Chapter 17 #2
Scottie finally looks up with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Good call.”
I can’t tell if she’s in shock or feeling something else entirely. All I know is I came here to remind my fake wife to schedule with the listing agent—and I’m leaving with her as my real fiancée.
“You’re awfully quiet,” my mom says. “Everything okay?”
I look up to find the entire table staring—eleven pairs of eyes on me at once, twelve if you count Goose, who’s curled up in the corner, head lifted like he understands what’s going on.
“Fine,” I say, and take a large bite of mashed potatoes, pretending it requires my full attention.
My answer doesn’t fool my mother. Leanne Ledger is seldom, if ever, fooled.
She studies me from across the table, her stare relentless. Keeping things from her has never been easy, and she’s always been good at sniffing out the truth. “Long day?”
“Just a day,” I answer, too fast. The words scrape my throat on the way out.
“Dad was busy with Scottie today,” Lily says, nudging her peas into a perfect line with her fork, as if precision might distract me from the fact she’s not eating them.
“Oh yeah?” my dad asks, looking up from his plate. “Any news on a house?”
I clear my throat. “There’s only one available, but I’m in the running to get it. All thanks to Scottie.” I leave out the part where she’s my fake wife—soon to be real wife—for obvious reasons.
That earns a few nods, and thankfully the conversation drifts to safer topics. Layla’s nursing school graduation. Ethan and Marisa’s remodel. Dominic maybe running for sheriff.
It’s times like this I’m grateful for a big family. The noise fills every space that would otherwise be too quiet, and I can usually disappear into it unnoticed. Usually.
Elyse mentions Scottie’s name to Ariana—something about her possibly getting back to work soon—and I catch Lily’s head whip around.
“Scottie spent the night at our house,” Lily says to no one in particular, but she’s got the floor now.
Elyse’s smirk is instant, her head tipping to the side, eyes narrowing on me. “Is that so? Spent the night, huh?”
“In the pool house,” I clarify, rolling my eyes like I’m annoyed—even as my pulse kicks up in panic. “Her parents had people over, and she wanted some space.”
Elyse frowns, though the slight arch of her brow says she’s not buying it. “She came to you instead of me? That’s weird.”
Dropping my head, I shove food around my plate, staring at it like it’s suddenly fascinating. “It’s not a competition, Elle.”
“She stayed for breakfast too,” Lily adds, proud of herself for contributing.
I close my eyes, a silent wince shuddering through me.
Me and Lily are going to have a talk after this about keeping things that happen at home at home. But then again, asking a seven-year-old not to share every microscopic detail of her life might qualify as wishful thinking.
“A sleepover and breakfast,” Elyse says slowly. “That’s interesting.”
“Stop making it something it’s not,” I say, forcing my tone to stay level, even though it wants to climb into that defensive octave. “She needed a place to stay, and I always make a big breakfast on Sundays. Not exactly breaking news.”
My mom’s mouth curves like she’s trying not to smile. “Well, I’m glad she felt comfortable enough to come to you.”
“She’s family,” Dad says simply. “We look out for each other.”
Rather than say anything—further prolonging any discussion of Scottie—I stay quiet.
Conversation starts to pick up again—Lily’s upcoming spelling test and the winery’s fall festival—but my mom’s gaze continues to find its way back to me.
She knows something’s up. I swear, in another life, she was an interrogator—someone who could pull the truth out of people with that unwavering stare of hers.
“You know,” she starts, leaning across the table like she’s whispering, when really everyone can hear her. “I used to think you had a little crush on her.”
My fork stops midair. I set it down carefully, like it’s fragile. “Nope.”
Another lie. I’m pretty sure I graduated from crush a long time ago.
She lifts her brows, not the least bit convinced. “I guess maybe I was wrong.” Her smile turns sly. “Must’ve mixed that up, then.” She glances toward Elyse, grabbing her attention. “Didn’t Scottie have a crush on Gavin when you two were younger?”
Elyse snorts. “Oh, yeah. She’d always lie and say she didn’t, but it was obvious.”
That’s news to me. Not that it matters. I’m four years older—an age gap that might as well have been twenty when we were kids.
“What about me?” Shane chimes in. “She ever have a crush on me? I am, after all, the best-looking Ledger man.”
Ariana launches a pea at him. “Stop being disgusting.”
Elyse rolls her eyes. “None of my friends ever had a crush on you, so stop asking.”
Shane leans back, smug. “That’s not what they said when I was eating their pu—”
“Don’t,” I cut in, my eyes flicking to Lily. “Do not finish that sentence.”
“Pie,” he recovers, clumsy as ever. “That’s not what they said when I was eating their pie.”
Lily looks up from her plate, completely oblivious to what this god-awful conversation is actually about. “Why were you eating pie from Auntie Elyse’s friends, Uncle Shane?”
Jesus. Kill me now.
I shoot Shane a warning glare. He’s skating on very thin ice. I may be nearing forty, but I can still kick his ass.
“Because pie is amazing, Lily Bear,” he says, all innocence. “All the flavors. I’ve been really into French silk lately—”
“That’s enough, Shane,” Dad cuts in, his tone like steel. “You’ve got some screws loose, son. Your mother must’ve breastfed you too long or too little or something. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
Laughter ripples around the table—Ariana’s snort, Elyse’s muffled giggle, Dad’s unimpressed exhale. The tension breaks, but only in the room. Not in me.
Because while everyone else is busy making fun of Shane, my mom’s eyes are still on me.
And I can tell she’s not going to let this Scottie thing go.
Her gaze softens, knowing and a little too perceptive. She winks—giving me the kind of look that says she’s already drawing her own conclusions, even though I’m positive she doesn’t know anything.
“All right.” She tears a roll in half and slides part of it onto Lily’s plate. “Eat two peas between each bite of bread. Deal?”
“Deal,” Lily says, mouth full of roll already.
I lean back in my chair, pretending to focus on Lily’s negotiation tactics, but my mom’s look sticks with me.
Did Scottie really have a crush on me?
All this time, I thought it was one-sided. Turns out, maybe it wasn’t—we were just out of step. Wrong timing. Different versions of ourselves.
When she was a kid, I was too old to notice her that way. And by the time I finally did, it wasn’t something I could act on—not without holding her back.