24
Valerie drops me off in front of Anders’s home. Shortly after she drives off, Taina pulls up in her rental car.
“Going to explain what’s going on?” Taina says when I throw myself into the passenger side.
“Yeah, later,” I say, “but now, I need you to dress me up for a party.”
Easily distracted, Taina smiles. “Oh, amazing, you’ll look so good in this black slip-on I just got.”
When we get back to the rental, I hurriedly shower and straighten my hair. When I’m on my last strand, my phone lights up with a call from Anders.
“Finally,” I say into the speaker, “where have you been? Why haven’t you answered any of my calls?”
The line is quiet, then, “I was busy.”
Which is at least a more polite response than Oh, you can ignore all my calls and messages, but when I do it, it’s a problem?
“I almost blew it today,” I say. “Valerie brought up your party, and I had no idea.”
“I tried calling you before,” he points out. “I wasn’t sure what else to do. I was going to say you were sick if anyone asked.”
“I already played that card,” I say, slapping a hand over my face. I just admitted that playing sick when he needed me for his family dinner was a lie. Sloppy. “Anyway, missing this is too obvious. I’m getting ready now.”
“Okay.”
I hate how clipped his voice is, and the lack of words he uses instead of speaking to me with drawn-out sentences. And I hate that I hate it.
“I’ll be ready in an hour. I’ll drop the address where I’m staying. Pick me up.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I snap, hanging up, ridiculously annoyed, even though I have zero right to be. I’m just a little frazzled. I was taken off guard. And the pressure of the wedding coming up is getting to me.
And it’s Anders’s birthday today.
Taina knocks on the door. “Hurry up,” she calls out. “I’m dying of boredom here.”
It’s been silent during the ride, from the moment Anders opened the passenger door and let me in.
He only nodded to greet me, and he didn’t even turn the music on.
The tension is heavy and thick; the air is hard to breathe.
So, I push the window down, despite the thick humidity from the night air, which is sure to frizz up my hair.
Still, frizzy hair or not, my skin looks flawless and dewy thanks to Taina, and my spaghetti-strapped black dress pairs well with Anders’s black trousers and white button-up. We look good together.
He looks good alone. His sleeves aren’t at their usual rolled-up positions, but the veins on his hands protrude under his skin as he grips the steering wheel, his watch reflecting the lights of oncoming cars every so often.
Even with the window open, his aftershave reaches me, and the scent of it brings me this blend of comfort and desire so suddenly I have to cross my legs and look away.
When we get to the vineyard, Anders parks at the end of the full lot. After this, I’m going to Taina’s, so I grab the tiny bag sitting by my feet and hand it over.
He looks at it like it’s holding a mousetrap.
“For you.” At that, his brows go up, and he stills, like he’s never been given a gift in his life. “It’s not much. It’s kind of cheesy.”
Anders reaches into it, pulls out the miniature golden frame with a replica of his favorite painting in it. “What is this?”
“I remember at the gallery, Valerie said it was your favorite painting. The artist was at the market when I went with Bethany and Olive, with tiny prints of his other works. I got it then and forgot to give it to you.”
Then, because I’m not sure if he remembers how words work, I add, “Happy birthday.”
He shoves the gift in the bag, then gets out of the car. Seconds later, my side opens up, and he pulls me out with him. “What is this?” he asks.
I frown. “You can throw it out if you want.”
“Not that.” He shoves a rough hand through his hair. “This. Disappearing without telling me. Then showing up again with a gift. You’ve been different. Distant.”
A flash of headlights pours over him as another car pulls up.
“I’m still working on the wedding.” I look at my feet, already sore in these heels. “And I’m making progress, don’t worry. I can give you more updates later.”
“You know I’m not talking about that,” he snaps.
My gaze flickers to his heated one. “You should be, though.”
Then I hear doors slamming shut, footsteps—close, deliberate—approaching fast.
He narrows his eyes. “I’m a reasonable man, Lucinda, but even I have my limits.” He steps closer to me. “If I did something wrong, I’ll apologize, but I’m clueless if you don’t tell me. And if you’re putting distance between us—”
“Stop, stop, stop!” I hold up my hands as the footsteps grow louder.
“You can’t keep avoiding—” Anders starts, and then, without thinking, desperate to stop him before anyone overhears, I fling my arms around him and press my mouth to his. The shock of it steals any response from him other than his body going stiff.
I pull away, my arm snaking around him as a couple approaches us.
