“Aye, I did.” Mum took a seat at the small breakfast nook. “Mum and Dad are watching their soap, so we have some privacy. Talk to me, Baird. I know when something is bothering you.”
The thought of explaining my plan filled me with nerves. “Aye, I do have something to tell you.” I turned from the sink, crossing my arms over my chest. “Ains, can you sit for a minute too?”
“Now I’m worried. You sound very serious.” She dropped the dish towel and sat on the chair opposite Mum, bringing her knees up to her chest.
“It’s nothing bad.” I tried to alleviate the worry wrinkling my sister’s brow. “At least I don’t think so.”
Mum pinched her lips together but gestured for me to continue.
I quickly but quietly relayed my and Maia’s plan.
Ainsley and Mum exchanged incredulous looks throughout and stared at each other once I’d finished talking, as if silently communicating.
Finally, Ainsley turned to me. “I think it’s a bad idea to fake-marry a woman you have feelings for.”
Both Mum and Ains knew I was head over heels for Maia because, along with Callan and John, they were my confidantes. I hadn’t told Callan the extentof my feelings because Beth was Maia’s cousin and I didn’t want him to have a secret from Beth. John knew, though.
“Or a genius idea. Gives me time to win her over.” I grinned. “And I have every confidence I can do it.”
“She’d be a fool not to fall for you, son,” Mum opined loyally.
“Maybe,” Ains huffed. “But she’s also just gotten out of a very serious relationship. I doubt Maia wants to jump into anything serious with Baird.”
Irritated, I scowled at my sister. “Why are you pissing in my Cheerios?”
“Baird,” Mum muttered, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
My sister pinned me with her bold stare. “Because I love you and I don’t want you to get your heart broken. Plus, you do realize the tabloids will be all over this.”
“That’s the point. Cleaning up my image. Baird McMillan, family man.”
“Family man?” Mum squeaked. “Is there something else I should know?”
I winked at her. “Not yet, anyway.”
Ainsley made a sound like she was going to be sick.
“Okay, I want grandbabies, but twenty-six is too young.”
“Maia is thirty. We can’t leave it too much longer.” I was only half joking.
“She’s older than your sister?”
“Four years is nothing.”
“I don’t know. Maia’s a pretty mature thirty-year-old.” Ainsley studied me, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Maybe you’re not grown up enough for her.”
I pushed off the counter, gesturing to myself. “I am mature. I am fucking Bitto Storico.”
“Language.” That was Mum.
“Sorry. I am bloody Bitto Storico.”
“I give up,” Mum murmured.
Ainsley screwed up her face. “What is Bitto Storico?”
Mum already had her phone out googling it, and she let out a bark of laughter and held the screen up for Ains.
