She bounced on her toes, doing her best to be cheery. No one wanted deep thoughts at an engagement party. She certainly didn’t need to be evaluating her entire romantic history here. “Then that’s all the more reason I should take this time and learn to just be me.”
“You think you can do that?” he asked, clearly not buying it.
When she was a teenager, Eli always saw right through her bullshit. Apparently, that hadn’t changed.
“Of course.” She kicked off from the railing. “And you know what?”
“I bet you’re gonna tell me.” He opened the grill cover, poked at the roast with a pair of tongs.
“In all that time, you’ve never been with anyone. Maybe it’s you we should be setting up.” She said it, but the idea of Eli with anyone made her heart feel funny. Not good funny. Ache funny. “A little project for my new friends and me?”
“Don’t even think about it.” He pulled her against his side like she was a kid sister.
Except being so close to him made her not feel one bit like his sister.
She laid her head against his shoulder. “I like you, Eli.”
“I like you, too, Mar.” He tilted his head against the crown of hers, planting a soft kiss there.
Okay. So they weren’t seeing other people. They were married. And she was not getting a brotherly vibe from him. That didn’t necessarilymeananything.
“I’m glad we’re getting a divorce so we can spend time together.” She glanced up to catch him staring at her.
He chuckled. “Me, too.”
Disentangling herself from his hug, she bounced her way over to watch the traffic by the park. “And I’m glad I’m not trying to cook spaghetti back at your place.”
That got her a bark of a laugh. “Me, too, Mar. Me, too.”
This would be the best divorce in the history of all divorces.
Her cell buzzed. She didn’t dare chance a glance to see who was calling. It kept buzzing. Finally, she yanked it out, not answering and not recognizing the number calling.
“Maybe you should get that?” Eli asked when the phone continued to buzz at them.
“Hello,” Marlee said.
“Marlee?” a voice she vaguely recognized asked in return. “This is Constance. From theDenver Post.”
Marlee stilled. She knew Constance. Not well, but she’d met her a few times. They’d had lunch once to discuss sponsoring one of the team events. She was nice enough. Super serious about her job, which Marlee could understand and admire. Except when the job was to spill Marlee’s dirty laundry all over the Mile High City.
“I don’t have a comment,” Marlee said before Constance could continue.
Eli raised his eyebrows in her direction.
“On anything,” she added quickly.
“I’m just calling to confirm that Eli Howard is the man you married in Vegas,” Constance continued.
"Please, don’t go there with this. Please,” Marlee said.
“We got the name from Scott Bishop,” Constance continued, her voice quieter. Like she was letting Marlee know so it didn’t blindside her.
Still, it totally blindsided her.
Marlee’s blood seemed to stop pumping. As if she didn’t already have a load of reasons to dislike her ex, he was still piling them on.
“Still no comment.” Marlee held firm.
