Chapter 15
Collin
Most of the time, even when they’re being giant, royal pains, I appreciate my family. It’s something special to have the kind of bond we share.
Things could have really fallen apart when Mom died—and they did, for a little bit. But James held us together until my dad was able to get back up and live again. After that, Tank made it his personal mission to give us the best family experience he could.
My brothers and I have always fought a lot, but they were more squabbles with the occasional physical altercation when things boiled over.
Love always ran between us. We fought because we loved each other, not because we didn’t.
Most disagreements boiled down to personality differences and annoyances, not anything serious.
And as we’ve grown, our differences have led to mutual respect and support.
I’m lucky to call my brothers my best friends.
And yet.
Every so often there are times like this.
Times where I’d like to disown them, change my name, and relocate to a different continent.
In a diabolical plan I should have anticipated, the dinner portion of the evening was totally benign.
Almost as soon as we walked through the door, I wrapped my arm around Molly—wanting to shield her as much as possible from my family’s reactions—and announced that the two of us were pretending to date and why.
Jo was the only one missing, and I’m glad she’s playing at a friend’s house for now—we can talk to her later and in a different way. With everyone else, diving right in with the truth seemed like the best option.
No one seemed particularly shocked or bothered. But what should have been my first clue to something more going on was the fact that no one teased us. Not even Pat.
The normal chaos of a Graham family evening quickly ensued.
Dogs coming in from the backyard and barking greetings.
Everyone talking over each other as Pat finished up the steaks he grilled for dinner.
Conversation quickly moved on to Lindy’s pregnancy and some local town drama.
People were unhappy about moving the Sheet Cake Festival to May—it’s way too hot—and about Wolf Waters’s chaps and speedo combination, which most of the town thinks needs to be addressed by some kind of decency ordinance.
Our family is in agreement with most of the town about Billy Waters’s leadership.
He may only be the temporary mayor, but he’ll probably run once we have an actual election.
Or try to weasel his way into rewriting the town bylaws so this temporary election becomes permanent.
And no one wants that. He’s already trying to make things more difficult for Tank in his efforts to revitalize downtown—which should be in everyone’s best interest.
None of us are sure how Billy secured the position in the first place, as so many in Sheet Cake cannot stand the Waters family. But they’re old Sheet Cake and have money, so they’re obviously exerting sway somewhere, somehow.
Me? I’m just glad it made for a topic of conversation that wasn’t Molly and me.
At one point during the meal, Molly and I shared smiles that seemed made of pure relief.
This isn’t so bad, her face seemed to say.
No, it isn’t, mine agreed.
But I should have known better. I should have realized the trap they were setting, lulling us into feeling comfortable. Safe. Totally at ease as Lindy suggested we go sit in the living room because she needed to put her pregnant feet up—her words.
Molly and I have just taken seats on the couch when suddenly my dad and Harper and Chase are looped in by way of video calls on two different phones, propped up on the renovated fireplace mantel so they can see us.
Before I can ask what’s going on or grab Molly’s hand and make a run for it, the front door opens and Chevy saunters in, taking a seat next to Pat on the couch.
“Why are you here, Sheriff?” I ask, giving the rest of my family narrow-eyed gazes as I scoot a little closer to Molly. As though sensing the same danger I am, she leans into me until I wrap an arm around her shoulders.
Chevy grins. “I’m here in case of an unlawful dispute. Or just to witness the drama. With Val out of the country, I’m bored. Plus, I need to fill her in on all the hot gossip.”
Molly and I are now surrounded and what felt like a safe haven moments ago now feels like an ambush in enemy territory.
And ambush is absolutely the correct term.
With almost manic glee, my entire family barrages us with a seemingly endless number of invasive questions, with a goal of what seems to be my ultimate embarrassment.
It makes the conversation Molly and I had wherein we discussed expectations and practicalities look like a memo scribbled on a sticky note. Meanwhile, my family is apparently researching a whole doctoral thesis on the subject of our fake relationship.
“So, if Lindy and I happen to be out in public and we see you two, do we need to help sell it?” Pat asks. “Like, for example, should we insist we go on a double date immediately?”
I glare at them both. Lindy’s face is serious, like the question is legitimate, but Pat is grinning like the fool that he is.
