Wade
When we get to my parents’ place at six, the drive is already filled with cars and there’s music coming from around back.
I have a bottle of bourbon for my dad, and Harlow’s got some fancy box of chocolates that my mom will swoon over, for sure. We follow the flagstone path around the side and find the patio crowded with the outdoor set I got them for their anniversary last year, three other tables that I’m guessing came from the neighbors, and an arsenal of folding chairs that extend well into the grass.
Harlow takes my hand, and I point out Janie’s parents and her two older sisters and their families. I recognize a few guys my brother hung out with in high school, but there’s also a handful of people I don’t recognize at all. In Enderson, that doesn’t happen too often, so they’ve got to be his buddies from college.
Harlow says everyone’s names back when she meets them, and I can’t resist the urge to tease. “So you remember all their names but not mine?”
Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. “I remember your name now.”
Small miracles. “And my ego thanks you.”
It’s going to need mouth-to-mouth after this week.
Mom sees us and waves us over with that big smile she’s always had whether I was running off the field, out of the rink, or in from the rain on any given day.
It’s good to be home.
“Welcome back!” She pulls us both in for a hug, but the quick pats on the back tell me she’s running on all cylinders. “How was the hotel? It’s been years since I’ve been inside.”
“It’s perfect,” Harlow answers at the same time I say, “Pretty sure it hasn’t been updated in that long either. The pull-out is jacked—”
I cut off as Harlow grips my hand with bone-crushing strength. My mom’s brows knit into a tiny stitch.
Shit!
Mom swats my shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Okaaaay, Wade. Thank you for trying to protect me, but I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday. The pull-out? Please.”
She chuckles some more, like it’s all a big joke.
And then she’s towing us into the crowd where everyone wants to say hello, talk about the varsity football team coming up this year, and ask Harlow what she thinks of our town. With the bachelor and bachelorette parties tomorrow night, the energy is high and, pretty soon, I’m going one way while Harlow casts me a wink over her shoulder as Janie and my mom lead her another.
I try to keep an eye on her, make sure she isn’t getting overwhelmed. But every time I catch sight of her, she’s smiling wider than she was before. Her laughter’s freer. And hell, she’s more relaxed in this party full of strangers than she was when it was just the two of us with a room to ourselves at the Five Hole.
Relaxed looks good on her, but I try not to get caught up in it.
We’ve got more than a week of faking it ahead of us. I can’t afford to screw things up with this girl just because she’s got the kind of laugh that—
“Harlow seems nice,” Kelsey says from behind me.
Jesus. That fast, and every muscle down my spine is knotted tight. “Sorry, didn’t see you before.” I clear my throat. “But yeah, very.”
She steps into my side. Her arms are crossed, so there’s nothing overt about the way that she’s touching me. It’s just her shoulder making contact with my arm. Something you’d expect from old friends, maybe.
Only with Kelsey, that’s never all it is.
“You’re both staying at the hotel?”
Here it comes. “Yep. All checked in.”
A nod, and she turns away. But not before I see the flash of hurt.
Damn it.
“You could have stayed here. In your own room.”
No. I couldn’t. Not with a single wall between her and me. Not after last time. And not a discussion I’m having again now.
I give her a quick pat on the back and head over to my brother.
Harlow
Wade makes a pretty decent fake date. No matter how many times we get pulled away during the evening, he always finds his way back. Dropping a kiss at my cheek and asking how things are going as he slides an arm around my lower back. Joining whatever conversation I’m caught up in and somehow finding a way to tease and flirt more laughter out of me than I’ve given up in the last year. Maybe ever.
He’s sweet and fun, and the way he loves his family? It kind of melts my heart. I can’t even imagine what growing up like this would have been like.
For my part, I remember his name, welcome those shows of attention like a champ, and add my own bit of physical fiction when I can. My signature move is the center-chest pat. I saw Janie doing it with Walt earlier, and I liked the sweetly affectionate quality of it. It’s not like I’m feeling up his pecs or abs, or patting his ass—which I also saw Janie do.
We stay at the Gradys’ until close to eleven. It practically takes swearing on a stack of bibles, but I finally convince Grace I’m not just being polite and would love to help. So next week, I’ll be joining her in making cookies for the dessert table and some last-minute set-up while Wade handles his best-man duties and some manual labor at the hobby farm where the wedding and reception are being held. It’s perfect.
I swan back into the kitchen where Wade is drying dishes with a white cloth he flips over his shoulder at my approach.
“See this?” I wave my list like a victory flag.
Setting a platter aside, he rounds the island and takes it from my hand. “Look at your bad self.”
Taking my list back, I lean against the counter and fan myself with the skinny sheet of paper with the header “From the desk of Grace Grady.”
“I’m killing it.”
“Yeah, you are.” His smile is wide and warm as he props a hip on the counter beside me. “What’s it going to take to lock down repeat performances for say… the next twenty years? I’m getting the sense my parents won’t let me in the front door next time if I don’t have you by my side.”
It’s tempting. Not just because I’m riding the high of tonight’s success—though I absolutely am. Or because Wade is the kind of easy fun I never expected to be having. But because my family, what there is of it, is nothing like this.
I’ve seen my father laugh before, but only in the context of a competitor’s misstep. Jokes are beneath him. And the landmines of the past are too vast and varied to tread near.
There’s an appeal to feeling like you’re a part of a whole instead of knowing you’re just another satellite orbiting an entity bigger than yourself.
