Page 82 of Just Act Natural

“I don’t need an escape pod, Lila. I’m here for you.”

I can’t help but smile up at him. He’s just sogood. He’s kind and generous and so stinking handsome, I don’t think my stomach has stopped doing backflips since the first time I saw him.

And here he is, sweetly offering to walk into the lion’s den wearing a meat suit and calling,Here, kitty kitty.

“Okay, well…let’s get weird.”

I push the gate open, and we walk the paver path into the back yard. It’s my mom’s pride and joy, an oasis of native plants and evergreen trees. One corner holds a fire pit, already blazing, and another boasts three cozy outdoor sofas around a little table, currently bearing an ice chest full of drinks. It won’t be dark out for a while yet, but Hope and I strung lights overhead, which Mom says will remain a permanent fixture.

Also? The yard is stuffed with people. Family and friends spread out over the space, mingling by the hors-d’oeuvres table on the patio and spilling out over the lawn. The couple of the moment are plastered to each other in the lounge area, surrounded by congratulating guests. It’s festive, cheery, casual fun—exactly what Hope wanted. And yet, I still don’t want to join in.

So much of my life feels like a lie, I can’t tell if it’s fitting or just really, really horrible that I created a fake boyfriendpartially for this event. And is it better or worse that I don’t want a single bit of him to be fake?

Grant squeezes my hand. “You okay, princess?”

I don’t have a chance to respond. Mom’s seen us. She shouts, “Lila!” like she’s Marianne Dashwood spotting Willoughby across a crowded ballroom. Everyone turns to gawk. Any hopes of playing this cool just disintegrated in the fires of her glaring enthusiasm.

She rushes over, snagging my dad away from where he’s talking with Griffin’s brother. Her gauzy pale green dress and half up-do makes her look like a goddess on her way to bless us with fertility.

Which she would absolutely do if it occurred to her.

Dad, of course, is effortlessly handsome in the way older men get to be—looking dapperbecauseof his wrinkles and salt and pepper hair, not in spite of them. Personality-wise, he’s the perfect complement for Mom: calm and cool, where she’s excitable and eager. Kind of like Griffin is for Hope.

I refuse to entertain all the lunatic thoughts that bounce around in my head about whether or not Grant could be that for me.

“We’re so pleased you could make it tonight.” Mom extends a hand to him. “This is my husband Paul. Paul, honey, this is Grant Irwin.”

His name rolls off her tongue like she’s been practicing it. She’s probably written our names side by side, too, just to see how they look.

“Nice to meet you, Grant.” The two shake hands. “Although, I have to admit I’m a little fuzzy on how you two met. Do I have it right that you don’t live around here?”

I didn’t expect my sweet father to go straight for my jugular like that.

“That’s true. I live in Magnolia Ridge, Texas, a small town north of Austin.”

“Lila’s always talked about visiting Texas,” Mom cuts in.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever said that.” Not that I wouldn’t, but she’s making it sound like it’s my life-long dream.

Her eyes widen in a comically warning look.

“So you’re just here for…” Dad prompts.

“Vacation,” Grant finishes. “I’m staying in the Moonlight Lodge for a few weeks.”

Dad nods, but the fact that he doesn’t seem to have more to say deflates my spirits a bit. He’s obviously sizing Grant up, and I want to jump in to defend him. I’m just not sure from what.

Hope and Griffin join us, and another set of introductions go around. As I suspected, Griffin and Grant—which, by the way, is going to make every interaction they have one big tongue-twister—are dressed pretty similarly. Hope’s coral A-line dress is understated but classy.

It’s their giant twin smiles that let everyone know they’re the guests of honor.

“Congratulations,” Grant tells them. “I wish you every happiness.”

“Thank you.” Griffin pulls Hope snug against him. “I’ve got it.”

She glows like a sunbeam. I’ve never seen her as happy as she’s been these last six months. Between her thriving business, her increasingly popular artwork, and finding the love of her life, she’s had a pretty awesome year.

I lean closer against Grant. I’m doing fine. Or I will be. Soon enough.

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