Page 64 of Contingently Yours
“Shh,” he mumbles against my chest. “Sleep time. Sleep.”
I laugh again, but this time it’s a soft, earnest sound. Everything he does has become endearing. I give in, placing a kiss on his mop of golden hair, telling myself fate will sort everything out sooner or later.
“Goodnight, Andrew.”
CHAPTER 23
Andrew
He took care of me. No one’s taken care of me since I was a little kid, and my mother was so beside herself with what to do over a fever that she practically needed to be sedated. Clutching my new most-favorite possession in the world inside my pocket, I am counting the seconds until the driver drops us off at the hotel in Darwin.
“What is that?” I asked, waking up with my face plastered to Lucas’ chest late this morning. I thought maybe I was still hallucinating when I saw a miniature baby grand piano sitting on the table next to our cot.
“Uh…I carved it while you were out of it yesterday,” he said, reaching for the rustic little wooden figurine and presenting it to me.
There was a tiny hole in the open lid of the piano, and I knew in an instant it was meant to allow it to be used as an ornament. My parched mouth went drier staring at the detail. He even carved all the keys into it.
“It could use a little more work,” he said, fidgeting with it.
I snatched it out of his hand so fast I was worried I’d broken it. “No! It’s perfect! I mean…it’s fine. Just the way it is.”
And then the fucking door opened and the goddamn Hepperlys returned, unscathed by nature. Where is a crocodilewhen you need one? Worst clients ever. I don’t give a fuck that they announced they want to buy that stretch of no-man’s-land.
“How’s the foot, Drew?” Mason asks, pulling my attention from the back of Lucas’ head, which is way too far away up in the front seat of the van.
“Better.” Sore as shit, but better, I don’t say. “I had a good nurse,” I quip, selfishly hoping Lucas may hear my praise.
Turning around in his seat in front of us, Keenan smiles. “He’s a keeper. Have you two ever thought about tying the knot?”
Shit. Where did that come from?
“Uh, we don’t want to rush anything. We’re happy with the way things are.”
“Rush? Haven’t you been together for like four years?” Keenan laughs.
“More or less.” I squirm, acting like my seat belt needs adjusting. Was four years the lie that I spun? I honestly don’t even remember. “What about you guys?” I deflect. “Is the honeymoon over after this?”
Mason blows out a breath. “Afraid so. I kick off a PR campaign next week in the States, but I’ll get to see Keen for a few days. Dario starts shooting at the end of next week for a month and a half, though, so it’ll be a minute before we’re all together again.”
I realize now this really was their honeymoon. Certainly not one I would have picked. I silently take back any complaints I made about their after-hours bedroom noises. Being apart for so long has to be hell on a relationship. At least, I assume so. I’ve never had the desire to be with one person for long enough to know.
“How do you do it?” I ask without thinking and realize I’m staring at Lucas again.
Soon, we’ll each be off showing properties on our own. Me, going home to my big empty house each night, and him, making that thirty-minute commute to his place in the sticks.
Keenan’s hand pats my arm. “The same way the two of you do.” Smiling, he motions his head toward Lucas and adds, “When every time you look at someone is like the first time you fell in love with them, it’s not as hard as it seems.”
I let out a breathless laugh at his romantic assumption, but then find myself choking on it. My gaze returns to the beefcake, who’s curiously watching the passing countryside out the front passenger window, with a faint love bite on his neck, and I feel warm all over. Is that how I look at him? That seems a bit far-fetched to me. We’ve just graduated from fake to…something casual.
Recovering, I chuckle and nod in agreement to pacify Keenan’s whimsy. For the rest of the ride, however, I can’t help but feel that the fake part of my fake relationship doesn’t exactly feel fake anymore. And I kind of like that it doesn’t.
When we finally reach the hotel, Mason pulls me aside and shows me a screenshot of the purchase of two tickets. Two tickets to a monster truck rally up in Lancaster back home for Wednesday when we get back.
“Just a heads up, I’m going to send these to you. We felt bad about Lucas missing that show you said he wanted to see and wanted to make up for it, but maybe it’d be a nicer surprise if you spring it on him.”
I stare at the image dumbly, unable to move. I can’t with these guys anymore. Yeah, I know they have enough money to buy twenty monster trucks, but something about them being supportive of my big fat lie from day one is like a sucker punch right now. Or maybe it’s because they just did Lucas a solid, though not a solid he actually may enjoy—I was just fucking with him about the monster truck thing, after all. Anyone whorecognizes that Lucas deserves kindness, however, is golden in my book.
Reaching out, I shake his hand. “Thanks, Mason. I appreciate that.” And because I’m still me, I tell him one more lie. “He’ll love it.”
