Page 77 of The Puck Decoy

The kiss she gives me feels permanent, like she is trying to tell me something without words, except I don’t know what it is. In fact, the only thing I do seem to know lately is that I seem to have developed very real feelings for my very fake wife.

After breakfast, I hand over the gifts I bought for Daemon, a new sketch pad and some pencils, and to my surprise, Hallie hands him a vinyl from one of his favorite operas. He blushed furiously, much to my amusement, before slinking away back to his room to hide away for the rest of the day. Once we are dressed, Hallie questions whether we should check on him before we leave, but I shake my head. I don’t know what his issue with Christmas is, but I do know that he always spends it alone, no matter how hard I try to coax him into it. I know he will be grateful for the gifts from us, but I can’t help but feel bad as we leave the house and he stays behind all alone.

The drive over to Hallie’s parents is familiar enough to me, which is a good thing, because the amount of times my eyesstray from the road over to my wife is a crime. Of course she is fidgeting nervously in her seat, insisting we play the same song on repeat, as she babbles to me about how she knew what to get Daemon for Christmas. She’s nervous, that much is clear, but for the life of me I can’t work out why. Beth and Jeremy are amazing people, and even better parents, it’s why I went straight to them after Thanksgiving, because I knew they’d understand. So, I’m not sure what Hallie is so concerned about.

By the time we arrive, Hallie is talking so fast that I can barely keep up, and when she jumps from the car before letting me open the door, I know something is really up. She rushes towards the front door, but before she can ring the bell, I grab her waist, spin her, and pull her body against me.

“Okay, spit it out, Tink,” I demand, and she tries and fails to put a blank mask on her face, as if I don’t know her by now.

“Spit what out?” she huffs, looking anywhere but at me.

“Whatever the hell is bothering you,” I snap, feeling irritated that we even need to be having this conversation. She’s normally the one person who can tell me anything.

“Nothing is bothering me,” she quickly lies, and I almost laugh at how bad she is at it.

“Now, now, remember the rules, don’t lie to me, baby.” Her eyes soften at the term of endearment, but still she pulls her lip into her mouth and nibbles on it nervously.

“We have to act normal while we’re here,” she breathes, finally staring up at me. “My parents know this is fake remember, so we can’t be you know, touching and kissing in front of them and stuff, they will ask too many questions.”

Her request shouldn’t gut me, no matter how unexpected it is, yet still it does. Of course she’s right, I came to this very house and asked for their permission to commit this ruse and promised them I would protect their daughter, and that nothing would happen to her. Except I happened to her. She sleeps inmy bed almost every night because I insisted on taking her, not caring for the repercussions, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

I release her instantly, already nodding my head. “Sorry, yeah, of course, I wasn’t thinking what it would look like.” I turn away from her, not wanting her to see the look in my eyes, as I reach out and ring the doorbell.

She watches me carefully, but before she can say anything else, her mom is ripping open the door with a wide smile.

“Ah, there you guys are, come in, come in, I’ve been so excited for you to get here,” Beth gushes, ushering us both inside, before pulling her daughter in for a hug. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart,” she greets Hallie, before pushing back and holding her at arm's length, checking her over just like she always does.

When her eyes flick to mine they lighten even more. “Josh, dear, look at you, you get more handsome every time I see you,” she coos, pulling me in for a warm hug of my own, which I can’t help but reciprocate.

“And you get more beautiful,” I tell her truthfully, almost the mirror image of her daughter, and she smiles and rolls her eyes in just the same way as Hallie.

“Hey, you’ve got your own wife now, Peters, stop hitting on mine,” Jeremy calls out, as he walks down the hall from the kitchen. “Looking good, son,” he adds, and I hold my hand out for him to shake, but he bats it aside and pulls me in for a hug just like his wife.

I’ve always liked Hallie’s parents, and for some bizarre reason, they have always liked me too, and I can’t help but feel happy knowing that she had it better than I ever did growing up. “It’s good to see you,” I reply, smacking his shoulder, before we pull apart, and he turns his focus to his daughter.

“There’s my Hallie Bear,” he smiles, cuddling her tight, before pulling back and ushering us all back to the kitchenwith him. “Thank god you’re finally here, your mother has been driving me crazy all morning,” he complains, heading over to the sink to wash his hands. “Why don’t you girls go relax in the den and us men can finish off the cooking.”

Hallie looks at me a little alarmed, but I’m already slipping out of my jacket and rolling up my sleeves.

“Dad, Josh didn’t come here to help you cook,” she complains, looking more nervous than I have ever seen her, and Jeremy looks at her with a smile.

“Hals, this might be the only son-in-law I ever get, I need to get my money’s worth out of him.”

Hallie rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, he won’t be the only son-in-law you ever get,” she sighs dramatically, discarding her own coat.

Oh yes I fucking will be.

“I thought we already covered that I'm going to be the only Mr. Hallie Rose Sanders, Tink, don’t make me let my jealous streak out,” I tell her sternly, and her mother laughs, taking a seat at the counter to watch as I start working beside her husband.

Hallie reluctantly takes the seat next to her, both of them ignoring her father’s request to head to the den. I quietly start chopping up vegetables as Hallie snaps, “No, the only thing we covered is that you’re a psycho.”

I keep my focus on my knife skills as I reply, “I think I’ve been a very calm husband so far.”

Her scoff is adorable. “Oh, is that what we call breaking people’s bones?”

My smile comes easy as I remember how good it felt to feel Joey’s arm break beneath my fingers, I only wish I’d have done it again when we saw him at the rink. “Technically I wasn’t your husband when I did that,” I shrug, as her mom flicks herstare between us in shock, as she gasps in question, “You broke someone's bones?”

Hallie looks delighted at her mom’s interest, turning her stare towards her as if she expects her mom to be on her side. “Remember Joey,” she asks sweetly.

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