“Oh, I know they did. They were a little put out you didn’t join us for dinner that night, you know.”
“Oh no!” My eyes went wide. “I didn’t know I was supposed to . . .”
He waved a hand, cutting me off. “I told them you had plans with Caitlin. Don’t worry about it.”
“What was all that about, anyway?” Stacey asked. “Were you just pretending for their benefit, or what? I was definitely missing something there.”
I took a deep breath, and my eyes met Mitch’s. He shrugged, as if to say, Go ahead.
“Long story short,” I said, “Mitch helped me out at Caitlin’s graduation when my ex showed up . . .”
“Nooo.” Stacey’s eyes went wide, and she looked at Emily, who nodded in confirmation.
“Yep. And Mitch had mentioned to me once that his folks were giving him trouble for still being single. So when his grandparents came to Faire, I returned the favor. That’s it.” I ended the truncated story with a firm nod, not inviting questions. I’d left out as many details as I could about the original event, because Mitch bringing me to his family’s place wasn’t my story to tell. Hopefully he’d appreciate that. My glance across the table was inconclusive; Mitch was looking at me with a furrowed brow that cleared up when he saw me looking at him.
“Yep,” he said. “That’s it.” There was a hollowness to his tone that gave me pause, but no one else seemed to notice. The pizza came then, and topics changed as plates were passed around and filled. Thankfully, with five other people here I stopped being a topic of conversation, and I could eat pizza, drink cider, and steal the occasional mozzarella stick off Emily’s plate when she wasn’t looking.
But of course it didn’t last.
“April, how’s your house coming along?” Simon asked, right when I popped a mozzarella stick in my mouth, of course.
“Good.” I crunched down on the fried cheese, feeling my arteries hardening but not able to bring myself to care. I chewed and swallowed quick. “I’m about to switch out the cabinet doors in the kitchen, and then I think I’ll be about done.” Across the table, Mitch’s face went stony for a split second before his usual pleasant expression went back on like a mask. I raised my eyebrows at him in a question, but he didn’t meet my eyes.
“I’m impressed,” Emily said. “You’ve gotten so much done.”
I shrugged. “Not just me. I had some help.” I didn’t elaborate, and no one asked me to. My phone buzzed just then with a text from Caitlin—she’d gone out with her friends but was home now, and I smiled with relief.
“All good?” Mitch asked from across the table, and I extended my smile to him.
“Yep.” I waved my phone in illustration. “Cait’s in for the night.” He nodded in understanding, and Emily looked from him to me and back again, that wide, nosy smile on her face.
“So, uh, what else is going on there, sis?” Her voice was pitched so low that I had to lean over to hear her. “You get under that kilt yet?”
“Em!” My voice was louder than I’d intended, and she dissolved into giggles. Mitch’s eyes narrowed and a frown crossed his face for a moment before he turned to Daniel, his expression cheerful again.
“So you’re seriously going to drive two hours a day till October? You sure your piece-of-shit truck can handle that?”
“Hey!” Stacey’s laugh belied the offended tone she tried to take, but Daniel just smiled, unflustered.
“That truck may be about the same age as me, but she’s never let me down.”
Stacey sighed, her smile big. “His best friend, that truck.”
“Not my best friend, I’d say.” He slid an arm around Stacey and kissed her hair, and the look they shared made my heart swell. I loved how happy they were. Emily met my eyes and I could tell she was thinking the same thing.
So why was I tearing up? I blinked hard and cleared my throat. “I need to get home.”
Simon checked the time on his phone. “Us too. Tomorrow morning is going to come fast.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s barely nine.” But she kissed her husband on the cheek as he stood to find our server to get the check. I hugged the girls goodbye and waved to Mitch in an elaborately casual way before slipping out the door.
I was hoping to make a clean getaway, but Mitch caught up to me in the parking lot.
“What the hell was that?”
* * *
? ? ?
“What the hell was what?” My heart trembled as I turned around, but I wasn’t going to let him see that. I kept my expression as neutral as possible, but it was no match for Mitch, whose face was made of stone.
“That.” He waved over his shoulder toward the building we’d both left. “That load of bullshit in there.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But I had a sinking feeling that I did. I didn’t want to go into it. Not now. I hunted through my purse for my keys until Mitch stepped closer, putting a hand over mine, stopping my movements.
“You’re hiding me, April. Acting like I didn’t help you with your house. You’re still telling people it’s . . .” His voice faltered, and I looked up in alarm. The stone of his expression had started to crack, and disappointment and hurt peeked through. “You know it’s not fake between us anymore, right? I stopped pretending a long time ago.”
“I . . .” My mind went blank. I wasn’t ready for this.
He threaded his fingers through mine and brought our joined hands to his mouth, brushing a kiss across my knuckles. “You want me to come over later?” There was that voice again, the one that sent heat surging through me and made me want to promise him anything.
“Not tonight.” My voice was a whisper as my apprehension melted. “Caitlin’s home.”
“Right.” He nodded, his eyes still on mine. “But once she’s off to college? What do you think? I could come over at night? On the weekends?”
His voice was hypnotic, and what he promised was delicious. I swallowed hard and nodded, unable to look away from those bluer-than-blue eyes.
“Should I park in the garage? So people don’t know?”
I nodded again, a wave of relief sweeping through me. He got it. He got me. God, I was so lucky. I—
“No.” He dropped my hand and stepped back, and the sudden loss of his heat felt like a slap. The stony expression was back on his face. “You really do want to hide this, don’t you? Hide us? Why?”
“Because . . .” So many reasons. They all whirled through my head, competing for attention, but none of them would make rational sense if I said them out loud. I seized on the last one. Probably the least significant one, which only made me angrier. “Because your truck is fucking ridiculous! It’s like a beacon. I may as well hang a banner outside my house that says I’m banging the gym teacher.” I cringed inwardly as the words flew out of my mouth. That wasn’t what I meant. Worse, it was exactly what I meant.
“Well, you are banging the gym teacher!” He fell back another step, spreading his arms wide, his face twisted. “Sorry, babe. That’s all I am. I thought my family made that clear.” His voice was dripping acid, and it hurt to hear him like this. His family made him feel like shit, even though he never let it show. And now I was doing the same thing. He didn’t deserve that. Not from me. Not from anyone.