Page 41 of Playing Along

Hey, gorgeous, I was thinking of you so I decided to bring you lunch—surprise!

Close your eyes, okay, now open. A friend needed somewhere to board his horse for the summer and he said you can ride him whenever you want—surprise!

I got us tickets to go see that production of Phantom of the Opera you wanted to see—surprise!

I love you and I want to marry you—surprise!

Okay, maybe he didn’t say surprise for that last one, but nonetheless I was completely surprised at the time. The one bad surprise in our relationship.

I shake this negative thought away and focus back on Jack. He has a surprise for me. And I am so here for that!

“Aww, a surprise,” Lucy gushes. “How fun.”

“And completely uncharacteristic,” Anderson comments, one eyebrow popped up as he studies Jack.

“That’s not true,” Mel says as she loops her arm through his. “Sure he doesn’t plan many surprises now, but remember how often he used to plan surprises for Nora when they were dating? He was the master of surprises. Only for her, but still. He had some really good ones.”

Jack’s cheeks darken with embarrassment at this assessment of his prior self. I stare at him as a warm feeling unfurls in my stomach.

“You only plan surprises for me?” I whisper to him.

“It’s not a big deal,” he grunts, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Who else am I going to surprise? Anderson? The man sleeps with one eye open. Montgomery would probably karate chop my butt if I tried to surprise him and it went wrong. And Stafford–”

“I love surprises,” Stafford interjects. “You can surprise me anytime, bro.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jack replies dryly, looking away from me to focus on Stafford. I don’t take my eyes off of him, though. I’m too full of wonder at this newfound discovery. Here I thought planning surprises was part of Jack’s natural tendencies, but no, it was all for me. Talk about making a woman feel special. Suddenly I’m fighting a dreamy sigh.

Thankfully I win the fight and the dreamy sigh stays contained in my chest. Can’t have my new husband thinking he has that type of effect on me now, can I?

“Well come on then,” Lucy says impatiently. “Let’s go see the surprise. Assuming we’re invited,” she adds as an afterthought. “Is this a private surprise?”

“No, you guys can all see it,” Jack replies smoothly. “Come on out to the parking lot.”

“Speaking of the parking lot,” Mel says as we all head toward the front of the building, “we found your phone, Reynolds. My app says it’s somewhere in your car.”

“My car?” Jack feigns surprise. “Of course. It must’ve fallen out of my pocket.”

“That’s what Nora said too,” Mel agrees. Whew. Nice to know that we’re capable of lining up our stories on the fly.

“I’ll take a poke around under the seats after,” he says. After? After what? Excitement simmers inside me. We’ve reached the front doors and Jack pushes one open, holding it for me to walk through. I step out into the sunshine and my mouth falls open.

There, waiting by the curb to the parking lot, is a horse drawn carriage with a “Just Married” banner attached to the back. A smiling older gentleman in a top hat stands at the ready, one hand on the little half door between us and the seats.

“Oh my goodness,” I hear Emily breathe behind us.

“A horse drawn carriage,” Lucy squeals.

“It’s just like in Gilmore Girls when Luke and Lorelei go on a ride together,” Mel whispers.

I don’t say anything. Can’t say anything. This is too much. So far above the standards required of a fake husband. He’s blurring the lines between fiction and reality again and I can’t keep up.

But then Jack steps up next to me, looking down at me with a clear question in his eyes. “Well?” he asks, and I know he’s asking if I like it.

Duh. Of course I like it. He knows as well as I do that anything with horses involved is a win for me. Even as we speak my hands are itching to go pet the noses of the two beautiful Clydesdales attached to this carriage. To place my forehead against theirs and exhale away the stress of the last day.

But I can’t say any of that to Jack. I refuse to be a co-conspirator in his line-blurring crimes.

My heart needs to stay firmly on the this-is-all-fake side of things. Which is why instead of thanking him for the perfect surprise I ask in a low whisper, “How much did this cost, Jack?”

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