Page 82 of Always Knew It Was You

I was never religious growing up. My mom was a religious woman though and she took itveryseriously. To the point where she’s been on a religious sabbatical since my brother died, and self-imposed strict rules indicating that none of us contact her while she’s gone. Maybe it’s her way of dealing with her grief, but also something, a nagging voice tells me it’s because she’s angry at me and regrets adopting me.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Huh?” I break out of my thoughts to refocus on Carly.

“I said you don’t have to think too hard about it. You don’t have to come. I don’t mind.”

“Oh.” She must have misread my expression and probably thought that I was intensely wondering whether to go to the picnic or not. She thought that was why I was frowning.

“That’s not what I was thinking about,” I assure her. “But yeah, I can come to the picnic.”

“It’s fine. Seriously, Micah. You don’t have to.”

I cock my head.

And even though she says she doesn’t mind me not accompanying her to this picnic, the way she averts her gaze after a few seconds tells me she does. It also alerts me that there’s more to her questioning than she’s revealing.

“Do younotwant me to come?” I ask.

She thinks about it, then shrugs. “I mean, it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”

“You sure about that? Because it kinda sounds to me like you asked me on a date and now you’re trying to back out of it.”

“It wasn’t a date! You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“No, no, no,” I laugh. “You can’t take it back now. You asked me out, Carly. And if my fake girlfriend wants me to go to a church picnic with her then guess what I’m doing? Going to the damn church picnic.”

“I’m not your fake girlfriend anymore.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m coming. Now what exactly does one wear to a church picnic?” I sigh feeling like slapping my forehead. “And here I thought I wouldn’t have anything to go to. I left all the good stuff in France. Shit, even my Valentinos.”

“No, no, no, you can’t wear anything like that.” She waved her hands emphatically. “Regular clothes only. Nothing too fancy. We’re in Laketown, after all.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, but... it’s a church event. I can’t just wear jeans and a T-shirt.”

“Why not? That’s pretty much what Emma’s grandpa wears. And Poppy Moon wears hunting gear everywhere, so you won’t stick out like a sore thumb for being too casual.” She bites her lip in uncertainty. “But on second thought, maybe you shouldn’t go with me.”

“Why not? I can do casual.” I already have in mind what I’m going to wear. Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and Cuccinelli leisure-fit linen pants. Maybe Gucci loafers. Not fancy at all, very mainstream and I wore that outfit at least twice before, which makes it very casual as a matter of fact.

She offers a tiny, hesitant smile. “No, that’s not it... I mean, you can go to the picnic, it’s just that I’m not so sure you want to show up with me.’

“Why not?”

“Well, as you might have guessed, my family isn’t exactly well-liked in this town. And for a pretty good reason, to be fair. If you show up to the picnic with me, people will think we’re dating.”

“And?”

“And… it might affect your reputation. They might think there’s something wrong with you for slumming it with me.”

I immediately scowl.Slumming it?That’s how she describes our relationship?

She thinks that I somehow see her as inferior and I’m only tolerating her presence for what… sex?

God. I hate everyone who’s ever intentionally or unintentionally made her feel that way. Probably began with those damn parents of hers. Her words speak to some deep-seated insecurities that I’ll need to help her deal with later. But it will probably take a more sensitive touch than I have right now.

“Besides,” she continues as I try to control the anger induced by listening to her talk about herself like that. “If we go together that might signal to my family that we’re actually in a serious relationship. Like I said, those guys are vultures. And there’s more of them that you haven’t met yet. The second they know about you though, they’ll descend and start asking for favors, as if it’s your responsibility to take care of the whole brood.” She sighs and closes her eyes. “It gets pretty annoying. You’d basically have to be an asshole if you want to get them off you.”

I tut. “It’s funny how you think I care about any of that, either my reputation or being an asshole to your family. Just FYI, I didn’t care about my reputation when I was a teenager surrounded by elite snobs trained with sharp tongues and the ability to verbally slice you off at the ankles if they thought they were somehow better than you. I certainly don’t care now that I’m in a town with strangers, most of whom I don’t give a damn about. No offense.”

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