“Well, Mrs.Isa Psychopath Archer, my favorite color is red,” I say, meeting her eyes.
Her once casual amusement fades, replaced with a look I can’t quite decipher. It’s only when she looks down, a flush of red tinging her cheeks, that I wince at the implication of my words.
The red dress.
I should keep my mouth shut from now on. The woman must think I’m obsessed with her. And it doesn’t help that I’dinadvertently confessed the same thing at the rehearsal engagement dinner.
“Good to know.” Vivienne lets out a nervous laugh before I have the chance to smooth over my mistake. “What’s next on the list?”
I take this as my cue to let it go.
“Name a country you’re dying to visit.”
Vivienne’s next step falters, her demeanor shifting to something much more blocked off. “Umm…I’m not too sure. Italy maybe? Tiramisu is one of my favorite desserts,” she says a little too breathlessly. “You?”
My fingers find their way to the back of my neck, scratching apprehensively.
I’ve never liked the way this question made me sound.
“I’ve been everywhere, to be honest. Not sure where else I’d want to go.”
“Classic.” That playful smile returns with the roll of her eyes. “Famous engineer things, I wouldn’t get it.”
I gently jab my elbow into hers, loving the way she giggles softly.
Camaraderie—now that’s new for us. And for some reason, I really like it.
“You ready for the next one?” I ask, my eyes landing on a question that’s simply too good not to ask. When she nods, I release the beast of a question Melanie has written down. “Would you still love your partner if they were a worm?”
Vivienne looks up at me in disbelief, while I put on the most serious face I can muster. I last for all of one second before my lips twitch upward. Judging by the look she gives me, I’m not entirely sure she’s convinced the question is on the list, but she answers nonetheless.
“I wouldn’t—no offense. I was never a ‘pick up the worm from the ground’ kind of child.”
I clutch my chest, bunching the fabric of my shirt. “Now that hurt. Why go crushing a man’s dream like that?”
Vivienne shakes her head in amusement. “Would you still love me if I were a worm?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.
“Only if I could kiss you and turn you back into a woman.” I shoot her a wink, only to be rewarded with a hard shove to the chest. I stumble back slightly from the force, no longer able to hold in my laughter.
“Youcannotbe saying things like that!” she exclaims, mouth still hanging open in surprise.
“And why is that?” I take a slow, teasing step closer to her. “Am I not allowed to flirt with my fiancée?”
“NO!” Vivienne declares her stance with a cute stomp of her foot. “You are not allowed to flirt with yourfakefiancée. It goes against all the unspoken rules of this arrangement.”
“And what rules are you talking about, exactly?” I ask with a smirk, tilting my head to the side. “Last I checked, there weren’t any.”
Her gaze darts up in defiance before she scans our surroundings. Whatever she spots in the distance has her seizing my hand and pulling me toward the many open storefronts.
“What is happening?” I ask, more than slightly concerned as I trail her.
Vivienne doesn’t answer, only continues her march toward some pizza shop. Bells jingle as she opens the door, buys two large slices of pizza in the blink of an eye, and claims a square table.
Aside from the owner behind the counter, the place is deserted, something I’m thankful for, given that I’m still standing where she last left me stunned.
I take a seat in front of her as she bites into her food, tossing her head back in delight. Seconds later, a white paperplate bearing the least authentic pizza I’ve ever seen is slid my way.
“You could have told me you were hungry. I wouldn’t have let you starve.”
