She trailed her finger around the edge of her mug. “You can’t believe in that.”
“Lust at first sight then?” he asked.
“Seriously, Will? Fine. Love at pretend first sight.”
“Fair enough. We figured, why wait? Our whirlwind romance led to us getting married and ending up here at Twin Lakes.”
She pulled out a thin reporter’s notebook and began scribbling. Why did he find that charming? Maybe he did need to get his head examined. “Where are we from?”
“Confluence.”
Her pen stalled. “Confluence is too close. What if one of the other guests is also from Confluence? Then they’ll know we’re lying.”
“Fine. Nebraska.”
“Nebraska?”
“Yeah.”
“Why Nebraska?”
He took a sip from his cup. “Why not?”
“It’s just that if we’re going to keep this as ‘real’ as possible—so we can keep things straight—we should probably pick a place we’ve both been.”
“Good call. Maryland?”
“Nope. California?”
“Not since I was a kid.”
“I suppose Nebraska it is, then.” She tossed him a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “Hopefully, someone will steal something, and we’ll get a video. I’d hate for this whole thing to be a waste.”
His resolve not to pursue her weakened. Dancing, making out, and waking up next to her? Not a waste.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.
A warning bell clanged in his mind. “Confession time is over, but I suppose it depends on the question. Shoot.”
“Why is confession time over? Shouldn’t it always be confession time?” She tilted her head to the side slightly.
Funny, she hadn’t been gung-ho to play Confessions the other night.
“Last I checked, I’m a reporter, not a priest. This means confession time has limits. What do you want to ask?”
“What’s in the envelope on the nightstand?”
Oh. He’d forgotten to take it with him.
“Don’t answer. None of my business.” She shook her head and poured more coffee for herself. “I was just curious because I’ve seen you mess with it a few times.”
“Okay, I’ll play. But you agree to match the confession, yeah? What’re you putting on the line?”
“I already agreed to have pretend children, isn’t that enough for one day?”
He leaned forward, so they sat knee to knee, and spoke slowly. “I confess in the envelope is a…letter.”
She pulled her knees against her chest. “Right, Sherlock. I got that part. Who is the letter from?”
