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It’s too honest, but I can’t make myself walk it back.

“Oh.” Her breathing accelerates as she fists my shirt even tighter, drawing me closer.

I tell myself it’s just because I surprised her, not because Willow is freefalling like I am. When her knees hug my hips, a shudder runs down my spine. Willow’s eyes dart everywhere—from my jaw, to my tattoos, to where my hands are crushing the counter beside her bare legs.

Her phone sounds, breaking the tense moment, but it takes me a second to realize that it’s not pinging with a blood-sugar alert.

“It’s my mom.” Her cheeks turn pink. “I should answer. She wanted to talk earlier, but I was at the game.”

I lean back, not realizing how close I’d drifted. Three more seconds and I would have skirted my nose down Willow’s before capturing her lips with mine.

“Yeah.” My hands flex, but my feet refuse to move.

Even though her mother knows the truth of our situation, and—according to Willow—has been ‘super supportive of us helping each other out,’ I should probably let them speak privately.

“Would you…” The vulnerability in her gaze shreds what’s left of my heart. “Would you like to meet her?”

“Yes. Of course.” I sound like I just legged out a triple.

Willow’s unabashed grin settles the buzzing at the base of my skull.

When she slides on the video call, I wait quietly until she introduces me. I manage not to sound like a monosyllabic caveman while meeting Michelle. But when it becomes evident that their conversation will be longer than a quick hello, I grab Willow’s snack, encouraging her to eat while her mom recounts how a mischievous raccoon snuck into her diner.

The two of them crack each other up so much that I find myself smiling as I eat my own snack, refill Willow’s water, and then clean our plates. As Willow shares tidbits from our lives, occasionally asking me questions that only require one-word answers, my jaw loosens.

It feels wonderfully ordinary. Almost as if we’re truly married and I’m casually joining in on a chat with my mother-in-law. Michelle seems happy to hear from me, even with how little I contribute.

Eventually, Willow yawns, and Michelle remembers the time difference. We say our goodbyes, but just as I turn to head to my room, Willow calls after me.

“Wait! I forgot to tell you about my master plan.”

Chapter 26

Willow

Operation Everyone Love Shane is a resounding success—at least so far. It’s only been a week, but there’s been a noticeable shift in popular opinion. It’s almost been as successful as my personal mission to recreate the wonder of childhood for Shane. That initiative doesn’t have an official title, but I’m workshopping a few: Childhood 2.0, Project Wonder Revival, and The Extremely Serious Fun Plan.

This last week, I’ve spent the mornings giving Shane a taste of what he missed as a kid, the afternoons painting, and the evenings cheering him on at Waves Stadium. Afterward, I get sucked into painting again until Shane comes home. Then he carries me into the kitchen for a break and, if needed, a late-night snack.

The first step in Op ELS—for short—was for Shane to pick a first-base handshake. I’d broached the subject the morning after my first game while drawing a hopscotch grid in the private garage. Shane had watched me demonstrate the jumping game, arms crossed, his deepest scowl etching his handsome face. After twenty minutes of resistance, he agreed to give Larry a simple knuckle tap-forearm bump combo.

The next morning, I had him watch Piper’s favorite movie with me. Snuggling on the couch with Shane had been so comfortable that I’d accidentally fallen asleep in the crook of his shoulder. I also drooled on him, but as embarrassed as I was, Shane didn’t seem to mind. That night’s homework was to find a kid in the stands to throw his catches to, because he’d mentioned enjoying it.

And so it went: riding bikes then not looking like he was at a funeral in the outfield; pillow fights then agreeing to sign baseballs before a game; flying a kite then answering fan mail, and then, the pièce de résistance…

Yesterday morning, Kenzie and I coordinated for the players to do an awareness campaign for Fur-Ever Homes, our local animal shelter. It turns out, Trevor rescuing a sweet calico cat with medical needs was actually how he and Kenzie met. Then they rescued a stray kitten named Jet.

Let me tell you, there is nothing more wholesome than a bunch of professional athletes covered in animal kisses. Half the team went to the area with the dog kennels, while the other half stayed in Kitty Korner. Liv, the Waves’ social media manager, bounced between the two sections, filming video.

Since Shane said he preferred feline companionship, I put four kittens in his lap. The goal was to get the fans to like him, so why not go full tilt? Liv captured the way his brow furrowed with concentration as Shane ensured every tiny cat was nestled safely in his arms.

If I hadn’t already caught feelings for my fake husband, that sweet tableau would’ve put me over the edge. And it certainly won over online fans. Shane had the comment section in a chokehold, followed by Rhett playing with a darling senior dog named Genevieve.

This last week, I’ve gotten used to Shane’s slight smiles and his quiet companionship. Whenever we don’t have a ‘rediscovering childhood’ activity, he busies himself in the living room, doing sportsball stuff while I paint, occasionally insisting, in that gruff way, to take breaks.

I’ve gotten so used to our routine that I’m quietly dreading next week when Shane will be gone for six long days. That’s why when Trevor texted that Kenzie wasn’t feeling well and rescheduled the team BBQ to next week, I mentally cheered. With the team flying to Charlotte tomorrow morning, that means I have a full day with Shane.

That is…if he ever wakes up.