Page 31 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

“Grilled cheese? Yes!” Ryder drops the horse with a clatter onto the tiled floor and scrambles up the stool on the other side of the kitchen island. “That’s my favorite.”

“I know.” Removing the sandwich from the skillet, I set it on a plate with a sliced apple, carrot chips, and some rolled lunch meat. Then I slide it in front of him. “Eat up, kid. Lexi will be here to babysit in about fifteen minutes.”

He squints up at me from underneath the brim of his hat. “She’s fun, but I wish you and Daddy didn’t have to go somewhere tonight. I thought we were gonna watchGarfield.”

“We’ll do that tomorrow night, okay?” I tip the hat up enough to lean in and give him a kiss on the forehead. “Tonight Daddy and I have to celebrate Miss Chloe and Mr. Freddy’s engagement.”

“That means they’re getting married, right?”

“Sure does.” I swipe a carrot from his plate and shove it in my mouth.

He chomps on an apple. “How’s come nobody celebrated your engagement to Daddy then?”

A piece of carrot lodges in my throat. I cough, grabbing my drink tumbler to suck down some water. “Well.” How to navigate this? So far, Ryder’s just accepted the facts: that I decided to become Daddy’s roommate, and the best way to do that was to get married. Curious as he normally is, he hasn’t asked more questions—until now. Where’s Jordan when I need him? “Our marriage happened kind of quickly, and it’s different than Chloe and Frederick’s because we were such good friends beforehand.”

He studies me with his big eyes while he chews. The smell of butter and cheese turns my stomach as I wait for his next question. Lying to this little boy is not an option. I may go back and forth about whether it was a good idea to get married in the first place, but this is something that takes no decision-making, because I willnotdamage him or make him distrust me and Jordan later when we end up with an annulled marriage. Answering his questions just might require some…creativity.

But instead of asking anything more, he just shrugs. “Okay.” Then he takes a big bite of the sandwich, pulling a string of melted cheese away from his teeth and giggling. “Look, Lee-Lee. It’s like lava.”

Man, I love this kid. The joy he finds in the simple things. “Tasty lava, I hope.”

He flashes me a thumbs up. “Oh, yeah. So good!”

The doorbell rings, and I leave him to keep eating. Pulling the door open, I find Marla’s blonde-headed, nineteen-year-old granddaughter standing there, a few board games in her arms. “Hey, Lexi. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course!” Her tall lanky figure steps past me. “I love hanging with Ryder.”

“Ryder, look who’s here.” I shut the door.

He leaps from the stool and practically tackles Lexi, who laughs as she sets the board games on the counter and stoops to give him a full hug. “What’s up, dude? I brought a few new games for us to play tonight.”

“Sweet!” He pumps a fist. “First, I gotta finish my dinner, though.”

“You do that.” She turns to me, and I give her a few instructions for the evening, though clearly she’s got this handled.

“I need to go finish getting ready, and then I’ll take off. Probably be home around ten or eleven if that’s okay?”

“Totally fine.” She pats a messenger bag that looks extra full, probably with textbooks, since Lexi is attending online community college. “I’ve got to study for a test, so I’ll be up late regardless.” She tilts her head. “Is Mr. Carmichael meeting you there? Congrats on your marriage, by the way.”

“Thank you.” And there it is again, that flutter of something in my stomach. Maybe just worry, that I’ll have to lie, have to figure out the right thing to say in front of a whole town full of people I care about. “And yes, he’s been working all day and is meeting me there.”

“Great.” Without asking anything else, she sits on the stool next to Ryder and starts talking to him about his day.

I breathe a sigh of relief and head to the bedroom—the one I still feel a bit strange taking over. Even though the sweet smell of my aloe vera lotion now lingers in the air, my jewelry is spread on top of the dresser, my shoes kicked in the corner, my bra hanging haphazardly over a chair, the room is still thoroughly masculine, with its dark wood furniture, hunter green duvet, and large canvas prints of some of Jordan’s favorite spots in nature, including Firestone Beach and Hallmark Lighthouse.

After tossing on a pair of jeans, a yellow blouse, and a pair of Christmas tree earrings, I brush out my hair and quickly decide the kinks are not worth dealing with tonight, so up into a messy bun it all goes. Then I slip on my favorite brown flats and, with a hug and a kiss to Ryder and a goodbye to Lexi, I’m off to Chloe and Freddy’s engagement party.

Off to make the first real appearance in public as Jordan Carmichael’s wife.

Here’s hoping I don’t blow it—because everything depends on people believing our story.

* * *

Finding parking along Main Street is next to impossible on a Friday night, so I decide to take the short walk down Hillside Drive. By the time I’m at The Green Robin, the sun is setting along the horizon, and I’m a bit chilled. Instead of entering through the front door, I head beachside to the steps leading to the raised patio off the back of the restaurant, which Chloe reserved for the party. Laughter and music greet me as I push through the small gate at the top of the stairs.

And wow, the place has been transformed from a casual dining space to a party wonderland—something I’m not surprised at, with event planner Chloe at the helm. Fairy lights are strung from poles mounted at the corners of the deck, and the lime green tables and chairs have been covered with fancy, white tablecloths and moved to make room for a small dance floor in the center. Stretched along the southern deck is a six-foot table piled with some of the Robin’s signature dishes, along with a circular table with artfully arranged baked goodies, most of which I helped Marla make earlier this week at The Blackberry Muffin.

There are people everywhere, some sitting, some standing, and only a few dancing. My first instinct is to stick to the edges as I scan the crowd for my people. Not that everyone in town isn’t “my people” to some degree—even seventy-something Alberta Jenkins, the owner of Al’s Grocery and possessor of one of the sharpest tongues in Hallmark Beach, who is currently circled up near the baked goods table with her twin sister (and town librarian) Anita Draper and gossip queen Collette Flanagan. Alberta’s eyes catch mine over Anita’s head, and she looks like she might push through the crowd to talk with me. Probably because I haven’t been by the grocery to tell her the news about me and Jordan myself.

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