“No, it’s a passion fruit.”
“Hmm. What’s it taste like?”
I take the fruit from her, our fingers brushing in the process. “I’ll cut it open, and you can try it.”
After slicing it in half, I scoop the goopy seeds with a spoon and hold the utensil out.
When she slurps it into her mouth, her face puckers. “Too sour.”
I disagree, but then again, this woman takes a splash of coffee with her cream and sugar.
“Here.” With a thumb, I swipe at the juice running down her chin and on instinct lick the sweetness from it.
As I pull my hand away, the air grows heavy, and her eyes narrow on my mouth.
Stomach dipping, I clear my throat and take a step back. “We better get going.”
When my dad’s bungalow comes into view, I’m hit with a wave of nausea.
“You okay?” Millie rubs a hand on my thigh, keeping the touch close to my knee.
Still gripping the steering wheel, I focus on my breathing.In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.Just like my therapist taught me. “Mm-hmm.” I turn to her. “I just need this to go well. My relationship with my dad is complicated. One minute he’s kind of rude, the next minute he’s spoiling me and praising me. He gives me whiplash. But he’s my dad, you know? I shouldn’t let his opinion affect me so much, but I can’t help it. I’m still working on it.
“Not only that,” I say as another thought hits me like a smack to the face, “but I’m meeting mybrotherfor the first time.” Theword feels foreign on my tongue. “What if he doesn’t like me?” My chest tightens, making my button-down feel restricting. Instinctively, I go to roll the sleeves, only they’re already cut off at my biceps. I undo an extra button at the top instead.
With a hand on my chest, Millie draws circles against my exposed skin. “Breathe,” she commands, her voice barely audible over the pounding in my ears. “He’s going to like you.”
For a moment, I focus on my breathing, and when it’s mostly steady, I ask, “How do you know?”
“I don’t,” she admits. “He could hate your guts.”
A laugh rumbles out of me. “Gee, thanks. You’re really making me feel better.”
She grins, her apple-green eyes alight. “Listen.” She brings her hand to rest against my forearm, her fingers twitching. “If Kane doesn’t like you, that’s ahimproblem not ayouproblem, got it?”
“Mm-hmm.” I wipe at the sweat around my temple, wishing I could pull my hair back with an elastic right now, but Millie encouraged me to keep it down.
She jostles my arm, then reaches for her door handle. “You ready? We’ve got all our stories straight, yeah?”
I dart a hand out to stop her. “Wait. We haven’t kissed yet.”
“Hmm?” She whips around, her eyes wide.
“We, uh…” I scratch at the back of my neck. “We haven’t had a practice kiss. What if we have to kiss in front of my dad, and it’s all awkward? We need to be convincing.”
She huffs a laugh. “Unless your dad is a voyeur, I think we’ll be fine. No one’s going to expect us to kiss in front of them.”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be suspicious for a newlywed couple not to be all over each other?”
Humming, she scrutinizes me. “Fine. I’ll sit on your lap and hold your hand. And the occasional quick kiss is okay. Happy?”
“What about an ass grab?” I tease.
“There will be no ass grabbing in front of your little brother.”
“Oh, so you’re saying therewillbe some ass grabbing when he’s not around?”
With a groan, she shoves my shoulder. “C’mon, big guy.”
