Chapter 7
CALEB
The restaurant has an outdoor seating area covered by a pergola, so Malia and I scoot a couple chairs together. It’s chilly, only about sixty degrees, and she left the wrap she wore here inside. I slip out of my suit coat and drape it over her shoulders.
“Oh, thank you,” she murmurs. She leans back in her chair and stares through the slats at the dark sky above us. “This hasn’t been so bad,” she says.
Not at all. Malia has been brilliant. With my family.
With Ivy. With everything. She reacts so naturally to everything I do, as though we really have been seeing each other a couple weeks and the physical affection comes easily.
It doesn’t surprise me, given the fact that she loves role-playing games online.
“You’re amazing,” I tell her.
She chuckles and keeps staring above her. “This is a simple mission,” she says. Something about her voice is off, a little bit higher than normal.
“Are you sure the stuff I’ve been doing is okay?” I ask.
She finally turns away from the sky and puts her hand over where I’m resting mine on the arm of a wrought-iron chair.
“I know what I signed up for, Cal. It’s absolutely fine.
” She stares at me warmly, and I like the feel of her hand in mine, the way I have all night.
“I kind of wanted to pull Ivy’s hair, to be honest.”
I snort with laughter. “What?”
“Like, I get that you don’t have feelings for her and you’re fine and everything, but I hate what she did.” She squeezes my hand and lets go, like she just remembered we’re out here to take a breather from all the acting.
Warmth melts into my stomach at her protectiveness. “Me too,” I say. “But I’m also glad that we didn’t end up eloping.”
“Me too,” Malia echoes, giving me a small smile. “Not sure we’d have you on our Shadow Heroes team.”
I hope it’s more than that, but I don’t say that out loud. Not yet. Next week I’ll text her. Maybe ask her back to that restaurant we got dessert at—on a real date.
“Caleb?” a voice calls, and I recognize my mom.
Malia must too, because she reacts immediately. She jumps out of her chair and right into my lap.
I’m so surprised by the gesture that it takes me a minute to wrap my arms around her.
But when I do? It’s perfect. She layers her arms on top of mine, leaning back.
Her sweet vanilla-coconut fragrance wraps around me.
I’m not sure what my expression is when Mom rounds the corner to find us—maybe bewilderment at how much I like this—so I press it into Malia’s back.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Gallagher,” Malia says a moment later in a bright voice, straightening a little. And because I know her voice so well, I hear the very slight tremor in it belying laughter. I tighten my arms a little bit.
Why haven’t Malia and I met in person before this?
Why didn’t I recognize how much I enjoyed her company?
I didn’t think that my experience with Ivy really hurt me, but did it make me hesitant and questioning?
Somewhere, subconsciously, did I hold myself back because I was worried about rejection?
Ironically, Ivy would probably know the answer to that.
“I wondered if Caleb was trying to sneak off …” Mom says with a light laugh. As in, she’s suspicious of me and Malia as well, and she thought we’d ditch as soon as possible. She probably thinks Malia is someone I met at a coffee shop this morning.
“Just taking a minute to ourselves.” I squeeze Malia, and I wish I could see her face. The skin of the back of her shoulders is so soft, and it’s tempting to drop a line of kisses along them.
Malia leans back into me again, turning so that our faces are close. “We should probably go back inside, though. This is Carlie’s night.” She stands and holds out a hand to me.
I stand as well and catch the flash of approval from Mom at Malia suggesting we rejoin the party. I lean close to whisper to her. “Well played. Mom approval unlocked.”
Malia grins.
“So Jenna says you two have known each other a while,” Mom asks as we make our way back into the restaurant. “How did you meet?”
“At a coffee shop this morning,” I say dryly. “Malia was in line in front of me and she looked like the type of girl who had a good job, so I went for it.”
Malia snorts and gives me a soft pat on the arm. “Stop teasing your mom,” she tells me, but her expression says good one.
“Oh, Caleb.” Mom sighs.
“We met in a Houston gamers forum,” Malia says, and she repeats our actual story, emphasizing how helpful I was in her finding good housing when she moved here.
Mom turns to me, her head tilted. I think she’s buying all this.
In fact, she likes it. A swirl of guilt goes through me.
I know my mom just wants what’s best for me.
She doesn’t get my job, and finding me a capable, successful wife is her way of trying to take care of me.
A good son would have been honest about not wanting to be set up with every summa cum laude at Carlie’s wedding and then steeled himself for being introduced to a few women anyway.
Instead I went out and found a fake girlfriend.
“What made you ask Malia out finally?” Mom asks, bringing me back to the present, where it’s too late to tell the truth and my mom is falling in love with my fake girlfriend.
How can I blame her? I’m definitely falling a little for her.
“I needed a date for a wedding,” I reply. Mom huffs in annoyance.
“Cal,” Malia says, shaking her head and smiling.
This whole time we’ve been sticking to the truth as much as possible, so I think about the last day and how I’ve realized what a good friend Malia has been to me and how dating makes sense.
“It just clicked one day.” I look down at Malia, hoping my expression is soft and genuine-looking. “I realized what a good friend she was and how much I enjoyed talking to her. It made sense to ask her out and spend more time with her.”
Malia’s expression melts from the laughter at my teasing, and her lips drop into a little O.
I’m tempted to kiss her, really seal this for Mom, but suddenly it feels like going too far.
I settle for kissing her forehead instead, resting my lips there for longer than I need to.
Malia leans into me, sighing with contentment.
After a moment, Malia pulls us back to the task at hand: rejoining the party with my mom, who’s glancing back and forth between us.
Mom takes Malia’s arm and holds it for a moment as we reenter the restaurant.
“Like you said, tonight is Carlie’s night, but I’m really looking forward to finding a moment tomorrow when I can get to know you, Malia.
” She pulls Malia into a hug before gliding off toward the head table where Dad, Carlie, and Law are standing, talking to a handful of people gathered around.
“Who’s next to convince?” Malia says with a chuckle. “I think we’ve won over your mom. Want to make out real quick to seal things for your brothers-in-law?” She arches an eyebrow.
A laugh bursts from me. I slide an arm around her waist and pull her close, taking a quick breath of her vanilla-scented hair and adding that little tidbit to my inventory of all the things I know about Malia now that I’ve met her in person.
“Those guys aren’t trying to set me up, so I’ll spare you for now. ”
“If you’re sure,” she says, and she does a good job of sounding like she’s actually put out that I’m not kissing her. It makes me chuckle again.
“As a consolation, how about we go find some extra dessert?” I suggest.
Malia leans her head on my shoulder. “That’s a plan I can for sure get behind.”