Chapter Four
When Rusty had imagined Blake’s home town, he hadn’t quite pictured what he found in Hope Springs. The scent of pine and cedar hung heavy in the cool winter air as they drove along tree-lined streets in the car Rusty had insisted they hire to get here.
The streets were wide and reasonably well-maintained, in contrast to what he was used to seeing in small towns. The place had a general air of contentment, like something out of a movie version of the 1950s, when everything was clean and neat.
It had never really been that way, but Rusty finally understood what a white picket fence community looked like.
He’d laughed at Blake when he’d complained about the four-hour drive, but he was starting to regret that now. The winding roads around the mountains here werenothinglike the ones back home. He’d never been much of a cautious driver, but America was quickly turning him into one.
Getting out of the car was bliss, even if it was freezing outside.
Well, not quite freezing. There wasn’t any snow on the ground, but there was on the tops of the mountains looming over the town. They looked sharper than the ones he was used to seeing in Melbourne. Rockier, he supposed.
That was probably why they called them The Rockies.
“I grew up in the hills, you know,” Rusty said as Blake followed him out of the car, both of them leaning on the side. “Little town called Upwey.”
“Up… way?” Blake asked, raising an eyebrow. “And you thought Hope Springs wasn’t a real place?”
Blake shrugged. “Never occurred to me it was a weird name until you butchered it just now,” he teased.
“I didn’tbutcherit. Have you ever heard yourself talk? You drop the first letter of every single word.”
“Not every word,” Rusty defended, though he knew that out here,hewas the one with the weird accent.
Blake sighed a long-suffering sigh that made Rusty feel like he really was one half of an old married couple. He’d heard his mother make the same sound a thousand times.
“Let’s go inside. Try to be nice to my family,” Blake said, heading up the path to the front porch.
“Hey, I promised you the perfect husband, and you’ll get it,” Rusty said. He intended to make good on that promise, if only for his own amusement.
Besides, helikedBlake. If they’d met under different circumstances, they might have had a future together. And he’d convinced him to get fake-married to him only to find out later that it was completely real.
He owed him one.
The sound of the doorbell rang in Rusty’s ears, making him wince at how loud it was.
It probably only sounded that way because he was nervous. No one ever brought him home to meet the family. This was the first time he’d done that, and it was all a lie.
The door opened to reveal a small woman with the same warm brown eyes as Blake, the same delicate, elfin features. This had to be Blake’s mother.
She looked Rusty up and down, and then stepped through the door, closing the gap between them and wrapping her arms around him.
Rusty stared at Blake in alarm, not sure how to react.
“Welcome to the family,” she cooed. “We’re all so excited to meet you. Come in, come in.”
She stepped back to give him space to slip inside, but Rusty hadn’t quite recovered enough to move just yet.
“Don’t I get a hug?” Blake asked, holding his arms out.
“Of course you do, honey,” she said, brushing past Rusty to hug Blake as well. “You didn’t tell me he was so handsome.”
Blake glanced up at Rusty. “Is he?” he asked. “I hadn’t noticed.”
His mother laughed, holding the door open for them. “Don’t be mean to your poor husband.”
So she knew, then. Blake must have warned her he was coming.
