Page 28 of Good Girl’s Guide to Love (Guide to Love #4)

linc

I look out the window of the diner, not really sure what I’m about to see.

And somehow, without knowing who Ainsley’s siblings, are, I know when I see them immediately.

“I’m going to kill them.”

I choke on a laugh, because what I’m looking at right now is downright comical.

Three of them are wearing all black. The fourth has long, dark hair and is wearing normal casual clothes for a Sunday.

She also looks annoyed as hell at the other three.

There’s one guy among them, and he’s pushing a stroller.

The two black-clad women are looking around like they’re auditioning for the next spy movie.

Honestly, I’m ready for the blonde to start jumping on cars.

“What are they doing?” I ask as I watch the guy quickly look away from the window, clearly trying to do his best to look casual but massively failing.

Ainsley shakes her head and throws in an eye roll. “Not having boundaries.”

She throws down her napkin and pushes away from the table, marching to the front door.

“What are you idiots doing?”

I look back through the window to see all of them freeze at Ainsley’s yell.

“I told you she’d see us,” the non-black-wearing woman says.

“She wouldn’t have if you would’ve worn black, Maeve!”

“It wasn’t the black, dumbass,” she replies to the man. “It’s that she was sitting in front of a window, and you’re not stealthy. You’re on the downhill slope to forty and pushing a baby stroller.”

“How dare you!” he yells.

“Will you four just get in here? You’re causing a scene, and I’ve had enough over the past twenty-four hours.”

I stand up from my chair realizing that I need to think quickly right now.

This is Ainsley’s family. I know they were already worried about her today, based on her reaction to the group texting. But for them to track her down and come here, and clearly with some level of planning, feels like a lot. Is this a normal family thing? Or just a her-family thing?

I’ve never met a family in the capacity of a boyfriend.

Actually, I’ve rarely met families. In high school and college, I didn’t have serious girlfriends, so I never had to deal with a dad greeting me at the front door with a baseball bat.

Even my friend group wasn’t the kind who had moms who were inviting us over for Sunday dinners.

The only one who would’ve done that was my Gram, but she hated my friends and told me they were bad influences.

She wasn’t wrong.

The only time I’ve ever met anyone’s family was at Mississippi State.

Wyatt would always make sure to invite me to dinner when his parents were in town.

I knew why he did it—Gram was too old to travel at that point, which meant I never had anyone coming to see me play on Saturdays or take me out for a decent meal—but they never made me feel bad about it. I always appreciated that.

But this is not that. The Atkinses were trying to make me feel included.

Ainsley’s family is ready to put me under the interrogation lamp.

“Well, well, this must be my sister’s new boyfriend.”

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat, and wipe my hand on my shorts just to make sure I’m not sweating. “I am. Linc Kincaid.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” The male looks me up and down, trying to seem intimidating. Also, the stroller he was pushing doesn’t have a baby in it. Which is weird.

“Oh, save it,” Ainsley says. “Can we just all sit down and cool off? Also, why do you have an empty stroller? Where is my niece?”

“It’s part of my cover,” he says as we all take a seat. I pull out Ainsley’s chair for her, making sure she sits before I get into mine. I might not know how to be a boyfriend, but that just feels like bare minimum.

Once I focus back on the siblings I’m glad I did. Four pairs of eyes are staring at me, and they’re all giving me different looks.

The blonde, who looks about the same age as Ainsley, is just smiling.

The one not wearing black is shooting eye daggers at me.

The other sister wearing all black is sitting back in her chair, looking very casual. And I’m pretty sure she’s wagging her eyebrows.

And the guy? He’s still trying to look scary. I hate to tell him that he’s not.

“Quickly, let’s get this out of the way,” Ainsley says, “Linc, these are my siblings. That’s Stella; I don’t know why she’s smiling like that. Maeve is trying to decide which question she wants to ask first. Quinn is being inappropriate, and I apologize for her. And Simon? He’s not that tough.”

“Yes, I am!” he protests, leaning in closer to me. “Now, we have some questions for you, Mr. Kincaid.”

“Hold up,” Ainsley says. “Before we get into the interrogation, what are you idiots doing here? Also, do you know the definition of boundaries?”

“You didn’t answer us today,” Stella says. “We were worried.”

“So you decided to dress up as amateur ninjas and, what, use my location tracker to find out where I was?”

All four of them sit back with guilty looks on their faces.

