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She nodded. I spent the next few minutes circulating and thanking everyone else who’d come out to help while we devoured the last of the pizza. When the last slice was just a greasy reminder of heartburn to come, people started clearing out. It was after five by the time the last person left, and Melena shut the door with a sigh before rotating so her back was against it. She was adorably disheveled. Her dark hair was mostly out of the ponytail it had started in, hanging in strands around her face. Melena’s T-shirt and pants were smudged and rumpled.

“What a day, huh?” I asked.

“And then some,” she said, as she glanced around at the stacks of boxes. It made me feel like I was living in a game of Tetris. Stacks in different configurations were scattered throughout the house. “Shall we get started in here, so we have one place we can relax? Or in the bedroom, so we have somewhere to sleep?”

“My vote is always to start in the bedroom,” I answered with a wolfish grin.

She snorted. “Sure, Romeo. It would be.”

I shook my head as she followed me into our new room. “Nah. I don’t like that comparison. I like you alive. I likemealive. I’m hoping both families will be supportive. I don’t want a tragic ending.”

She cast me a sideways look as she ripped the tape off one of her boxes and started loading clothing into dresser drawers. “If Andi’s any indication, that may be an uphill battle. How did your parents take the news—you never said.”

I looked up from my own box. “I haven’t told them yet.”

She paused with a handful of lacy underwear to watch me. “What do you mean, you haven’t told them yet? Do you plan to tell them, or is it a secret?”

It took everything I had to focus on her question instead of the bits of lace spilling from her fingers. I cleared my throat. “I haven’t spoken with them. But of course, I plan to tell them. It’s not a secret.”

Melena shoved her handfuls into a drawer, and I bit my lip to keep myself from asking to fold them. Not an excuse to get my hands on her panties, just good organization. Perfectionist, not perv. My lips twitched. Sure. And I streamed porn for the plot lines. Melena brought me back to the less sexy topic of my parents with her next words.

“Jimmy, it’s been weeks. You haven’t spoken with your folks in that long?”

I shrugged. We didn’t speak often. I was an adult. They were adults. We didn’t share every minute of our lives with each other. “Andi knows. She’s the only one I really see. I’ll tell them next time we talk. You’ll see, they’ll be happy for me, but they won’t care about the late notice.”

We were on our own schedule. I was used to that aspect of military family life. Mission first. We celebrated when we could, and milestones became the times you were together, not arbitrary dates on a calendar. Melena shot me a glance that looked like pity or maybe outrage, but I had long reconciled my relationship with my parents. We loved each other. We just weren’t close. They were doing their duty, and I couldn’t fault them for wanting to keep us safe. I’d felt differently in my teens, but I’d survived. If Andi and I never missed a birthday together, it was our secret rebellion.

Melena finally cleared her throat. “Are you planning to tell them it’s a fake marriage; is that why you think they won’t care?”

Was that hurt in her eyes? I hadn’t been planning on telling my parents anything of the sort. For me, our marriage was becoming more real every day. Is that what she wanted to hear?

“I know we said we’d dissolve drama-free if we weren’t working after a year, but I’m not going into this planning on an exit,” I admitted.

I watched carefully as her shoulders relaxed. “Oh,” she said. “Then why won’t your parents care? Won’t they want to meet me? Make sure I measure up for their son?”

“I know Andi has probably scarred you with her prickly opinions, but my parents would care more if we were living together outside of marriage.” My lips turned down. “Appearances matter.”

“Well, my parents are dying to meet you. They’re threatening to descend on us en masse around the holidays.” Her gaze met mine. “That means both brothers, not just Mom and Dad. I feel like I should apologize now.”

I smiled. “It’s fine, Melena. They’re your family. It’ll be tight, but we can make it work if your brothers don’t mind sleeping in the living room. They can each have a couch.”

“Just be ready for them to claim it’s not a sleepover unless I’m out there with them. My parents may be happy for me, but my brothers will never stop seeing me as an eight-year-old.”

I laughed. “That’s okay. Andi is still about ten, so I can relate.”

She shook her head. “Brothers.”

We spent the next few hours unloading boxes in the bedroom, bathroom, and living room. I was too tired to tackle the kitchen. Melena had already ceded that project to me. “Let’s face it, I’m an okay cook, but the kitchen is your dream. I’ll leave the setup there to you.”

When we were too tired to move anymore, we settled down on the couch and Melena started a video call to her mother.

“There you are. Finally. We’ve been waiting for forever. Show me the house!”

Melena smiled at her mom. “Hold your horses, I just sat down. We’ve been moving all day.”

Her mom shook her head. “I could have sent your brothers to help you.”

“Yeah, but then we would have been stuck with them here. Jimmy and I are enjoying the quiet after having people around all day.”