Six months of secret dating that we haven’t given a good reason for is probably enough to make her sister-sense tingle. I know it would for Baylee if she didn’t know the truth.
I glance at Libby again. She seems completely calm, unlike the night we went to her parents’ house, so she must not be too worried. Does that mean she was teasing me earlier? Can I relax?
Or does it mean that Ellie’s third-degree will be all for me? I shudder.
“Jordan?” Libby says from beside me, turning to look up at me.
I realize I’ve tightened my grip on her hand, and I loosen it. “Sorry. So many people. Just keeping you close.”
She raises her eyebrows, clearly not believing me. I shrug. Libby is the one who warned me about Ellie.
When we reach the pickup area, two signs, possibly being held by little girls who are completely obscured by them, start bouncing around. I hear squeals of “Libby! Libby!” The signs fall to the wayside before I can read them, and Libby lets go of my hands to gather up her nieces into her arms.
I swallow and force a smile for the woman and man standing behind them, both of their gazes directly on me. They both have pleasant smiles on their faces, and yet I’m terrified. Will Pemberton, like Charlie, is about my size, so I could probably hold my own if it comes to it. But Ellie, who is several inches shorter than her husband, has a fierce look in her eyes that I think could really tip the scales in their favor.
“I’m Jordan,” I say. I adjust Libby’s bag on my shoulder and hold out a hand.
Ellie’s gaze flicks to the bag, and I catch a small nod of approval. Okay, starting off on the right foot. Mama drilling gentleman qualities into me for the win.
Ellie holds out her hand. “Good to meet you, Jordan. I’m Ellie, and this is my husband, Will.” We turn to Libby and the little girls, who are holding Libby’s hands and excitedly talking to her, neither one letting Libby get a word in. She’s noddingadoringly at them, though, so I don’t think she cares. I can’t help watching her, and warmth slides through me at how lovingly she stares at them.
“That’s Kat,” Ellie says, yanking me back to the present. She points to the older girl, who has wavy dark hair wild around her shoulders. “That’s Emmeline.” She points to the smaller one, who’s mostly nodding along to what her sister is saying, and bobbing a small head with two tiny pigtails. “Girls,” Ellie says, interrupting their conversation with Libby. “This is Jordan.” She gestures with her head toward me.
Both girls stop and nod at their mother, then turn to me. “Hi, Uncle Jordan,” the older one says. Emmeline giggles.
There’s that Uncle Jordan again. “Hi,” I say, my voice strangled. Ellie looks back at me, a familiar watchful expression on her face, way too similar to her mother’s. I look to Libby, and she shrugs.
A cough brings my attention to Will Pemberton, who’s remained silent. He clears his throat, and I notice his eyes twinkling like maybe he’s covering up a laugh. Back when he played for the Pumas, Will was known for his serious demeanor both on and off the field. The amusement surprises me.
“Brynne is picking up your bags so we don’t have to wait,” Ellie says, turning to Libby. “That way we can head right back to the house and have some dinner.” She starts leading the way out of the airport.
Libby is tugged along by her nieces.Ournieces. Fake feelings or not, the marriage is real. Legal. I swallow again. All of this seemed so much easier when it was me and Libby planning for how to stick it to those sexist old men who didn’t think she could run a hockey franchise.
“I’d rather go straight to the hotel,” Libby says. “We’ll grab something on the way and come over tomorrow. Promise.”
“Hotel?” Ellie freezes and whirls on her sister. “You’re not staying in a hotel. You’re staying with me.”
Libby turns to me, panic in her expression, which means Ihave to come to her rescue. I will come to Libby Bennet’s rescue every time she asks, for better or worse.
“That’s my call,” I say good-naturedly. There’s another suspicious cough from Will, but I keep my eyes on Ellie. Not sure what Pemberton finds funny about this. “I’m a big guy—” Now I give a brief nod in Will’s direction. “—so I’m particular about beds, and since we can’t move into our apartment until Thursday…” I let the rest trail off like the reasons are obvious, when really, it’s not about me sleeping in an uncomfortable bed for a few nights—I’ve done that plenty of times in my career—but about not having to be a full-on couple twenty-four seven at the Pemberton house.
Ellie laughs and waves a hand at me. Then she gestures toward her husband. “Yeah, we get that. Which is why the guest bed is a California king. I promise you’re going to be way more comfortable in my guest room than a hotel.”
Sothat’swhat Will thought was funny. That I could go up against his wife, who’s clearly as strategic as her little sister. Probably taught her little sister everything she knows. I never stood a chance.
My turn to panic. “We’ve already reserved the room,” I say weakly. Another cough from Will. I ignore him.
Of course Ellie scoffs at my excuse. “Easily cancelled. Where are you booked?” She looks over at Libby.
“The Winscott, of course,” she says.
Ellie puts a hand on her hip, which must be a Bennet sister trademark move, since Libby has pulled it on me a time or two. “Why don’t you want to stay with me, Libs?” she asks accusingly—and there is definitely more to her accusation than just offense that her sister chose a hotel over staying with family. Yeah, Mama would skin me if I came to Redhaven and stayed anywhere but at her house, but there’s an undercurrent of challenge to Ellie’s question and in her expression.
She’s already calling our bluff.
“We’re newlyweds,” Libby squeaks.
Ellie laughs and shakes her head. “Like I don’t know what newlyweds get up to?” She raises her eyebrows at Libby. Thankfully, she’s leaving me out of this part. Libby seemed to believe that I was going to get the brunt of Ellie’s attention, but I think Ellie’s insistence that we stay with her has taken Libby by surprise. It’s a turn of events neither of us predicted.
