Page 55 of The Secrets We Built Together

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Rule number one: public displays of affection are necessary but minimal."

"Meaning?"

"Hand-holding. The occasional arm around your shoulder or waist." He dried his hands on a towel, precise movements, like everything he did. "Nothing that would make either of us uncomfortable."

I nodded, trying to ignore how my skin warmed at the thought of his arm around my waist. "What else?"

"Rule number two: we refer to each other as fiancé or fiancée when in public. Or..." he hesitated, "...appropriate terms of endearment."

"Like what?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Sweetie pie? Honey bunch? Doctor Dreamboat?"

He gave me a look that was half-exasperation, half-amusement. "Something believable, Blake."

"Fine. I'll workshop it." I leaned against the counter. "Rule number three: we check in with each other if one of us gets uncomfortable."

"Agreed." Xander nodded. "And rule number four: this arrangement is about Amelia. Nothing more."

Our eyes met, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between us. I looked away first.

"Nothing more," I agreed.

"That’s set then. I’ll get Amelia ready for the day.” And he disappeared out of the bathroom leaving me to finish getting ready in bewilderment.

What just happened?

I’d barely walked into the kitchen when I saw Xander nervously pacing. He turned as I approached a bright smile on his face.

“Ready for our next public appearance as the happy couple?" Xander asked, Amelia balanced on his hip. He'd dressed her in a little yellow sundress Delaney had given us, with a matching headband that made her look like a tiny sunflower.

“Erm, I guess. Where exactly are we going?”

“To the farmer’s market. A Willowbrook Saturday tradition and the perfect place to debut our engagement after the awkward bookshop display. Maybe we should practice first," Xander suggested, his voice suddenly uncertain.

"Practice what?"

"The... couple things." He gestured vaguely between us. "The hand-holding and... stuff."

"Oh. You know you’ve held my hand before right?" The room felt ten degrees warmer.

“I know, it’s just… this is just how my brain works.”

We stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room, Amelia babbling between us. Then Xander shifted her to his other hip and extended his free hand to me.

"Let's start with this," he said.

I slipped my hand into his. His palm was warm and dry, his fingers immediately curling around mine with gentle pressure. Something electric shot up my arm at the contact the same as the night we’d stood in front of Delaney’s waiting to tell everyone thetruth. I'd expected it to feel strange this time, especially after the other night. Instead, it still felt... right. Like our hands had been designed to fit together.

Xander cleared his throat. "That's... good. Natural."

"Natural," I echoed, my voice sounding distant to my own ears.

"What about..." He took a step closer, and slowly slid his arm around my waist. The gesture pulled me against his side, my shoulder brushing his chest. I could smell his soap, something clean and vaguely pine-scented.

My breath caught. "That works too."

His eyes dropped to my mouth for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. "Good."

"Good," I repeated.

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