Page 27 of Late Harvest

“It means ‘cathartic release caused by using foul language,’” Honor explained, snickering. “Apparently, I’m prone to it in stressful or, uh, other situations.” His sister slid a look at Brinder and bit her lower lip with a sly smile, her cheeks and the tips of her ears turning bright pink.

Chuckles everywhere. Christ. Suddenly, he wished for a Men in Black amnesia device to flash into his eyes and forget every TMI and PDA he’d suffered through these past few days in Virginia.

“Why don’t we refocus, please,” Tiercy added in her high school teacher voice. It wasn’t a question and everyone immediately snapped to attention—hardwired grade school muscle memory apparently kicking in for all. Scanning the group, Tiercy gave a crisp nod of approval. “Did you just say you’re getting married?”

Bash nodded repeatedly. He probably looked like a possessed bobblehead. He forced himself to still his head, even as his foot rat-a-tapped on the barn’s distressed wood floor.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Brinder held up two hands. “Let me get this straight. Your dream role was in danger of being taken away by a producer and so you lied and told him you’d met someone and were in a serious relationship?”

Bash gulped down a nearby water to ease his parched mouth. Blech—he hoped that was his and not one that a rugrat had left behind with their germy backwash.

“Did you say who?”

“I—I did.” Oh, shit. Brinder was gonna blow.

One brow on his brother-in-law’s face cocked up high on his forehead. “Who?” That one word was laced with accusation.

Fire in the hole!

“Arabella Remington.”

Chapter Twelve

I’m not a doctor, but it looks like you have a lack of Vitamin Me.

—From Bash’s dad joke collection

Bash

All around him, voices erupted in ferocious, shocked chatter. It was worse than the barn version of Lord of the Flies he’d experienced earlier. There were so many exclaimed words flying, Bash couldn’t discern anything through the chaotic sound.

A shrill whistle pierced the air and immediate silence descended.

“Enough!” The deep baritone of Tiercy’s husband, Cole, boomed. “Give the man a chance to talk.”

Christ, the dude was jacked and had a commanding presence—he easily could have played Thor. Bash made a mental note to text Hemsworth and tell him to watch his back. Heh heh.

Cole turned to him and leveled a gaze. “Speak.”

Now nine pairs of eyes watched him intently. Bash grabbed the water glass again, froze, and then placed it gently down, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Listen,” he began carefully, realizing he needed their support if this scheme was going to work. “I didn’t intend to create that fabrication. But when it popped into my brain, it just went straight through my filter—do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars—and popped out of my mouth. Arabella…she’s, well…she’s been on my mind nonstop since yesterday. So, naturally, my psyche just glommed onto her.”

Brinder’s jaw dropped. “‘Your psyche?’”

“Yes,” Bash defended earnestly. “She just…was top of mind.” He blew out his breath. “And now I have to convince her to marry me.”

It was like a needle scratch on a record. Everyone was looking at everyone else, sending silent ‘Can you believe this?’ messages he could easily interpret.

Suddenly, laughter filled the barn. Deep belly laughs that under normal circumstances would be contagious. Lila Somerville was in minor hysterics, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

Tiercy leveled a gaze at her late husband’s sister. “Anything you want to share with the class, Li?”

“I just,” she broke off laughing again, unable to finish her thought, coughing and battling to catch her breath. Eventually she pulled herself together, huffing out a laugh and holding her stomach. “Whew—sorry about that. It’s just…holy shit, Bash. You told your producer you’re in a serious, marriage-on-the-way relationship with”—she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, incredulous amusement shaking her shoulders—“Dr. Arabella Remington?!”

“Is that so unbelievable?” Ok, now Bash was getting offended.

Lila held her hands out in a peace-keeping gesture. “No, Bash, please don’t misunderstand. This isn’t an indictment on you. It’s about Doc. She’s, well, she’s the last person who would do something like this.”