Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Absently, I rub my hands on my thighs, the smooth dress fabric reassuring me that at least I’m not naked in this version of the nightmare.
What would Alphena do? W-W-A-D?
I start with the easiest of the bunch, bending down to Grace.
“Gracie, Gracie, Bo Bacie,” I sing-song to Grace as we do the complicated routine of high-fives that we choreographed in the car on the ride home from Elena’s.
She laughs before finishing, “Little Luna foo-foo, hopping through the forest.”
We do bunny ear fingers and then wiggle them against each other. It makes no sense to an adult, but it works for us. I look up to Cameron and smile. He seems stunned, probably at both my appearance and the song and dance with his daughter, but he fixes his face quickly. “Hello,” he says politely.
I swear he mutters under his breath, “Loo-na and El-a-na? I thought she was saying the same name, just misspeaking sometimes.”
He thought Luna and Elena sound alike? That’s kinda funny. But nothing else about this meet-and-greet is.
Next, I smile at Kayla. “Hey, Kayla,” I say, side-hugging her in greeting.
To her credit, she hugs me right back the way Carter said she would. “I’m gonna need answers from someone later,” she speed-whispers in my ear.
Counting my greeting with Cole as I was walking in, I’m three for three with the siblings without hyperventilating. My internal Alphena is doing a little badass comic book cheer.
I wave at Chance, who Carter warned me would be a hard sell and a poor reaction and someone to avoid. Then it’s time to focus on the big bad in the room. “Hi Mom, Dad. So good to see you.”
Charles Harrington looks at me carefully, his eyes scanning mine. I catch Miranda looking past me to Carter. There’s a moment of horrid anticipation where I think my stomach contents might come right up and spill on their shoes and the very expensive rug beneath them. And considering I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch today because of nerves, that would not be a pretty sight.
Miranda must see something in Carter’s face because she reacts first.
Placing her arms around my shoulders in a friendly hug—as though we’ve done this dozens of times before—she says, “Hey, sweetheart, so good to see you too.”
I let out a relieved sigh in her arms.
They’re going along with it! I can’t believe it! The next thought I have is, This family is reeeally weird.
There was a tiny part of me that honestly thought Carter might be playing a prank on me. Like I was going to walk in, expecting to act like his wife, and the whole family would shout ‘gotcha’ and I’d be the dummy. I guess as long as Ashton Kutcher were here, I wouldn’t mind being Punk’d though.
That doesn’t seem to be the case. If anything, Carter and I are the ones punking them.
Carter’s dad, Charles, isn’t nearly as easy as Miranda. His curious look has turned downright hostile. “What’s going—”
Carter puts his arm over my shoulders, pulling me to his side so fast that I almost lose my balance in the heels I rarely wear. The move is intentional, showing that I belong with him. Or rather, to him. At least in this context. His tone is equally sharp. “Dad, whatever issues you have with my wife, now is not the time. Luna and Elena enjoyed talking about their shared passion for art, and if Elena chooses to work with Blue Lake, it will be partially because of Luna’s love for all things artistic.”
Carter makes it sound like Charles and I have some sort of sordid, drama-filled history while dropping all sorts of hints to his father about what I’m doing here without spelling it out on an airplane banner. Carter told me that his dad is brilliantly smart and adaptable, but whether Charles takes the hints and plays along is another matter entirely.
Carter and Charles enter into a stare-down competition with me trapped between the two of them. I have one savior in this room, and I bury myself into Carter’s side, my hand on his abdomen, where I can feel the hard muscles beneath his shirt, and my eyes are locked on his chest, which is rising and falling steadily. His breath keeps me from going into a full-blown panic attack as I pace my breathing to match his.
“I could use a drink. Anyone else?” Kayla says brightly, breaking the standoff. She pulls me away from Carter, and I flinch at the loss of his protection, but it seems she truly does have my back because she guides me over to the corner to a bar. Quietly, she asks, “Are you old enough to drink? If not, for fuck’s sake, tell me now so I can go ahead and murder my brother.”
I know I look young, but it didn’t occur to me that they might think I was underage compared to Carter. I was strictly concerned about the unknown wife situation. I nod, confirming, “I’m twenty-three.”