When my phone rings on Sunday morning, I snatch it up before the first ring finishes. It’s her. My face stretches into a smile so wide it’s embarrassing. I’m grateful no one’s around to witness it.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Liam.” She sounds agitated. Her words tumble out fast, tripping over each other. “You were right. It was Matt. He orchestrated the whole thing.”
My jaw clenches. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, he deserves to step in a wet spot with fresh socks every single morning for the rest of his life.”
He deserves worse than that. He’ll get it if I have my way, which I usually do.
“But that’s not why I’m calling,” Peyton continues, not pausing for breath. “My parents asked me if I was staying in Blue Crescent Harbor, and I said yes, told them about the new job, and they said they’re considering moving there.”
“What?”
“They have to sell the house anyway, to downsize. They can’t afford to keep it. They’ve been studying Camden County, and the area is underserved. There’s room for a new CPA office. And the hospital in Blue Crescent Harbor has a great reputation; it could handle my dad’s treatment?—”
“Yeah, Lila’s parents run it. They might be pricks, but they’re the best in their field.”
“Oh, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. I must tell my dad we know the family who runs the hospital. Lila could introduce us and?—”
“Peyton,” I cut in gently. “Slow down.”
She takes a breath.
“This is good news, isn’t it?” I ask. “You’d have your parents nearby.”
“Yes. Of course. Yes.” Another breath. “But they said they wanted to visit and see the town, and I… I had to tell them.”
“Tell them what?”
“That I’m married.” The words come out in a rush. “To you. And they didn’t buy the love-at-first-sight story I fed them. They have questions. And they’re coming down with me today. They want to meet you.”
“Okay,” I say, digesting the news.
“Liam, you need to give the performance of a lifetime. Please convince them you’re helplessly in love with me.”
I lean against the kitchen counter, staring out the window at the lake glittering in the morning sun.
“Sure,” I say.
“They won’t be easy to fool. My dad especially—he’s got this bullshit detector that’s supernatural.”
“I’ll manage.”
“We’re going to drive back after lunch. We should be there by evening.” She pauses. “I’m so sorry to spring this on you. I know it’s a lot.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “We’ll take them to A Slice of Heaven. Fill them with so much garlic bread and pizza they’ll forget to be suspicious.”
She lets out a shaky laugh. “You’d better hone your acting skills, anyway.”
“I will. See you later, and relax, okay? I promise everything will be fine.”
We hang up.
I stand in the quiet kitchen, with my phone in hand and her frenzied voice still echoing in my ears, mentally preparing for the evening.
Will it even be acting?
