I smile as I place the thoughtful gift in my bag. “I sure do. Thank you.”
She squeezes my shoulder as we walk farther inside the room. “You’ll need it.”
Will I, though? Haven’t done this since I was a preteen.“I’m sure I will,” I answer as she leaves to greet other people.
Alone in the loud room, there’s no going back now. My friends are gathered at our usual table. I take a deep breath and join them.
All eyes are on me.
“Show us,” Alex says, pointing to my ring finger, not giving me a chance to sit down as my friends crowd me.
“Oh darn it, he’s wasn’t joking when he married you. Thatisthe Callaway ring,” Grace says.
“Um—yeah,” I say, feeling really self-conscious about wearing a family heirloom I definitely don’t deserve.But it makes the marriage look real. Alex takes my hand, and my friends fawn over the wedding band.
“That is just so totally Emerald Creek in the form of a ring,” Grace whispers. “I’ve never seen it up close like that.” She glances at me with a soft smile. Grace knows about my seemingly life-long infatuation with Noah. There’s no way she’s not wondering what happened, but she’s too sweet to ask or even imply anything.
Her seven-year-old cousin and Alex’s adopted daughter wiggles her way within the circle of women and gasps in awe. With a dramatic eye flutter, Skye says, “I think I’ll get married after all.”
She’s met with a concert of awwws, then Alex’s comment, “It’s not about the ring, sweetie.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Grace muses, then to Skye, she says, “Your mom is right. You can get your own ring, you know, if that’s what you really want.”
“But I think it’d be better if someone I looooove gave it to me,” Skye answers. Then she turns around and gives her mom’s belly a hug before running to join a group of kids.
“How’s married life?” Kiara asks, winking at me. “Where’s hubby?”
I motion in the general direction of where I left Noah and pointedly focus on Alex. I can’t lie to Kiara, neither can I answer truthfully in public. “You feeling okay?” I ask Alex. She looks miserable, sprawled on a chair, both hands on her lower belly.
“I probably won’t stay long,” she says. “Hey, I have a favor to ask. Would you guys be cool looking after Skye in case no one else is available when the baby comes? I figured you’re the closest. When we made our birth plan, we thought of Grace and Ethan, with Kiara and Colton as contingency, but—”
“We’re around the corner. Of course we’re cool with that,” I answer right as Noah joins us, holding a heaping plate of food but looking a little upset.Owen, for sure. I slip my hand around his waist and bring him up to speed.
His free arm curves around my shoulders, his fingers stroking the naked skin under my shawl.Good.He remembered we’re supposed to be married.
And he’s damn good at faking it. “We’d love to look after Skye. Right, babe?” He skims my temple with his mouth, inhaling softly. “I got you Shane’s shepherd’s pie,” he says as he sets the plate on the table. “Be right back.” He dashes to the back of the room, no doubt to fill up the cash collection box.
Kiara narrows her eyes at Noah’s back, then squints at me, a thousand words in the turbulence of her gray eyes. She has her we-have-to-talk look, but I can’t go there.
A wave of sadness takes hold of me as I fully grasp the implications of my commitment. I’m truly alone, unable to confide in my friends, to lean into their friendship, to count on their support for however long this lasts. Meanwhile, I’mfast becoming desperately accustomed to my fake husband’s displays of physical attraction in public and friendship in private. I feel fucking alone and desperate, and as if that weren’t enough, more than just horny.
I’m not going to fall in love with my husband, but it doesn’t mean I can’t love the way he treats his siblings. The way he shows up every day. At work. At home. For everyone. The way he deals with the loss of his parents, and the responsibilities too-soon bestowed on him. I used to crush on him because he was the real nice guy with a nerd vibe and an outdoorsy body. I didn’t know everything else hiding under this yumminess. And I can love all that without beingin lovewith him.
Right?
“Babe?” Noah nudges me when he comes back. “Gotta slide in there,” he grumbles in my ear. There’s ten of us milling around the booth, more coming, and that means we’re sitting in pairs. Women on their men’s laps. Pregnant woman at the head of the table.
Noah slides in and pulls me onto him as if this were the most natural thing. As if we did this all the time. I have to say, our movements are natural. There’s no awkwardness. His palm scoops me up, his hand lands on my hip, nudging me against him. I feel a brief tremor coming from him, some understandable tension. But what are we going to do? We’re newlyweds; we’re supposed to not be able to keep our hands off each other.
His hand that was on my hip slides down my thigh while the other twirls my hair, moving it to the side. “You okay?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious of my weight.
The rumble of his voice comes right back. “Never been better.”
I lean into his ear, getting a whiff of his scent. “You’re sure I’m not too heavy?” I whisper.
His hand clenches on my thigh. “What did you say?”
“I said—” I start, but he interrupts me with a spasmodic clench on my thigh.