“I mean, a double date would be fine,” Molly says quickly.
“Spontaneous double dates are acceptable but not necessary,” I add. “And it’s not like I run into you all the time in town. We usually just make plans. Like normal people.”
Pat’s look tells me that running into me and spontaneous double dates are going to be the new normal. The sheer glee on his face assures me he is going to do his very best to see me on a daily basis and drag me and Molly into some kind of date.
“You don’t need to oversell it,” I add.
“Are you saying we don’t need to shout things like, ‘Hey, Collin! Good to see you with your girlfriend’?” Pat asks.
Winnie perks up. “Or comment loudly on you being the cutest couple in town?”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “Both of those examples would fall into the category of overselling.”
“And we wouldn’t want to start any kind of argument on who the cutest couple actually is,” Harper points out.
“Absolutely not,” Tank says. “You’re all equally good looking, and that’s not up for discussion. I don’t want a repeat of you boys competing like you’re back in high school.”
“What about public displays of affection?” Chevy asks, and I make a note to confront him later with an Et tu, Chevy? “You know—good old fashioned PDA.”
It wasn’t awkward when Molly and I talked about this earlier, but it sure is now.
Actually, when we talked about it earlier, it was kind of hot. And I might have even had some of the other kind of PDA—private displays of affection—had my stupid family not interrupted.
“What about it?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“Should we expect to see you two holding hands and kissing?” Winnie asks.
“We’ll be doing a convincing amount of public affection,” I say, shooting Pat a look that promises retribution.
But my younger brother never has cared about consequences.
“So, kissing then?” he presses.
“Relationships do usually involve kissing,” Tank says, and I’m not sure if he’s chastising Pat or making a point to me.
Maybe both.
“We’ll do what’s needed given the situation and circumstances,” I say. Molly shifts under my arm, and I glance down in concern, only to see it looks like she’s holding back laughter.
I’m glad one of us thinks this is funny.
“Perfect. So we’ll expect to see some kissing,” Pat says. “I know when we were first dating, we kissed all the time. Everywhere.”
Lindy rubs a hand over her belly and gives Pat a sly grin. “Not just when we were first dating,” she says, and Pat leans in to plant a lingering kiss on her mouth.
I groan and roll my eyes.
“Ooh!” Winnie leans forward excitedly. “A lot of us have keys and tend to just drop by Tank’s place. Do we need to give you both a heads up—just so we don’t interrupt anything?”
“There won’t be anything to interrupt. Fake dating.” I try to look unbothered by this barrage of nosy questions meant to humiliate me, but I’m sure I look like I’m passing a kidney stone.
Also, if they had stopped by earlier rather than texting, they might have interrupted a kiss.
Practice, I told Molly. That’s what I also told myself when I had the idea.
And the idea was logical—kissing each other for the first time in public would be a disaster. But the truth is, I just wanted to kiss her.
Still do.
But I’ll need to apologize for my family first.
“You’re fake dating with kissing,” Winnie says unhelpfully. “So, you could be kissing at the loft.”
“That’s a good point,” Tank says, apparently not too old to jump into this. “If I need to come into town, I’ll stay elsewhere to give you privacy. And I’ll call before popping in.”
“We don’t need privacy, Dad.”
“Is there any help you’ll need from me, lawfully speaking?” Chevy asks.
“What kind of lawful help would we need?” Molly asks.
Chevy shrugs, and he must see the threatening look in my eyes because he doesn’t make some kind of joke about handcuffs. My family’s personal brand of humor tends to be a little more wholesome than the low hanging fruit of dirty handcuff jokes. Still.
“Anything at all,” says Chevy. “You’re both public figures. This could draw crowds or even paparazzi. Maybe you’d need a personal security detail.”
“I’m not that famous,” Molly protests, though her million-plus followers might suggest otherwise. She’s at the very least social media famous.
“That won’t be necessary,” I tell Chevy. “But thanks for the offer.”
He nods. “Just let me know and we could discuss payment options.”
“You’d want me to pay you to be our bodyguard?”
Chevy raises an eyebrow. “To be your personal security when I’m off-duty? Absolutely I would.”
“So, Molly,” Chase interrupts. “What are you telling Mom and Dad?”