Page 13 of Where She Belongs
She smacks my arm but doesn’t move away. “This is serious, Gabe. People actually believe I’m some sort of cougar who seduced you.”
“Maybe I seduced you,” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, earning another smack. “Ever think of that?”
Her phone buzzes again. This time it’s her mother:
Why am I finding out about you and Gabe from Facebook? Isn’t he too young for you?! Call me NOW.
“I can’t believe she already knows.” The panic in her voice is real now as she whispers in my ear, “How are we going to explain this when the wedding’s over?”
“Let’s worry about that later. Right now, we just need to convince everyone we’re madly in love.”
“Right.” She nods, but her voice wavers. “Just act natural.”
“Exactly.” I press a kiss to her temple, feeling her sharp intake of breath. “Natural.”
As the limo turns onto the resort’s torch-lit drive, Andrea tenses against me. Through the windshield, I can see camera crews positioning themselves for the perfect arrival shot. Because of course this moment needs to be documented for millions of strangers to dissect and discuss.
“Hey,” I whisper, low enough that only she can hear. “Everything will be fine.”
As the door opens, letting in a rush of warm tropical air and the murmur of waiting cameras, Tristy and Tyler step out first and I follow right behind them. I turn, extending my hand to help Andrea out of the limo. The torchlight catches in her dark hair, highlighting the subtle silver strands she’s stopped trying to hide. She emerges with the quiet dignity that’s become her trademark, though I feel the slight tremor in her fingers as they meet mine.
If we thought playing pretend was going to be a piece of cake, we sure weren’t prepared for the reality of it.
“This way,” I murmur, keeping her close as we follow Tristy toward the lobby. Behind us, I hear Simon’s voice rise above the general murmur—something about his upcoming appearance on national TV to discuss his latest book.
I didn’t even know he’d published anything. But it’s classic Simon, always working the room, always making sure he’s the center of attention.
“How can he promote himself at his daughter’s wedding?” Andrea seethes, her steps faltering slightly but I tighten my hold on her waist.
“Eyes forward,” I whisper. “He’s not worth it.”
As the camera shutters click rapidly behind us—no doubt capturing Simon and Kitty’s practiced poses—I keep my focus on the woman beside me as we make our way to the front desk. I don’t even care if this protectiveness I feel over her is part of the charade. All I know is that it’s real. As friends, it’s always been real.
“Welcome,” the desk clerk says, her practiced smile brightening as she recognizes Tristy. “We have your Executive Suite ready, Dr. Martin.” She taps at her keyboard. “And Dr. Vasquez, I see you also have a reservation for an Ocean View King...”
“Which we won’t be needing,” I cut in smoothly. “I’ll be staying in the Executive Suite with Dr. Martin.”
“Oh?” The clerk glances between our reservations. “Let me just cancel that for you?—”
“Interesting,” Simon interrupts, materializing beside us with Kitty in tow. “Why would you book a separate room if you were planning to stay with Andrea?”
I feel Andrea tense against me, but her response is immediate and natural. “Because someone,” she turns to me with a playful swat to my chest, “insisted on keeping his backup room ‘just in case’ I changed my mind about sharing.”
“You know me,” I add, pulling her closer. “Always like to have a Plan B in case you come to your senses about dating a younger man.”
“As if I’d kick you out now,” Andrea says, and there’s something in her voice that makes my heart skip. “Though I probably should, considering you didn’t cancel that reservation earlier like I asked.”
“When did you ask him that?” Simon presses, his eyes narrowing.
“Last week, over dinner,” Andrea replies without missing a beat. “But Gabe here thinks I’m still too used to having the bed all to myself.”
I shrug, playing along. “Can you blame me? You steal all the blankets.”
The clerk giggles, clearly entertained by our exchange. “That’s so cute! Let me cancel that other room for you, Dr. Vasquez. No cancellation fee, of course.”
“Funny,” Simon says, his voice carrying that economics professor tone he used to use in faculty meetings. “If you’ve been dating for three months, why wait until now to cancel your room? Unless...” He lets the implication hang in the air.
“Unless what, Simon?” I keep my voice light but my arm tightens around Andrea. “Unless we’re lying? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
