“I didn’t know Calla and Beck were coming,” I say, and I unclick my belt.
Grey has already jumped out of the truck and is running to where his grandma smiles in front of the white front door.
“It’s a family dinner, Greer. Of course she’s here.”
“I know. Of course I knew that. It’s just?—”
Play the part. It’s just one more night.
I blow out a breath and nod.
“Let’s do this.”
We both get out, meeting in front of Simon’s truck.
He grabs my hand, lacing our fingers, and then leans down to whisper in my ear.
“Thank you again for doing this.”
I nod. He kisses my temple. His mom swoons from the front step.
So far, so good.
Hand in hand, we move toward the house, and his mom pulls me into the biggest and tightest hug I’ve ever had.
“This is such a wonderful night. A full house. I love it.”
“Oh, well, isn’t it the lovely new couple?” Calla says as soon as we walk into the dining room. She’s playing cards with her dad, Beck, and now Grey. “Holding hands.’” She puts a hand on her heart and sighs. “It’s just too cute.”
“I agree.” His mom pops out from the kitchen with a homemade charcuterie board. “It makes my heart so happy to see you with someone.”
As if Simon knew her words were going to make me squirm, he removes his hand from mine and wraps it around my shoulders, causing me to turn into him.
“Cool it, Mom. You keep saying things like that and you’ll scare her away.”
“Yeah, that’s what’s going to make her run.” Beck laughs. “Of all the things.”
“Stop teasing him,” Simon’s dad says. “He’s a grown man and can make his own choices.”
“Thank you, Dad,” Simon says, releasing me.
Calla points to the cards. “Do you two want to play?”
“What game is it?” I ask.
“Bullshit!” Grey shouts loud enough for all of us to jump.
I laugh while Simon shakes his head. “You couldn’t have picked any other game?”
“It’s his favorite,” Calla defends Grey. “Besides, I smell a whole lot of bullsh?—”
“We’ll play,” I cut in before she can finish.
I take a seat, and Simon takes the one next to me, scooting over until our chairs are touching, and placing his arm on the back of my chair. Then he twists his hat backward, leans toward me, and says, “I hope you’re good at this game, because I win almost every match.”
“Almostbeing the keyword,” Beck says. “Till I joined the family.”
“Speaking of joining the family,” his mom says, and she sits by his dad. “Greer, should we move your seat at the reception next to Simon’s?”
