“Well, at least we know Mom and Dad’s meddling worked,” Merc says, but then immediately sucks in a breath. “Shit, I did not mean to say that. This is why I shouldn’t drink.”
I whip my head to my mom, who looks way too pleased with herself. “What meddling?”
“Yeah, what meddling?” Elena and Zara say at the same time.
Her grin widens. “You know we have a security system at the house. With cameras and audio.”
My brow furrows. “Yes, but what does that—” I gasp, my palm slapping across my face. Our kiss. The talkbeforethe kiss… “The driveway!”
“I got the notification that someone drove up, and when no one came to the door right away, I pulled up the camera. That’s when I saw Hollis. I probably shouldn’t have spied on you, but I had no idea why he was here or what we were about to walk into.”
“That’s for sure,” Merc mutters.
Zara looks around the room. “Can someone explain what the hell you’re talking about?”
I grimace, ignoring Zara. I’m completely focused on my traitorous mother right now. “So you’ve known the whole time that we were?—”
“Faking it? Yes. But after a few minutes with you that day, we knew there was something else going on. Maybe you thought you were faking, but there was no denying the way you two looked at each other. You obviously had feelings for each other, whether you knew it or not.”
I can totally picture it now—my parents secretly texting each other back and forth, as they conspire and plot a way to bring us together without tipping us off.
God, they’re sneaky.
And surprisingly good actors.
“So you just played along?”
“Not only did they play along…” Merc snorts. “But they decided to give you a little push by throwing that wedding reception.”
“Mom!” Then I turn to my sister. “Wait, how do you know?”
“I had to tell her,” my mom explains. “When has Merc ever just accepted something at face value without asking a hundred questions first?”
My mouth drops open. I had found that part a bit strange. “I just figured you were distracted.”
Merc shrugs. “I was, but not that distracted. Thanks for the help, by the way.”
I give her a sharp glare. I haven’t told anyone about the song recording. I’m sure my dad knows, and probably my mom too. But I really don’t want to make it into a big deal.
It’s not that I’m not proud. Merc sent me a copy of the finished track, and I love how it turned out. When, or if, it ever makes it to the radio stations, it will be the thrill of a lifetime to hear my voice everywhere.
It’s just that I don’t want anyone to get any ideas.
My family is all about music, and don’t get me wrong, I love it too. But just not in the same way. Recording that track was fun for a single afternoon, but I know it’s not something I want to pursue as a career.
It may sound silly to some, but I enjoy my life at the bar. I love the history and the family connection. Searching for new bands and giving them a place to showcase their talent is rewarding. In the grand scheme of things, it may not seem like a lot, but for me, it’s home.
Just like Hollis.
“So the whole wedding reception was just a ploy to keep us together?”
“Of course it was! I didn’t know what you were doing or why, so I suggested the idea of a reception, knowing you’d have to keep up the ruse until then.” She shrugs. “Anyway, it obviously worked, and I won’t apologize for it. That boy loves you to themoon and back, and I’m so happy to know you’ve found each other.”
I open my mouth to argue that her meddling didn’t really have anything to do with Hollis and me falling in love. But did it? If my mom hadn’t planned that wedding reception, would I have made such a big deal about telling each of my siblings in person? Or would I have just let their busy schedules work to my advantage until our inevitable “break up” in an attempt to protect them?
Shit.
My mom’s smile simply widens.
