Page 36 of Just (Fake) Married (Calloways vs. McGraws #1)

“Oh, I noticed you,” he said. “I noticed you plenty when all anyone could talk about was how you punched me in the pantry. Did I ever say I was sorry?”

“A million times,” I groaned.

“No. Did I ever apologize for not remembering that night? For being so drunk I forgot what had to be an epic kiss?”

“Why epic?” I asked, softly.

“Because safe kissing you is pretty amazing, so I have to imagine that really kissing you would blow my mind,” he said, with a mischievous chuckle.

You know when you’re a kid and you fall asleep on the couch, or the backseat of the car, and you wake up for just a second and you hear the hum of your parents voices? And it’s comforting. You think, I’m safe. Here.

Ethan’s laughter was like that.

Like a hug.

“Let’s just get back to cleaning out some of these boxes,” I said, making sure we were focused on the business at hand.

Because of course, this was my life, the next box I opened was a box of vibrators.

Jesus, Mary and Tom Hanks.

“What?” he asked, looking at my face. He stepped closer so he could look in the box. “Holy shit,” he laughed.

“My sisters used to do all these direct sales parties. Skin care and cooking stuff. Jewelry. Well, their last one was selling vibrators to women at bachelor parties.” I went to shut the box but he kept it open.

“My brother mentioned that,” he said.

“It went gangbusters for about a year and then tapered off when everyone in town that was marrying age got married.”

“So, these are the vibrators no one wanted?” He asked, lifting up a box that highlighted multiple speed settings.

“They’re waiting for the next round of bachelorette parties,” I said. It was cyclical in the Gulch, every three years, we had a wedding boom, and then a year later, a baby boom, like cicadas.

Or at least, that’s how it used to be. If we pulled off this festival, it might be again.

“Do you have one of these?” he asked, and I refused to look at him. “You do!” he cried. “Which one?” he asked. He held up another one that said dual stimulator.

I had both. But I was NEVER telling him that.

“I was supporting my sisters,” I said, with so much blood in my face I couldn’t feel my feet.

“Did you bring it with you to my house?” he asked.

“I don’t think that’s your business,” I said primly. But yes, I’d put my vibrators in my bag, in part, because I didn’t want my mom to find them while I was gone. It was one thing living with your mom at my age, it was another thing all together when she found your vibrators.

“Oh,” he laughed. “I’m making it my business.”

This time his laughter didn’t make me feel safe. Nope. I felt endangered. Like I was blind and walking right off a cliff.

“I’m going to take these things down to my truck,” I said, referring to the boxes of my sisters’ stuff. I needed to get away from him and these four walls. It was getting hard to breathe.

“These boxes, too?” he asked, pointing to Bliss’s stack.

“Yeah, but I…”

“I’m here to help,” he said, and grabbed two of the boxes, stacked on top of each other. “Stop thinking you need to do everything by yourself.”

It would be easy, I thought, to get used to this. Carpooling, casual drop-ins with liver treats. The look in his eyes like he was proud of me.

Just another reason I had to force myself to remember this was all temporary.

Because I was cleaning out this apartment for myself. For my future.

My future without him.

We headed over to the café first, where, luckily, it was between the lunch and dinner rush and both my sisters were here on a break. Amity was working on her laptop behind the counter and Bliss had a mug of coffee in front of her.

Because Bliss didn’t have a rule about not drinking coffee after noon. Of course she didn’t. Bliss lived recklessly. Rules were made to be broken and consequences were just part of having a good time.

Ethan followed me inside the café carrying a bunch of boxes. “Where do you want these?”

“You can put them over there,” I said, pointing. “Behind the counter for now.”

“Hey, what’s all this?” Amity asked, walking over to inspect the first box. “Ooh. I forgot I had cups. And matching napkins!”

Bliss was also sniffing through the boxes. “Wow, I forgot about this skin care line I was trying to sell. This stuff used to be gold.”

“If you don’t need me for any more heavy lifting,” Ethan said. “I’ll head over to the clinic and check in there.”

“Heavy lifting in the morning, doctoring in the afternoon,” I said. “You’re like Superman.”

Then his eyes focused on mine. “Ask me what I like to get up to in the evenings?”

I smiled, but refused to answer.

He leaned toward me and kissed me once on the forehead. Again, on the high side of my right cheek bone. He hesitated for a second, and then, yep, a boop on the nose. My breath caught and I tried to hide it.

“Oh good. No boogers,” he chuckled. “See you at home tonight. Ladies,” he said, acknowledging my sisters before leaving the café.

“Oh, no. Oh, no,” Bliss said, pointing a finger in my direction.

“What?” I asked. “I’m just getting rid of your crap. When all of this is over, I’m thinking I might move out of Mom’s place.”

“That is not what I’m talking about,” Bliss said, then looked over at Amity for confirmation.

“Yep, I saw it too,” Amity said. “You got the C&C, and just from a couple of non-kisses!”

“I did not!” I protested. There wasn’t anyone else in the café except the cook in the back, so I lowered my voice. “We do the safe kissing thing in public so people will think we’re real.”

Bliss snorted. “There is nothing safe about those kisses.”

“You should see your face,” Amity said, like she was disappointed in me. “You’re practically melting and it’s freezing outside. Those bastard McGraws.”

“It’s not Ethan’s fault,” I said, defending him. “I just…like him. Is that so horrible?”

Bliss and Amity exchanged another look. When they turned back to me, they had more sympathy.

“Fine,” Bliss said. “If you’re looking for permission to get naked with your husband, we’ll give it to you.”

“I’m not!” I said, too quickly. Then felt my cheeks light on fire.

“She’s already done it!” Amity cried. “Tell us everything.”

“No,” I said.

“Blink once if it was good. Blink twice it if was unbelievable,” Bliss demanded.

I shook my head at both of them.

“If you don’t,” Bliss said. “I’ll tell Mom you’re falling for your fake husband.”

I blinked my eyes a million times.

“Atta girl,” Amity said.

“You don’t think it’s a bad idea?” I asked them both.

“Oh, for sure it’s a bad idea,” Amity laughed. “But, well, the C&C was always our rule about what really mattered. You can’t ignore those types of feelings because they don’t happen all the time.”

“What if it hurts when he leaves? What if he breaks my heart?”

“You’ll survive,” Amity sighed, with a sad smile. “We’re Calloways. It’s what we do.”