“Do you leave everything in the car?” This from my dad.
“Oh, honey, it’s love. You’re forgetful. Remember when you and I got engaged and—”
Avery tugged me away from the table, walking at breakneck speed until we were once again in the wine cellar. Ah, memories.
“What the hell are you doing?” she snapped.
“Look”—I ran my hand through my hair—“it’s over, I can’t . . . As amusing as it is to make you suffer, I’m not going to let you go down with the Titanic.”
“Are you the Titanic in this situation?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Get on the lifeboat.” I nodded. “Maybe in your version you can save Jack and live happily ever after.” My eyes locked on hers.
Avery sighed and hung her head, then kicked the wooden table. “Grab a bottle of wine, and we’ll add it to the tab as our gift—your parents will never know.”
“Okay.” For some reason I was disappointed. Though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I half expected her to at least do something.
Then again, I’d cheated on her sister.
I was beyond saving in Avery’s book, and knowing that burned like hell.
“It’s been hard on my parents too.” Avery looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “Like really, really hard.” She swallowed and pressed her hands to her temples. “Maybe . . . Oh God, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe if we fake it a little longer at least our moms will talk, and your dad and my dad can go fishing again—”
“—they loved their annual fishing trips.”
She smirked. “Remember the trout I hid in your bed?”
“I watched you do it and then threw it at your face.”
“I wasn’t very sneaky then.”
“Hate to break it to you, but you aren’t sneaky now.”
“So I walk loud.” She shrugged and offered me a beautiful smile, a kind smile, and then she reached out to me. “A few more days of pretending won’t kill us. In fact, it may be the answer to everything.”
“Oh, and how’s that?” I grabbed her hand.
“My parents shouldn’t have ever pushed yours away. The Blacks and the Thorns are like . . . peanut butter and jelly.”
“My mom misses her jelly.”
Avery burst out laughing. “Yeah, okay, grab the wine and try not to encourage your mother toward making any more weird appointments.”
We walked hand in hand back to the dinner table.
“So what do you say?” All eyes focused on Avery as my mom continued dabbing her eyes with her napkin. Apparently, she’d continued crying while we were gone.
“I, uh, I don’t know, boss.” Avery looked at me, willing me with her eyes to stick to the plan for a few days. We could do a few days, right? “Can I have tomorrow off?”
“You know what? Wednesdays are always slow. It’s totally fine with me. You girls have fun.”
With clenched fists at her sides, she gave my mom a curt nod. “Sounds . . . ,” she whispered, then took a deep breath. “Well, like it’s going to be the best day of my life.”
Mom still wasn’t keeping her voice down. “Oh, I have just the gyno. He’s a gorgeous young thing with—”
“Hell no.” I shook my head. “Some young hot doctor isn’t going to look at her . . .” I licked my dry lips. “What about Dr. Byrne? Isn’t he ninety?”
“Honey, the man can barely see!” Mom laughed loudly. “Can you imagine? He’d need a magnifying glass to—”
“SOUNDS GREAT!” Avery shouted and elbowed me in the side.
Mom tilted her head in my direction, and then a slow smile spread across her face. Oh no. Oh dear God. I knew that smile. I knew it well. My stomach dropped.
“Lucas”—she grabbed her water—“you’ll come too.”
Note how she didn’t ask.
She told.
Like a true mother.
And like a good son, I had no choice but to nod and utter, “Sounds like fun.”
Chapter Nineteen
LUCAS
“Riddle me this,” she said in a calm voice once we were back in the car. “How did a dinner with your parents turn into a discussion about an engagement, marriage, grandchildren, and safe sex—then finally somehow detour into planning an appointment for me with a gynecologist with both you and your mother present?”
I.
Had.
Nothing.
“If you can’t laugh about it, you’ll just cry. Believe me, I grew up in that household. It won’t be that bad.”
Avery jerked to attention, her green eyes lit up with hatred. “Did you just say it won’t be that bad? Look, I agreed to help so you should just shut the hell up!”
“Um, well—”
“Have you ever, and I do mean EVER, had a man digging through your parts like he was searching for gold?”
“No,” I choked out, then mumbled, “thank God.”
I turned on the ignition, put the car in drive, and we took off.
She slugged me in the face with her purse. “IT HURTS!”
“THEN DON’T TENSE UP!”
“ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?” Damn it, she was beautiful when she was angry, chest heaving, lips pressed together like she was building up enough energy to use that dirty mouth to yell at me.
“No?” I scooted away from her. “Just, I don’t know, do a yoga breathing exercise thing.” I waved her off and reached into my pocket for my phone. I needed a distraction before my mouth accidentally hit hers in a vain attempt to repeat the kiss that shouldn’t have even happened.