Page 42 of Falling for your Fake Boyfriend

Luke cleared his throat. “Right, I guess you’re in good hands, then.” He looked at me for a long moment, and it seemed he badly wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, his fingers lightly trailed along my arm, leaving plenty of heat behind, then he left the kitchen.

Gretchen hurried off to get the tea, and I pressed the ice against my face. A big bruise on my face, just what I needed for my singing debut.

ChapterTwenty

Luke

Ifinally found a few minutes alone inside. I slipped behind the bar counter and poured myself a shot of whiskey. Most of the guests had left the veranda to make their way downstairs for the party. Bryan had followed Hazel into her favorite room, the library. I’d checked on both of them. She stroked Bryan’s hair as he slept with his head in her lap. This might set my baby brother back a few cocky notches. Facing your mortality will do that to you. My mom looked shaken right after, but she was once again flitting around the house shouting orders and stressing out the staff.

I sat down with my glass of whiskey. The chair was tucked in a dark corner of the room, so Rachel didn’t notice me sitting there. She released a huge sigh as she strolled across the room and headed straight to the bar.

“If you’re sighing because you thought you finally found some time to yourself, I’m sorry to disappoint you. And I released the exact same sigh just minutes ago.”

“I guess if my solitude has to be interrupted, then I’m glad it’s you.” Rachel walked over with a splash of whiskey in her glass. She plopped down next to me. “I missed the whole trauma. Is Bryan all right?”

“I saw him curled up a like a little boy with his head in Grandma’s lap.” The liquor felt smooth as it went down my throat.

“Thank goodness you decided to pull this little prank on Mom. Otherwise, it could have been a very different ending to the night. Where is Isla now?”

“I left her in the kitchen. Gretchen was giving her vanilla tea and chocolate tarts. Grandma came in and hugged Isla. She was very emotional.” I decided not to mention the scolding she gave me. I was still trying to untangle it from my own feelings.

We both sat in silence, the silence we’d both been craving when we ducked into the room, finishing our drinks.

“I might need a second go.” Rachel hopped up. She put out her hand to refill my glass as well. I handed it to her readily.

“I wish I hadn’t done this,” I said.

Rachel poured the whiskey and returned with the glasses. “Done what?”

“I wish I hadn’t dragged Isla into this world. You know—bizarro world.” I lifted my glass, and we clinked them together.

“It does seem kind of unfair. Not like you, really.”

I shot back the rest of the whiskey and even had thoughts of a third round. “It’s Mom’s fault. She pushes and she’s relentless and she’s—she’s such a constant thorn.”

“She is and I’ll be glad when this wedding is over, so we won’t have to have ourwedding meetingsanymore.” She pressed her hand against her stomach. It was concave because she’d lost so much weight for the wedding. “I think she gave me an ulcer. What kind of mom gives her daughter an ulcer?”

“Once you and David get settled into the new place, you won’t have to see her as much.”

My mention of moving into the new house with David made her sink lower into the cushions. I looked over at her. There was no radiant, smiling glow, the kind you’d expect from a bride-to-be. “Rach?”

“What have I done?” she said so quietly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear.

“It’s not too late,” I said.

“Yes, it is, Luke. You don’t understand. You stay far away in your bachelor bubble and barely take notice of this family.”

I sat forward. “How am I suddenly the villain?”

“You’re not. Sorry. I’m just tired. Mom overbooked this weekend. I’m going downstairs. Are you coming?”

I was still stinging from her rebuke. It seemed I was in the line of fire a lot tonight. “I’ll be down soon. Might go for thirds.”

Rachel walked out. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. All I could think about was finishing this damn weekend and heading back home. I texted Isla. “How are you doing? How is the cheek? No one will blame you if you decide to skip the party tonight.”

There was no response. I couldn’t blame her. She was sick of this whole thing and of me. And that made me feel even worse. I definitely needed that third round.

The party was already in full swing and the singing had started. My Aunt June’s clear and slightly off-tune voice carried along the corridor. I instantly looked around for Isla, hoping she’d come down anyway. She was tiny, but she was still easy to spot in a crowd because she carried a sort of glow with her wherever she went. I didn’t see her, but Mom zeroed in on me the second I stepped into the room.

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