Page 55 of The Fake Date (Brides of Beaufort 4)

Me: Bummer for them, but uh, I was hoping if you were free you’d do me a favor. As per our arrangement, of course.

Lyndi: What kind of favor?

Me: Will you come to New Orleans with me to see my dad? He wants to “meet my girl.”

The seconds crawled by without a response from her, and even though I attempted to chitchat with Grant while I waited, my eyes kept drifting to my phone.

Finally, the screen lit up, and I snatched the phone off the table to see what she’d said.

Lyndi: For how long?

Me: Friday to Sunday, I guess. It’s a ten-hour drive, and I’ll need to get special permission to go that far, but I don’t want to stay longer than necessary.

She hadn’t given me a no, but I hadn’t gotten a yes yet, either. Again, I waited with way too much nervousness while she took her sweet time replying.

Lyndi: Well, I guess it’s only fair. You’re coming to a wedding out of town with me.

My heart rate shot through the roof as I read and re-read the words on the screen.

Me: So, is that a yes?

Lyndi: It’s a very hesitant yes. I’m not the best travel companion, but I’ll deal with it. For you.

Lyndi: I mean, as per our arrangement.

I let out a chuckle at the way she’d sent that second text almost immediately, and I pictured her cringe when she did it. When Grant looked at me funny, I just waved him off and went back to the phone.

Me: Thanks. We’ll have fun. I promise.

* * *

Ipulled up next to the curb in front of Lyndi’s bungalow Friday morning, eager to get this show on the road. The sooner we got to New Orleans, the sooner we could put on a good show for my pops. And the sooner we did that, the sooner we could take care of her family. Then we could let this whole thing fizzle into a fakelong-distancerelationship, and eventually be done with it altogether.

Halfway to the front door, I paused, jamming my hands in my pockets. This was insane. Why hadn’t I just let Ms. Hattie attempt to set Lyndi up with her son? Why had I played right into her hand by interjecting? I could have let that relationship go nowhere fast, and Lyndi and I would still be hovering around each other’s worlds, neither one of us intending to step in for our own reasons.

But now? Now I was picking her up to take her to my childhood home for the weekend. To meet my pops and let her see a side of me I didn’t show anyone. Why was this a better idea?

Almost like she knew I was here, Lyndi opened the door and poked her head out. “Morning.”

I forced my feet to move toward her as she heaved a carry-on sized suitcase onto the porch. “Morning. I got this.”

Her lips flattened into a tight line as I picked up the bag. “Thanks.”

“Be honest, how many books are in here?”

“Only a couple,” she said with a laugh. “But don’t ask me to tell you how many are on my Kindle, because I’m pretty sure you don’t wanna know.”

“You’re probably right.” We headed toward the car, and I popped the trunk, placing her bag inside before closing it with a thud. “You ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

I moved past her to open the passenger door, ignoring the way the familiar scent of her fruity body wash made my brain light up. “Don’t sound so excited.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, pausing to look at me before she lowered herself into her seat. “I don’t mean to be a downer. This might be fun. Normally, I love to travel.”

I snorted and closed her door, then went to my side and got in. “Normally, you love to travel… but you don’t think you will with me?”

“No, it’s not that. I guess it’s just because I’ve always traveled with Layla, and we have our routines and stuff. I always know what to expect.”