Page 29 of From Best Friend to Bride
That’s it, Nana.
Straight to the point as always.
“Nana?” Fred asked as I collapsed against the door. He looked from me to them. “What are you two rushing about for? You should be more careful at your ages.”
“We’re not that old, dear,” Granny said dryly.
Because everyone knew that you were considered young adults the moment you reached your eighties.
Dear God.
“The floors were just cleaned. I don’t want either of you falling and hurting yourselves on a wet patch,” he said diplomatically, leaning back in his chair. “Why have you come bursting in here like there’s a fire?”
“I came to see my grandson-in-law!” Nana exclaimed, rounding the desk and holding her hands out to him.
Fred hesitated, then put his hands in hers and looked at me with his eyebrows raised questioningly.
I rapidly pointed between us, then the old ladies, then us, and made a wonky little heart with my hands.
I must have flapped far too much because his brows drew together in a confused frown instead.
Ugh, this idiot.
I thought my hurried round of Charades was pretty easy to understand.
He always had been shit at that game.
“Deli told us the good news!” Granny said, glancing back at me with a playful glint in her eye.
Fred stared at me. “And what good news would that be?”
“Oh, stop teasing!” Nana squeezed his hands. “She told us that you’re her secret boyfriend, of course.”
I sagged against the door, briefly closing my eyes. I opened them to the sight of a slow smirk creeping across his face, the kind that made his little left dimple come out in full force.
“Did she, now?” Fred replied slowly, never letting his lips drop from their curved position. “How did that topic of conversation come about, hmm?”
I squirmed.
Was he enjoying this?
He was enjoying this.
This absolute bastard.
Did he not care that I knew his weaknesses? That I could and would use them against him?
Nana launched into the story of what I already knew. A.K.A, how they conned me into an afternoon tea brunch by luring me with talk of Lucy’s baby shower, only to talk me into a corner where I burst out the so-called truth about our relationship.
By the time she reached the bit where we came back here so they could discuss our relationship with both of us, Harry had brought the tea, poured himself a cup, and sat down to enjoy the show.
I was pretty sure that the only person in this room who genuinely thought we were dating was Nana.
Harry, for his part, must have quickly cottoned on, and he played along to perfection.
Until Nana asked the dreaded question.
“So, are you two getting married?”
