“Quick question,” Maggie had said on tiptoe, her mouth hovering close to his ear because with the chattering crowd, it was difficult to hear yourself think. “Do we need a cover story?”
“What do you mean?” he said back. He felt her shiver, and knew that his beard was probably tickling her neck. “Sorry. I put in beard oil and everything . . .”
“No worries,” she rasped. She cleared her throat. “What I mean is, I’ve just shown up as your date. Did you want me to say I’m your friend? Or did you want me to be your girlfriend—fake relationship?”
He blinked, pulling back enough to study her face and see if she was joking. She looked serious as a tax attorney. He couldn’t help himself; he laughed anyway.
“Do you really think you can make that kind of a stretch?” he asked, close to her ear. “I didn’t think you were that kind of an actress.”
She smirked back, even as he noticed a faint flush creeping along her neck and jawline. With the noise and the crowd, she was snuggled up to his side, and he automatically put his arm around her waist, fitting her to him. It was amazingly comfortable. And a little arousing . . . which compounded when he thought about her, how she knew what he was like, and now they were here together. It was like butterflies on meth in his stomach, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
I am definitely going to examine that more closely. Soon.
She grinned, shifting her weight from one heel-clad foot to another, in a surprisingly mesmerizing motion. “I pretended to be happily married for years,” she said, with an impish grin. “I can pretend to be in love with you for a night.”
He grinned—until the import of what she had started with hit him like a slap. “Years?”
She winced. “Sorry. Ignore me,” she murmured. “I’m just saying, for one night? For you? I could be Meryl fucking Streep.”
He knew that her ex had been an asshole, but that long? He would definitely ask her more about that later. “I guess we can just say we’re friends, and you didn’t think you could make it, but then something happened where you could?”
“Sure, I can do that.”
Someone shoved his way to the bar, and Aiden pulled Maggie more protectively against him. “Sorry,” he repeated.
She was looking up at him, her eyes huge somehow, her breathing shallow. Her smile was bright. “S’okay,” she assured him.
“I figure we can get through dinner, maybe a few dances, and then we can bolt,” he said, close to her jawline. He wrapped his other arm around her, because . . . well, it seemed fitting? Especially given the sardine-packing job the bar was currently. If it hadn’t been fifteen degrees Fahrenheit out, they might’ve gone outside and gotten more of a breather.
“I’m at your disposal,” she murmured back in his ear. Now it was his turn to shiver. “You can take as much time as you need.”
He grimaced. “Were you planning on staying, or driving back tonight?” He knew she didn’t like driving in the dark, and with the cold and the ice, he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with her driving back nervous.
“I didn’t really think this through—a little bit impulsive,” she admitted. “I can get a room, though.”
“Um . . . actually,” he admitted, “the hotel’s booked up. The wedding’s pretty big.”
She looked at him indulgently, and for a split second, he thought about offering his room. The king deluxe room, with the fireplace and claw-foot tub.
And just the one king bed.
“You realize there’s a Best Western not fifteen minutes away from here?” she pointed out with a grin.
“Um . . . oh. Right.” He felt like a dork. “That makes sense.”
She shook her head as Jason’s father yelled, “Grub’s on! Go find your tables!”
Which led to the second hurdle: dinner. The tables were set for six, stylish rectangles with black-and-silver tablecloths and centerpieces of silver candles and black-and-white chess pieces and bits of quartz and other pretty stones. At their table, he was with his mother again, as well as Davy and Sheryl. Riley rounded out the number. He greeted Aiden with a wink and a bro hug.
“I switched seat numbers,” he said in a low voice. “Which put your cousin Robert at a table full of hot girls. But I got your back, bro. You’re welcome.”
Aiden shook his head.
“Who’s this?” Davy asked, surveying Maggie with surprise.
“My date was able to show up after all,” he began, only to have his mother step in.
“You said you didn’t have a date!” Her tone was accusatory.
He shook his head. “I asked Maggie, but she thought she wouldn’t be able to make it,” he said, his voice tight. He knew his mother recognized Maggie from one time, when Maggie had helped him walk the Pomeranian his mother had been dog-sitting, and they’d dropped off lunch from Annabel’s. He shrugged, trailing off, hoping that would be enough. “But it worked out. This is Maggie Le.”
He watched as Maggie transformed. He was used to her scowl, her sharp smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Now, she still had the twinkle, but it was like she’d turned into some slightly shy, polite, personable creature.
It was kind of fascinating, and a little creepy, if he was honest.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said to the table, with just the right amount of enthusiasm and a smile that would’ve turned Scrooge into a softie, no ghosts required. “Aiden’s told me so much about you.”
“Funny,” Sheryl said, arching an eyebrow. “He’s never mentioned you.”
Fuck.
To her credit, Maggie never missed a beat. “You must be Sheryl,” she said. “Which would make you Davy? And it’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Bishop.”
His mother pursed her lips, nodding in acknowledgment. Davy just looked startled.
“And that guy down there is obviously Riley,” Aiden finished.
“We’ve met,” she said, with a wry smile. Riley grinned unrepentantly.
They sat down, and the servers swooped in with appetizers. Grilled-cheese “bites” served with a cup of tomato soup, and flatbread with figs and feta and some kind of balsamic drizzle. Hailey’s family had pulled out all the stops for this wedding, it looked like.
“So you weren’t able to make it to the rehearsal dinner,” his mother said. “What happened to get you here now?”
Aiden’s stomach tightened. Nothing like diving right into it.
“I thought I’d have to work,” Maggie said. “But I finished and drove down this morning. The roads were better than I expected, and there wasn’t much traffic, so I was in luck. I’m just glad I could make it in time.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed. “I’m surprised he even asked you.”
He suppressed a groan. Jeez, Mom, really? “I wanted Maggie here. The whole time.”
Now the whole table was staring at him—Maggie included.
He cringed at himself.
Maggie shrugged. “We’re good friends,” she said, acting as if he’d wisely kept his mouth shut. Which he should have. “He’s my best friend in Fool’s Falls, really.”