Page 79 of Puck Love

“Geez, we’re a couple of head cases.” He laughed.

“Just do me a favor and don’t invite me to your wedding.”

“Deal. Don’t invite me to yours either.”

I snorted. “Oh, please. No one in their right mind would marry me, Milligan.”

“True, but you’re rich,” he teased.

“And I’m hung.”

Jake snickered. “Sure, but?—”

“Jake! Jake! Jake!”

We swiveled on the picnic bench as three kids barreled into the yard via the side gate, followed closely by Smitty.

I schooled my features into what I hoped passed as casual surprise and delivered a clandestine nudge under the table to Jake, who was seemingly frozen in place.Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

We should have had a plausible excuse on hand in the unlikely event we’d get caught in a situation like this, but we didn’t and…now one of us was going to have to wing it, and it sure as hell wasn’t Jake. Poor guy was freaked the fucked out.

“I’m interested in buying property here, and I invited myself over just as you’d fired up the grill,” I said in a low voice, jumping up to greet the newcomers. “Yo, it’s the Milligan-Paluchek brigade!”

I fist-bumped Nathan, gave Charlotte a high five, and picked Ella up and tossed her in the air before braving a glance at their dad. I liked to think I was pretty good at reading people, but Smitty wasn’t giving me any clues under his dark sunglasses.

He tilted his chin my way and cast a curious look toward the grill. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to interrupt dinner. We were in the neighborhood, and the kids wanted to say hi.”

“We saw your car and smoke in your yard,” Charlotte interjected. “We thought you were having a party without us.”

“Want to see my cartwheel?” Ella skipped onto the lawn, her big sister at her heels.

Nathan examined the plates of food. “I love corn on the cob. Can I have one?”

Jake jolted out of his silent stupor and nodded profusely. “Yeah, sure. I made too much food and Mason showed up and?—”

“Who’s Mason?” Nathan asked, flopping next to his brother on the bench.

Oh, wow.This wasn’t going well.

I raised my hand. “Me. Jakey only calls me that when he’s grumpy.”

“You don’t seem grumpy. Are you grumpy?” Nathan reached to grab an ear of corn, but at the last second glanced at Smitty for permission. “Can I have one, Dad?”

“No, we’re not staying. Papa is expecting us home for dinner and?—”

“Stay,” I intercepted. “I was on my way out, anyway. Thanks for showing me around, Jake. I’ll have to get in touch with your dad about visiting properties in the area.”

I really doubted Smitty bought the flimsy excuse, but I didn’t have an alternative one, and my presence was making this awkward. I supposed we should be grateful they hadn’t shown up an hour earlier when we’d been buck naked and grunting like cavemen in heat.

I waved to the kids, stumbled through a good-bye to Jake and Smitty, and headed for the gate. Of course, I immediately had to backtrack and rescue my keys and phone from the house, so that was…not good.

None of this was good. Poor Jake.

I felt guilty, but what were we gonna do? Tell the truth? Would he ever want anyone to know? Would I? From a career perspective, no. But personally, was I someone he’d want to introduce to his family? Or was this all way too much, too soon?

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