“We just wanted to make sure you were all right,” Maeve says. “It’s not like you to go radio silent.”

“And we saw the pictures and videos,” Quinn says. “You were drinking and singing karaoke. And then there’s this guy, who, the last we heard you just met last week at the hospital and now is your boyfriend. You should have known we were going to come looking for you.”

Ainsley’s shoulders slump a little. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond. It’s just been….well, let’s just say today’s been a little crazy.”

I don’t know if this is the right thing to do, but I don’t think about it as I reach under the table for her hand.

From the little bit I know of Ainsley, this girl does not like to be the center of attention.

And yet here she is, with four interrogation lamps set on her.

When she feels my hand connect with hers, she slowly turns to look at me.

I watch as a little stress leaves her shoulders.

She squeezes my hand back, but doesn’t let go.

“Guys! Look at them!” Stella croons. “They’re freaking adorable!”

Ainsley blushes and turns back to her siblings, but doesn’t let go of my hand. “I’m guessing you guys have questions.”

“Only a thousand,” Stella says.

“Can we just get rid of the elephant in the room and ask when the fuck did you two start dating and why did the internet find out before us?”

Oh shit…what’s our story?

I assume that if her siblings wouldn’t have shown up, we would’ve gotten around to figuring out our story that we’re telling everyone. But we didn’t yet, and judging by the ghostly white color painting Ainsley’s face, she’s not sure what to say.

“That’s my fault, so I’m sorry about that,” I say, giving our joined hands a squeeze, silently hoping to convey that I got this for her. “I don’t like to go public that I’m dating someone until it’s secure, you know? But, unfortunately, snooping cameras and Ainsley’s ex, had other plans.”

“Wait!” Maeve yells. “Why is Jonathan a part of this story?”

“I thought he lived in Texas!” Stella blurts out, looking alarmed.

Ainsley just nods. “He’s back. I didn’t know it until he showed up last night. He obviously didn’t know I was seeing someone, so he got a little close. That’s when Linc stepped in.”

“No wonder you drank,” Quinn says. “I’d be drunk too if my douchebag of an ex showed up out of nowhere.” The look Ainsley shoots her direction suggests Quinn might get drunk for a lot less. Got it—she’s the fun one.

“I prefer to call him Dipshit,” I add, which earns me a smile from Quinn.

“Oh, I like this one, Ainsley.”

God, does this woman go five seconds without blushing? It’s adorable. And it also makes me wonder: if she blushes that easy in her cheeks, does the rest of her body?

No, Linc. Stop. Stop that right the fuck now. She’s your fake girlfriend, emphasis on fake, and you’re meeting her fucking family. Mind out of the goddamn gutter.

“Can we back up a second?” Maeve asks. “Didn’t you two just meet last week? How the heck did you go from strangers to a couple in a week?”

“You want to take this or me?” I ask. To them, I hope it sounds like a simple question. In reality, I need to know if I’m making this shit up or she is.

I see her square her shoulders, and I suddenly feel a wave of pride that she’s going to go out on this limb. Though it’s probably for the best, since I have no idea what she’s told her family.

So I sit back and listen, interested to hear our origin story.

“You’re right, we did just meet at the hospital visit,” she says. “I didn’t think much of it, but then the next day, this guy shows back up again.”

I pick up my cue with a smile. “I did. I didn’t have a chance to get her name or number after she mowed me down and ran away.”

She gasps. “Excuse me? You ran into me .”

“If I remember correctly, you were looking everywhere but ahead. I had the right away.”

“Awwwwww.” I look up to see Stella and Quinn with hearts in their eyes, clear approval of our not-so-fake meet cute. I think we’re halfway to convincing them. Maeve is still keeping an even face. And I wonder if at any point her brother is going to stop scowling at me.

I turn my attention back to Ainsley, who’s now going on about how I asked her for coffee that day.

“Which is when I learned she doesn’t drink coffee.”

My interruption earns me a smile from Ainsley. “Which is also when we pivoted and went to get smoothies.”

When I was young, I’d make up elaborate stories.

More for entertainment than anything. As I got older, those stories became me trying to create alibis for myself, or reasons why it really wasn’t my fault for what I clearly did.

When you’re that kind of liar, it rolls off the tongue, sometimes too easily.

But with Ainsley? I would bet my contract that this woman has never told a lie in her life. Yet, right now, she’s making up our first date, and the days after, like it’s nothing.

I don’t know whether to be proud or frightened.