Page 16 of Marriage is a Shore Thing
Geneva stays nearly silent as I chat up every person who congratulates us. Geneva doesn’t remove her sunglasses, hiding her eyes as the sky blurs from orange to purple to deep blue.
“This explains everything,” Cade, a pink-haired woman who just introduced her boyfriend, William, tells me. “We could all feel that connection between the two of you in Vegas, and now it makes perfect sense. You already knew each other!”
“I missed out onso muchby not going to Vegas,” Summer mutters to her boyfriend, Nick.
Cade brightens. “We’ll have to do it again! Maybe make it a yearly girls’ trip.”
They erupt into animated chatter over the suggestion, but Geneva doesn’t move an inch. Her rigid muscles will need an Epsom salt bath after how tight she’s kept her posture tonight.
“The two of you being married is so crazy,” Vivian says, leaning onto the arm of her boyfriend, Finn. “But, like, a good crazy. We should do a double date sometime.”
I’m about to say that would be wonderful when a man in firefighter blues marches toward us, and impossibly, Geneva’s posture stiffens even more. Brynn, who’s said nothing other than to introduce herself, stops eyeing me dubiously and excuses herself.
The man’s gaze follows Brynn—disappointment dotting his brow—before zeroing in on me, his jaw tight. My shoulders slide back automatically as I quickly scan the area around us. There are too many people surrounding us, but perhaps I can convince him to speak to me near the water’s edge. Though we usually have uniformed officers in the ER to help us if a patient or family member becomes aggressive, I often need to diffuse things before they can get into the room.
“Noah!” Joanna trots over, the silver bangles around her wrist tinkling with the movement. “Meet your new brother-in-law, Van. Sorry he’s late,” she tells me. “They were out on a call. Nothing dangerous, I hope?”
“Just a medical call in Pungo,” Noah answers, crushing my outstretched hand.
I give him a fierce handshake, but his hard expression doesn’t drop. His arms fold over his chest, mirroring Geneva’s favorite posture, but Noah’s features are a duplication of Joanna’s. They’ve got the same curly brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles.
Joanna lays a hand on her son’s arm. “Isn’t this wonderful? Our little family is expanding.”
“Stupendous,” he says, glaring at me.
The following silence is as stagnant as mosquito-egg-infested swamp water. Everyone but Joanna drops away with murmured excuses.
“Van is an ER doctor,” Geneva blurts, speaking sentences for the first time since we arrived. “I bet the two of you could trade stories for hours. Right, Sugarpieface?” Her brown eyes nervously slip to Joanna before returning to mine, pleading.
Sugarpieface?I nearly choke on the chuckle trying to break free.
“Always happy to talk shop,” I say, turning toward Noah with an affable smile.
“That’s actually perfect.” Joanna grins at me before focusing on Geneva. “Camille wanted to chat with you about organizing a mom-and-me boxing class for middle and high school girls and their mothers.”
When Geneva hesitates, I lean close to whisper. “I’ll be fine.”
I give her my biggest smile as Joanna tugs her away.
“Alright, I think we both know you’re lying,” Noah says once we’re alone. “There’s no way you’re married, so why don’t you just tell me the truth. I’m going to find out anyway.”
“We are married.”
“Sure. And I’m a merman—just look at my shiny scales.”
I sigh internally, taking another tactic. “This sure makes your mom happy.”
Noah’s gaze slips over the distance, finding Joanna with an eclectically dressed woman of the same age. Geneva removesher sunglasses, some of the tension in her frame softening while speaking to the wildly gesticulating woman. When the corner of her mouth quirks, a helpless exhale leaves my lips.
“Oh crap. You really like her. I thought this was some sort of insurance scheme or something.”
Geneva is smart and strong-willed, unexpectedly funny, and undeniably gorgeous. I liked her when I first met her in Vegas, and that feeling hasn’t diminished since.
“It’s complicated, but it’s not insurance fraud,” I say, not taking my eyes off Geneva.
Her head turns toward me in halting degrees, almost as if she’s fighting herself. When our gazes catch, an electrical spike shoots through my bloodstream. I should be used to the sensation by now, but man, it sucks the air from my lungs every time.
“This is weird,” Noah says, dragging my attention back to the conversation.
