouth. “Not just her. You. All of you, I don’t want your help. I never did.”

His regret came in an instant. Like the others, he was paralyzed. But that didn’t stop him from praying. Please. Please. Please. No, he couldn’t have spoken the lie aloud. But one look at Tobias’s clenched jaw and Noah’s tight lips and he knew the truth. Big mouths should come with warning labels because the strike of Eli’s words, his fears unchecked, spread faster than venom, it poisoned what little oxygen remained in the room. Eli stood stock-still, reining in the cords of dread threatening to cut him in two. He loved his family. He loved Amarie. They were the steel reinforcements in his foundation. And he had just taken a sledgehammer to each of them.Stupid. Stupid.He inhaled, lifted his head, ready to pay penance. All eyes looked to him, each conveying a different emotion. His mom, disappointment and anger. Bethany, sadness and pain. Russell, gloating. Lourdes, gleeful opportunity. And Cara, a sly grin of satisfaction. With his eyes he found the only person in the room who he never intended to hurt, Amarie. Their gazes locked just in time for him to witness her light extinguish.

“Amarie,” he whispered her name, a plea that wentunanswered. She was already backing away from him, but the hurt radiated in her urgent retreat to escape him.

The worst day of Eli’s life started when Amarie disappeared from sight, leaving him behind. “Everybody get out.”

“Let me grab my stuff,” Cara protested.

“Out,” he bellowed.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

INSIDEAMARIE’S HEAD,old fears swirled like bad omens with fathomless eyes in ghostly bodies, screeching,Eli threw you away. Eli used you. He hadn’t. He’d blamed her for the website problems. Which was semi-operational. She’d repeated the same mistake of inserting her helping hands into someone else’s mess. Curse Eli Calvary for making her care about him. Who was she fooling, she’d fallen for the grump. After promising she was his number one, Eli had swayed out of the fairy-tale lane where there was love, skipping along hand and hand, to consider Cara’s cockamamie off-ramp of an excuse. And Russell with his editorialized commentary. Well, Amarie had promised herself that she would not linger where she wasn’t wanted. But she wouldn’t pack up in the middle of the night like before. She’d wait for a decent hour to say farewell to the town and people she’d fallen in love with. The short walk across Cattail Creek, past the Black Bear and the Town Mall plastered with fall-colored posters advertising the Founder’s Day Festival fed her heartbreak.

“Urgh,” she huffed, sadness swooping in to replace her fury. She’d miss out on the bachelor auction winners’announcements and the apple-bobbing contest, the horse rides, and bake sale. Amarie grabbed the doorhandle for Kanaan’s Auto Repair. She would not make the mistakes her mother had made. She wouldn’t be the long-suffering wife, well not that she and Eli had discussed forever, but she wouldn’t be that woman.

And this time she had a plan. Centara Regional in Del Ray, Virginia, one of the many applications she’d completed prior to arriving in Service, had requested a job interview. The email had hit her inbox late yesterday, but she’d been distracted with ex drama. Hers and Eli’s.

“Love sucks and doesn’t live here anymore,” she yelled, the sound carrying through the steel rafters to bounce off the tin roof.

“She never did, ladybug,” Kanaan called down from his second-story office. The garage was a cavernous space with an acoustic echo. Which was could good because Amarie needed to hear anything other than her thoughts. Each tool and piece of equipment had a home on pegboard walls and metal shelves, an atmosphere of pride and professionalism on display. She guessed all the Calvary men had the trait at birth. The faint scent of motor oil hung in the air. For once, she cheered not hearing the water, sure that a single tear would slam into her, a tsunami tearing away what little remained of her heart.

“Hi, Kanaan.” Amarie schooled her features in a serene mask. Though there was nothing she could do to camouflage her puffy eyelids. “I need to pick up Prince, now.” Her voice cracked on the last syllable. That car had served as a safe haven to a scared eleven-year-old Amarie. She needed that comfort once again. And Prince belonged solely to her.

Kanaan moseyed down the steps, dressed in a crisp white T-shirt and loose gray cargo pants. “This emergency requesthave anything to do with the Amber Alert I received from Eli? Seems he’s real upset about a misplaced girlfriend?”

Amarie’s pulse quickened. Eli actually released a call to action to find her? No. Her attention deficit had kicked in, distracting her once again from her goal. The one that would whisk her away from Eli’s forest-green eyes and his talented mouth. This was for the best, she told herself. Happiness could not be trusted. She had money from her weekly pay, and she hadn’t touched the forty-eight hundred dollars in donations in her CashApp account. She didn’t need Eli’s money. She’d wasted enough time expecting a man to be her meal ticket. Amarie could feed herself. She had earned her degree, passed her exam, and organized a winning social media campaign. In other words, she had options. In reality, she always had.

“It’s not a request. I’m not Eli’s girlfriend,” she said a little too loud, her voice a shriek venturing into mild hysteria territory. “So, disconnect my vehicle from life support and hand over the keys.”

She stretched out her palm, wiggling her fingers. “Gimme.”

Kanaan, recognizing she would not be deterred, signaled for her to follow him. He led her to the opposite side of the garage, stopping in front of a tan canvas tarp.

“She’s a good little girly car.” He chuckled, grabbing the tarp and peeling it back.

Amarie gasped in surprise. “OMG.” Prince’s metallic purple paint job twinkled like a firefly jacket. “You—you removed the dents in the driver’s door panel.”

“Since it took a couple of weeks for the parts to arrive, I added a few of my own touches to make up for the delay.”

“Touches. She looks vintage showroom ready.” Amarie pressed her face against the rear window. “You polishedthe inside,” she exclaimed, too shocked to contain her joy. “Kanaan. How did you do all this?”

“Ah, I’m not used to having luxury cars in my shop.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, which turned more berry red by the second. “You wanna take her for a spin? Show off my handiwork?”

Amarie sobered. By now Lourdes Pendleton would’ve spread the word about the end of their partnership and the missing contract. “I don’t think so. I’m going to be heading out of town later tonight.”

Kanaan leaned against the door panel, crossing those fully loaded guns over his chest. The man did have his arms.

“What? But the festival starts tomorrow. You can’t leave before Eli announces the bachelor auction winners.”

She had to. Better to rip the bandage off before things got stickier. It would be harder to pull away if she delayed her departure.

“I’ve accomplished everything I set out to achieve in Service.” She’d even managed to fall in love. “I passed my nursing exam.”

“Heard about it at the Black Bear. Gracie Lou and Ruth are planning a surprise ladies’ day at the spa in Whynot for you.”

Amarie teared up. “They are?”