Page 73 of The Wild Card
“Well, I’m glad we talked through everything,” he says. “Because we’ve been summoned.”
“Summoned?”
“We’ve been invited to dinner at Pat and Lindy’s. I guess it’s as good a time as any to explain everything to them.”
CHAPTER 15
Collin
Most of the time,even when they’re being giant, royal pains, I appreciate my family. It’s something special to have the kind of bond we share.
Things could have really fallen apart when Mom died—and they did, for a little bit. But James held us together until my dad was able to get back up and live again. After that, Tank made it his personal mission to give us the best family experience he could.
My brothers and I have always fought a lot, but they were more squabbles with the occasional physical altercation when things boiled over. Love always ran between us. We fought because we loved each other, not because we didn’t. Most disagreements boiled down to personality differences and annoyances, not anything serious. And as we’ve grown, our differences have led to mutual respect and support. I’m lucky to call my brothers my best friends.
And yet.
Every so often there are times likethis.
Times where I’d like to disown them, change my name, and relocate to a different continent.
In a diabolical plan I should have anticipated, the dinner portion of the evening was totally benign. Almost as soon as we walked through the door, I wrapped my arm around Molly—wanting to shield her as much as possible from my family’s reactions—and announced that the two of us were pretending to date and why.
Jo was the only one missing, and I’m glad she’s playing at a friend’s house for now—we can talk to her later and in a different way. With everyone else, diving right in with the truth seemed like the best option.
No one seemed particularly shocked or bothered. But what should have been my first clue to something more going on was the fact that no one teased us. Not even Pat.
The normal chaos of a Graham family evening quickly ensued. Dogs coming in from the backyard and barking greetings. Everyone talking over each other as Pat finished up the steaks he grilled for dinner. Conversation quickly moved on to Lindy’s pregnancy and some local town drama. People were unhappy about moving the Sheet Cake Festival to May—it’s way too hot—and about Wolf Waters’s chaps and speedo combination, which most of the town thinks needs to be addressed by some kind of decency ordinance.
Our family is in agreement with most of the town about Billy Waters’s leadership. He may only be the temporary mayor, but he’ll probably run once we have an actual election. Or try to weasel his way into rewriting the town bylaws so this temporary election becomes permanent. And no one wants that. He’s already trying to make things more difficult for Tank in his efforts to revitalize downtown—which should be ineveryone’sbest interest.
None of us are sure how Billy secured the position in the first place, as so many in Sheet Cake cannot stand the Waters family. But they’re old Sheet Cake and have money, so they’re obviously exerting sway somewhere, somehow.
Me? I’m just glad it made for a topic of conversation that wasn’t Molly and me.
At one point during the meal, Molly and I shared smiles that seemed made of pure relief.
This isn’t so bad, her face seemed to say.
No, it isn’t, mine agreed.
But I should have known better. I should have realized the trap they were setting, lulling us into feeling comfortable. Safe. Totally at ease as Lindy suggested we go sit in the living room because she needed to put her pregnant feet up—her words.
Molly and I have just taken seats on the couch when suddenly my dad and Harper and Chase are looped in by way of video calls on two different phones, propped up on the renovated fireplace mantel so they can see us.
Before I can ask what’s going on or grab Molly’s hand and make a run for it, the front door opens and Chevy saunters in, taking a seat next to Pat on the couch.
“Why are you here, Sheriff?” I ask, giving the rest of my family narrow-eyed gazes as I scoot a little closer to Molly. As though sensing the same danger I am, she leans into me until I wrap an arm around her shoulders.
Chevy grins. “I’m here in case of an unlawful dispute. Or just to witness the drama. With Val out of the country, I’m bored. Plus, I need to fill her in on all the hot gossip.”
Molly and I are now surrounded and what felt like a safe haven moments ago now feels like an ambush in enemy territory.
And ambush is absolutely the correct term.
With almost manic glee, my entire family barrages us with a seemingly endless number of invasive questions, with a goal of what seems to be my ultimate embarrassment.
It makes the conversation Molly and I had wherein we discussed expectations and practicalities look like a memo scribbled on a sticky note. Meanwhile, my family is apparently researching a whole doctoral thesis on the subject of our fake relationship.
