The Spanish Love Deception

Chapter 91

That question seemed sincere. And that only made the knot in my chest grow.

Did he think all I worried about was him failing at remembering my tía-abuela’s name?

The real impostor was me, not him. “It’s not that.” I shook my head, unable to find the right words. “I … I want them to

believe I am happy.”

“Are you not happy, Catalina?” His gaze searched mine with that intensity of his that I was slowly starting to believe

would eventually expose all my secrets.

“I guess I am,” I exhaled, sounding more somber than I wanted to give away. “I think I’m happy. I just want eve

ryone else back at home to believe that I am. Even if the only way to accomplish that is this way”—I waved my hand

between the two of us—“if you look the part. If we do. Only if everyone back home believes that I’m not lonely and

single because I’m broken.” I could see him piecing something together, so I filled in the silence. “We need to make

them—all of them—believe that we are deeply, utterly, and completely in love. If they find out about our arrangement,

they won’t let me live it down. It will be humiliating. Probably a million times worse than attending the wedding alone

and having them pity me until the end of my days.”

If they discovered that I had convinced someone to act as my boyfriend, someone who wasn’t even a friend, I would

only manage to confirm what they’d already believed about me. That I was the broken, stuck, and pathetic Lina they

saw.

Aaron’s eyes sparked with what looked like understanding. As if something had finally clicked together. The truth

behind my motivation perhaps? I hoped not. But whatever it was, it was short-lived because we were interrupted.

His attention shifted to the flight attendant hovering right above our heads.

She directed a radiant smile at him. One he didn’t reciprocate. “Would you like something to drink, Mr. Blackford? Miss

Martín?”

“Two gin and tonics, please,” he said without so much as a second glance to the flight attendant. “That okay, baby?”

My head reared back at that last word. Baby. “Yes, sure,” I whispered, feeling my cheeks heat immediately.

Okay, that had … that had been … I had never been baby to anyone. And judging by the quick flutter in my stomach, I

had kind of liked it. Oh boy. I had actually liked hearing that. Even if it had been fake.

“Thank you, erm …” I stole a glance at the flight attendant, who was eyeing Aaron in an appreciative way. “Thank you,

boyfriend.”

The woman nodded at us with a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

“You know,” Aaron started in a hushed voice once she was gone, “you are worried about me messing up and mixing

up dozens of Spanish names that I’ve heard for the first time today, and yet you overlook that calling me boyfriend will

probably give it all away rather quickly.”

“Dozens of names?” I hissed. “More like a dozen.”

Aaron cut me a look.

“A couple dozen, tops. But you might be right,” I admitted, earning a shocked look from him. “What pet name would

you like me to call you?”

“Whatever makes you the happiest. Just pick one.”

In that moment, the effect of the baby came back with a vengeance. “I don’t know,” I said, kicking that one out of my

head. “I guess one in Spanish makes sense. Bollito? Cuchi cuchi? Pocholito?”

“Bollito?”

“It’s little bun.” I smiled. “Like those bread buns that are spongey and shiny and so cute that—"

“Okay, no.” He frowned. “I think it’s better if we stick to our names,” he said, taking both drinks from the attendant who

had just reappeared and placing mine in front of me. “I don’t think I can trust you to pick one in Spanish without This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

knowing what it means.”

“I’m very trustworthy—you should know that by now.” I brought a finger to my chin, tapping it a few times. “How about

conejito? That’s little bunny.”

With a long sigh, Aaron let his massive body fall deeper into the seat.

“You are right; you are not a bunny.” I paused. “Osito?” I made a show of looking him up and down, as if I were testing

the name on him. “Yeah, that one is way more fitting. You are more of a bear.”

What was very close to a groan got stuck in Aaron’s throat. He lifted his glass to his lips and almost downed half of it.

“Just drink and try to get some sleep, Catalina.”

“Okay.” I turned away, snuggling in my seat and taking a sip of my drink. “If you insist, osito.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Aaron finishing up the rest of his gin and tonic.

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