But what I’m a part of here isn’t real. And no matter how nice having Grace Grady fuss over me feels or how welcoming his family is… none of it is mine.
“Sorry, Sport. You’re a good guy, but I’ve penciled in a fake breakup for about a week before your next trip home.”
“Doomed from the start.” His smile grows wider. “But we’ll always have Enderson?”
This guy is too much. “Yes, we’ll always have Enderson.”
His eyes linger on mine before finally shifting away… and freezing. “Oh, hey, Kels.”
She’s standing in the doorway I walked through only the moment before. I quickly replay our exchange, inwardly cringing. Even if she heard, it might sound like nonsense. A couple teasing each other, nothing more.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Her hands flutter to her chest. “I was just thinking it’s getting awfully late. Why don’t you let me make up the couch for Harlow so you don’t have to drive?”
Wade catches my hand in the firm grasp of his, pulling me in front of him and doing that thing where our fingers are still threaded together when he wraps his arms around me from behind. “Thanks for the offer, but we’re good. I haven’t been drinking and it’s less than ten minutes to the hotel.”
“But the roads are dark, and you haven’t been home in a while and—”
“I’m fine, Kelsey,” he says, his tone hard.
She gives him a short nod but somehow manages to avoid meeting my eyes even once. It’s not exactly a snub, but real or not, it feels weird to be on the receiving end of a stranger’s animosity.
After finding Wade’s parents to say good night, we make our way out front. Wade holds my hand the whole way.
“Almost done.” When we get to the truck, he doesn’t open the door. “Remember how I said it would look like I was kissing you when we first got here?”
“I remember.”
Wade draws me in front of him, positioning me so I’m resting against the cool metal.
Pushing to my toes, I try to peek past his shoulder. He’s too tall. Too broad. “Do you think she’s watching?”
“I know she is.” With a short laugh, he angles his body, giving me a quick glimpse of the house before moving back into my space. It was just long enough to see the silhouette of a woman at the window.
“I feel bad for her but, Wade, that’s kind of creepy.”
“Try waking up to her slipping into your bed. Naked. And I’m not talking about back in high school.”
“What? Here?” I try to peek past him again, only this time it’s outrage more than curiosity.
He shakes his head, nudging me back against the truck. “You see why I needed the date?”
“I guess I do. But, Wade, that’s not okay. Did you tell your mom?”
The smacked expression on his face is… I don’t even know what to make of it.
“Seriously, the fact that you think I’m tattling to my mother—” He rubs a big hand over his jaw. “Where did I go wrong with you? Was it something I said? Something I did? My shirt, my hair?”
“What?” My hands fly up between us. “Grace just seems like a really good mom. And she’s the one who invited Kelsey to move in. I don’t know.”
“I was twenty-four years old!” He’s half yelling at me, half laughing, and I can’t tear my eyes away from that openmouthed smile. His head drops forward for a beat. “Harlow, I’ve never met a woman so completely underwhelmed by me. And I know this whole ‘body business’ doesn’t do it for you, but what the heck? Pro-athlete. Graduated with honors from a well-respected school—and because I know you’re thinking, as an athlete, I didn’t have to earn those grades the way the real students did, let me tell you you’re wrong. I busted my ass for every one.”
I believe him.
I might have been harboring some unfair stereotypes about jocks when we met, but it didn’t take more than one conversation to set me straight. This is a man who tries.
Though why he tries so hard with me, I don’t know.
“What do you care what I think, anyway?”
He considers and then gives me an easy shrug. “Don’t know. But I do.”
That easy admission warms my chest more than it probably should, and I don’t quite know how to respond, so I circle back to the issue at hand.
“Kelsey. Assuming she’s still watching—” Again I go for a peek, and again Wade reins me back in.
“Trust me. She is.”
“Okay, so what do I do here?”
He stares at me through the darkness. “Maybe put your hands on my shoulders or, hell, you don’t have to do anything, really. Just let me lean into your personal space for a minute, if that’s okay.”
My hands move to his shoulders, resting lightly over the hard, layered muscles. “It is.”
Then, slowly, he lowers his head, bringing his brow to touch mine as he gently cups my cheek.
Staring up into the shadows of his face while he’s touching me feels different. And even though we’ve been faking our way through this whole day, right now I feel inexplicably nervous.
“That’s a nice touch with your hand.”
Another short laugh, but this one is warm against my cheek. “My grandma used to watch soaps when I was a kid. I remember her saying the actors put their hands up like that so you couldn’t see if they were really kissing.”
This time the laugh is mine, and I pull back to meet his eyes. “You’re soap-opera kissing me?”
“Only a little.” He winks, that panty-melting smile flashing through the darkness. “If I were giving you the serious soap treatment, it would be hands roaming all over the PG parts of your body. Lots of back, arms, neck, and hair.”
“Wade… are you sure it was your grandma watching?”
“Sorry, Good Girl,” he murmurs so close to my ear, chills streak down my skin. “That information is above your paygrade.”
“Mmm… saving the good stuff for a real girlfriend. I see how it is.”
Wade starts to step back, an affectionate smile on his face when I catch him by the shirt and pull him back in for one more fake kiss. “Like we can’t quite get enough, right?”
He grins down at me. “You’re a pretty great fake date, Harlow.”
“Told you I would be.”
“Yeah, you did. Let’s get back to the hotel.”