“Anders,” the woman says, and my heart sinks to my stomach.
Long blond hair, a perfect pointed nose, and smooth tan skin. Anna, the woman whose wedding I wrecked, and her husband, Lucas, beside her.
She opens her arms for a full hug. He pulls away from me slightly, gives her a half hug, and does the same to Lucas. I was in a half-assed disguise when I saw them and caused enough chaos they shouldn’t recognize me—hopefully—but nerves fill my stomach anyway.
Despite everything, Anders still keeps in touch with them.
Weekly catch-ups, the occasional coffee, enough shared history to keep them tethered.
So naturally, they know about me. Maybe not everything—but enough.
Anna narrows her gaze my way, giving me a once-over.
“So, you’re the secret girlfriend,” she says.
“That’s me.”
“Nice to finally meet you.” Lucas holds out a hand, and I match his firm handshake. Unlike his wife, his smile seems harmlessly curious.
“Likewise.”
“You’re different than what I imagined,” Anna says in a small but firm voice.
I cock my head to the side. “What did you imagine?”
“Someone more reserved,” she says, giving me a once-over.
My dress stops midway up my thigh and exposes a lot of shoulder, but is loose-fitting outside the chest area. Her dress is also sleeveless, with a deep plunge, but stops below her thigh.
I’m not sure if it’s a subtle insult, separating us when she knows she was with Anders longer, so I say, “Well”—I give her the same once-over—“looks like Anders has a type.”
Anders snorts, and Lucas wraps an arm around Anna. “Before this gets more awkward, maybe we should all get some liquor in our systems.”
“Great idea.” I tighten my grip on Anders until he puts his arm around me as we walk.
He and Lucas exchange pleasantries while Anna and I keep glancing at each other.
Neither of us is giving the other dirty looks, and it’s not like I need to be territorial since Anders isn’t really mine and Anna is married, but there is this tension that travels with us as we move through the indoor entrance of the vineyard.
When people notice Anders, they all cheer and rush over to give their birthday wishes. Some hang back and wave, taking a more patient approach. I try to pull away so he can greet them all properly, but he snakes a hand around my waist, pressing me against him.
Right. There are more eyes on us than ever.
If there was ever a time to play up the role of doting girlfriend, it’s now.
Especially when we step through the French doors at the back of the building, leading outside to the endless rows of vines, and his favorite people are standing around under hundreds, maybe thousands, of string lights woven throughout thin apple trees that stretch farther than my vision allows.
Olive rushes toward Anders and gives us both a hug. “Happy birthday!” she says, then to me, “You look so pretty.”
I blink. “Oh, I thought you were reading my mind—that’s exactly what I thought when I saw you.”
She smiles widely as Bethany joins, gives us separate hugs, then pats my shoulder. “A shame you didn’t make the family dinner. Anders spoke so sweetly of you; he actually made his father twitch, which is his form of a smile.”
Guilt and nerves pinch the sides of my stomach, but I force a smile. I place my arm on Anders’s chest. “I’m aware of how lucky I am.”
He grabs my hand, lifts it up to his lips, and leaves it there for a long, warm kiss. New, sweeter nerves swarm my stomach and replace the anxiety there.
“Gross,” Valerie says as she joins, John hanging behind her. She hugs her brother, then me. It may be my imagination, but she squeezes me extra tight before pulling away.
“Shall we grab a table?” Bethany says, already walking to a long one on the cobblestones. I try to follow, but my heel gets caught and sinks into the grass.
Anders’s hands grip my waist, yanking me so my back presses against him.
The memory of us at the billiards table, our bodies pressed tightly against each other, flashes through my mind.
It sends a hot shot of heat straight between my legs so suddenly that, if not for Anders wrapped around me, I’d buckle.
“Careful.” His mouth presses against my ear.
“Thanks.” The word is pathetically breathless.
And the sound of it floods my mind with memories—and Anders, too, with the way he begins to harden against me. As much as my body’s instinct wants to press back against his length, I maneuver myself away.
He clears his throat, then holds a hand at my back as he leads us to join the table.
We sit across from Valerie and John, with Bethany and Olive on opposite ends of the table.
“So, Anders,” Bethany says, “how are you feeling? How has the day part of the birthday been treating you?” She looks at me. “I hope you made it special.”
I chew on my bottom lip just as Anders’s arm wraps around me, pulling me close against him. “She gave me a very thoughtful gift.” He ends the sentence with a kiss on the side of my head.