Page 65 of Imperfect Arrangement

“It’s my nana,” I croak, staring at the screen like it might explode. “She’s gonna kill me.”

Raymond quirks a brow, amusement softening his sharp features for a beat. “I didn’t peg you for the dramatic type.”

“You have no idea what she’s capable of,” I snap, getting out of bed. “Your house isn’t exactly off-limits to her. Maybe I’ll…leave town. Just for a bit.” I pace the room, the blanket trailing behind me like some tragic cloak.

I know I’m probably beingdramatic, as Raymond so conveniently pointed out, but when it comes to Nana, I have no idea how far she’ll go when pissed off. No one’s been brave enough to test that…until now.

But before I can storm off with half-formed plans of fleeing Cherrywood swirling in my head, Raymond catches my arm. The pull is unrelenting and forceful, and I spin too fast. The next thing I know, I’m colliding with him—hard.

My hands splay against his chest, the solid warmth of him searing through his jacket. I freeze as the subtle scent of his cologne—cedarwood and lavender—floods my senses. It’s manly—exactly what one would expect from Raymond. My lips land on the hollow of his throat, and I know I’ll feel the phantom prickle of his five o’clock shadow for days.

His arms wrap around my waist, firm but not restraining, and I’m hit with a sense of safety I didn’t realize I craved. The feeling is so foreign, it almost undoes me.

“I can’t imagine you being afraid of anyone, Firefly,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.

A shiver courses through me, completely betraying the frantic pace of my heart. It’s too much. All of it. His voice, his scent, the way he’s holding me like he’s trying to protect me from the world.

“You’d be surprised,” I rasp, my voice barely above a whisper.

My phone buzzes again, breaking the spell, dragging me back to reality. Raymond releases me slowly, his hands lingering, making my knees weak.

“No running, okay?” he says, his green eyes locking on mine.

I nod, unable to do much else. He steps back, taking with him the cocoon of security I hadn’t realized I’d wrapped myself in.

He holds my still-ringing phone with Nana’s name flashing like a neon warning. I instinctively shove my hands behind my back and shake my head. Raymond lifts an eyebrow at my immediate retreat. Yeah, he can be surprised all he wants—I’m not touching that phone. He sighs and puts it on speaker, shoving the microphone toward my face. I seal my lips tighter, determined to outlast Nana’s wrath, until it hits.

“Willow Billow Pershing!”

Crap. My middle name. My freaking middle name. I shut my eyes on reflex. Why does she have to use that word?

I thought we had a pact that no one was allowed to use it. Like ever. When Gramps gave me that silly name, thinking it’d be fun, he had no idea it’d someday become a sign of mockery and I’d hate it.

“You got engaged! You got fucking engaged without even consulting me? Did you forget your nana is still alive?”

I crack one eye open and glance at Raymond. His expression is priceless—wide-eyed and baffled.Welcome to the family drama, Mr. Teager.

I give him a pointed look before telling myself,“Deep breath, Wills. You’ve got this.”

“Hi, Nana,” I start, my voice shaky. “Did you see Whispering Willow is on the news? That’s exciting, right?”

Even Raymond snorts at my feeble attempt to redirect the conversation.

“Don’t try to act smart with me, Lolo. I’mveryupset right now. Who is this man? Do you love him? Are you?—”

“Nana, I just woke up. Can we talk in a few minutes?”

“Willow—”

“I’m sorry, Nana. We’ll talk later.” And I stab the red button like my life depends on it.

The silence that follows is deafening. For a beat, neither of us moves, then Raymond exhales a long, heavy breath, like he’s been holding it in forever.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “But I can’t tell her—or my mom—the truth. They’d never let me go through with this.”

“Shit,” he mutters, gripping the back of his neck and throwing his head back. “I hate that we have to lie to them.”

“What about your family? Your parents?”