Then it’s pure, utter chaos. At some point someone decides we should take a swim. Beck appoints himself puppy guardian, Kiara and Colton hold Skye’s hand as they dip their feet in the river, Noah brings a ball out, and I swim across.
“Careful!” Noah calls out.
I reach the opposite shore and give him a wave, then pause for a minute to take in the picture of this evening. The mansion’s windows cast an inviting glow against the darkening sky, the bistro lights on the patio bringing a smile to my face. My friends’ laughter. Puppy barks echoing. Shreds of conversation drifting my way. All this speaks of a simple and glorious life I want to preserve.
And so far, I have. So no matter what Kiara thinks, I’m not going to ruin it all by spilling my stupid heart.
As I’m about to swim back across, car headlights sweep slowly across Lilyvale’s façade, making me instantly feel uneasy.
Sure, it could be curious tourists. Or someone making a U-turn. But it looks vaguely familiar.
It’s too dark to make out the color, but I’m ready to bet it’s red.
Shaking the unease, I swim quickly back to our group.
As Noah wraps me in a towel and gently squeezes the water out of my hair, I think back to Kiara’s words and dismiss them. I do the same when we end the night roasting marshmallows and he takes me onto his lap because that’s what the other couples are doing. Then again as he lets his hand roam on my naked thigh. And as he whispers in my neck, “I think it’s time for Skye to go to bed,” and that makes me shiver and he says “are you cold” and I answer “no” and I feel his body tense and I wonder if he’s got an erection and that’s why he’s pushing me away from his warmth and toward his knees.
But I’m too chicken to risk what I have for something more.
Skye falls deeply asleep two pages into the story she asked me to read. She’s wiped out from the excitement of the day and from staying up past her bedtime. I leave a nightlight in her bathroom and close her door softly, then pad to our bedroom.
From the couch, Noah mumbles, “Beat you,” with a smile in his voice, then stirs and settles. I stay still, memorizing this moment. So what if I’m not his real wife? I’d give anything for this. Our race to the couch. Our fake PDA. Our moments together at the store. This can be enough for me. More than enough.
The next morning, Grace picks up Skye and convinces her to go to school. “You can skip school when the baby comes home,” she says, and this wins her the argument.
Skye’s still holding a puppy when she’s about to leave, after breakfast. “Can I come and visit her?” she asks timidly, hope in her large eyes.
“Of course you can,” I say as I hug her goodbye.
Noah smiles once they’re gone. “I see a puppy request in the near future. Chris is going to have his hands full with a baby and a dog.”
“Ohmygod yes,” I snort. “Good luck trying to tell that little one no. Skye is the best kid.”
“Plus they have the space,” Noah says.
“They are so totally getting a dog.”
“A real big dog.”
For some reason the idea of our friends getting one of our puppies makes us laugh like crazy.
That night, I stay up late in the parlor talking with Lane on the phone. Her happiness seeps through, all giddy laughter and soft sighs. Her dinner with Jake went better than she’d hoped, and now they’re headed out of town for a few days. “Would you mind telling Noah?” she asks me, hesitation in her voice.
“Of course,” I tell her. After I hang up, I stay still for a moment. Lane’s trust lingers like a gift, warming my chest. It’s something I didn’t know I needed, but it’s there now, soft and powerful. A sister’s confidence.
But now this means Noah and I will have the place to ourselves, and this sends a confusing shiver through me. We’re getting better and better at acting as a real couple in public, and I don’t trust myself alone with him. What if I mistakenly sit on his lap when we’re alone in the kitchen? Kiss him good morning when there’s no one around? It’s not like I have to remind myself to do that. It’s scary how naturally it comes to me. This man is a magnet to me, always has been. What if I ruin everything just by being myself?
Its dark inside the bedroom when I enter. No shape on the couch. Disappointingly, not in the bed either.
The bathroom door creaks, partly open, light spilling onto the floor. I reach for the lamp, ready to say something. But no one comes out.
And the shower starts running.
Steam curls upward, blurring the glass partition.
My pulse quickens as Noah steps into view. Naked. The sight of his body pierces me with want.
I shouldn’t be looking.
