“Ah. Okay.” He shifted on the bench, and I frowned.
“Are you all right? I know these benches aren’t the most comfortable.” I didn’t like his grandparents sitting out here in the summer sun. Especially since it was on my account that they were here in the first place. Mitch wasn’t going to thank me if his grandparents keeled over while they were here.
But he waved me off. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
Meanwhile, Stacey was still explaining the whole chess match deal to Grandma Malone and Lulu. “Mitch is on the white side, so he’s the white knight.”
“Of course he is,” Lulu murmured, and I snickered in response. She caught my eye and her smile was wide like Mitch’s—there was that Malone DNA. I liked her. Part of me wished I could confess everything to her. She might understand. But no. Mitch had asked me to do this whole girlfriend thing in the first place to make him look good. Telling his family it was an elaborate lie would be the exact opposite.
So instead Stacey and I sat with Mitch’s family as they watched him go through the steps of the chess match. It didn’t take long for me to see that it looked different than the week before. They’d gone back to the original choreography for this one, where he and Simon faced off as the final battle of the show. That must have been what he’d gone to talk to Simon about. This fight was more intricate, and more importantly Mitch won this one. Of course he wanted to show off for his grandparents.
This was the same choreography I’d seen on his phone, more than once, but it was another thing entirely to see it in person. Mitch’s enormous sword clashed with Simon’s more slender pirate’s rapier. Before long they’d disarmed each other and had resorted to hand-to-hand fighting. Then Simon flipped Mitch over his shoulder, and that kilt flying was an amazing thing to behold, even with the shorts underneath. When Mitch landed on his feet, dropping into a crouch before spinning back to Simon again, Grandma Malone clapped in delight, and her pure enjoyment did something to me. A sweet spark inside my chest that both filled me with happiness and made my heart ache. His family really did love him. How could he think otherwise?
The fight ended with Simon on his knees in the grass while Mitch held a dagger to his throat. Grandpa Malone let out a piercing whistle as he joined the rest of the crowd in applause.
“Wait a second.” Lulu turned to me, eyes narrowed. “Where did he get the knife from?”
“You don’t want to know,” I deadpanned. Grandma Malone snorted.
“His boot,” Stacey said, whacking me on the shoulder with a giggle. “That cousin of yours is very crafty.”
“Huh,” she said. “I missed that part.” She clapped harder, yelling, “Do it again!”
Mitch had just helped Simon up from the ground, both men breaking character for a moment, and he turned at the sound of his cousin’s voice. The force of his smile was blinding, and I lost my breath. He was breathing hard, chest heaving with exertion from performing in the sun, and sweat glistened on his golden skin. I tried hard to not look. It wasn’t going well.
The show ended shortly after that, and Mitch scooped his sword from the ground before joining us. “Grrrandparents!” His voice was booming and very Scottish, and Lulu practically doubled over in laughter at the sound of it.
Grandma Malone got to her feet, grinning at Mitch’s arrival. “Mitch, that was—” Before she could finish her sentence he’d scooped her up, lifting her off the ground in an exuberant yet careful hug, making her squeal. “What are you . . . put me down!” But she was giggling like a little girl when he set her back on her feet. She poked him in the chest, pretending to scold him. “You are all sweaty.”
Stacey tsked at him while trying not to laugh herself. “Hauling your grandmother around like a sack of potatoes, what is wrong with you?”
“Yeah,” Lulu said around a wide smile. “Rude.”
“Ach, I’m sure you’re right.” He wasn’t letting up with the accent. “Respect me elders and all that.” But when Lulu went in for a hug he gave her the same treatment, this time spinning her around a couple times. He was showing off. I loved it.
Lulu squawked in delight, clapping a hand to her head to adjust her hat as he put her down. “Knock that off!” She batted at his arm. “I’m your elder too.”
He scoffed. “Five years. Doesna count.”
I held up a hand as he turned to me. “Don’t you dare.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.” His smile was warm and his arm around me was warmer. He didn’t pick me up and swing me around. Instead he hugged me against his side and planted a kiss on my temple. It wasn’t a showing-off kiss, trying to prove something. It was simpler than that, yet more profound: a comfortable declaration that we were together. And even though we were in a crowd, it felt intimate. It felt real.
I’d missed this. I’d missed feeling like Mitch and I were a united front against . . . well, against anything. Every time we did it, we got a little better at it. And every time we did it, it was harder to remember that it was all based on a lie. That at the end of the day, even though Mitch and I looked like a couple that was perfect for each other, we’d soon be going back to normal. And I’d be going home alone.
Being alone used to be the dream, but with Mitch’s arm around me I found myself preferring the lie.
Seventeen
Being left alone, however, was off the menu today.
Mitch stayed with us for a few minutes, but it wasn’t long before Simon called him away. No rest for pirates or Scotsmen around here, apparently. There were a few moments of awkward silence after he left, as I wondered how I could get the hell out of here now that my job was done.
But Grandma Malone turned to me. To me. Why? “What’s next?”
“Next?” I raised alarmed eyebrows to Stacey, who was absolutely loving this.
“Next . . .” She pulled her phone out of a pouch on her belt, checking the time. “Well, if you thought Mitch’s kilt was something, you should come with me. Our next show is about to start, and it’s nice and shady over there. We can get some water on the way.”
“Good idea.” Lulu linked her arm through mine. “Let’s go.”
God. I was never going home.
We made our way down the lane, stopping at the tavern for some cold ciders for Lulu and me, an even colder beer for Grandpa Malone, some sweet mead for Grandma, and icy bottles of water to go for all of us. Emily served us, giving wench’s banter the whole time, while we sat at one of the tables at the tavern to cool off in the shade, Stacey leaving us to head to the Marlowe Stage. By the time we caught up, she had the Dueling Kilts merchandise table set up and was settled behind it, shooting us a little wave as I ushered the grandparents Malone to seats in a shady spot under some trees and made sure they were supplied with water. No grandparents would be dehydrated on my watch.
Watching the Dueling Kilts’ show had been a good call. I hadn’t seen their full set in a while, and I’d forgotten how much fun it was. Honestly, their show was worth the price of admission—it had nothing to do with their association with Stacey, a little bit to do with their talent, and a lot to do with how they all looked in those kilts. Mitch’s family seemed to have a great time, but a low level of panic bubbled up as the show drew to a close. What was I going to do with them now? And why was I in charge of their fun?