Page 46 of Untruly With You

My dad’s laughter rumbles again.

Two hours later,I walk into the guest room to find Laine applying makeup. Her dress fits snugly at her chest, then flares out in layers at her waist. It’s complete with puffy, see-through sleeves. She looks beautiful.

“Is it too much?” Laine asks, eyeing me in the mirror’s reflection.

I grin. “That depends on what our plans are for tonight.”

Laine turns around to face me, grimacing. “I forgot to tell you? Apparently, being a bridesmaid for Cassidy means going to her bachelorette party tonight in Missoula.” She bites her red bottom lip. “Is that…weird for you, though?”

“My fake girlfriend going to my ex-slash-soon-to-be-sister-in-law’s bachelorette party? What could be weird about that?” My voice is drenched in sarcasm. “Trust me, in a town this small, everyone gets all entangled in each other’s lives. It’s not the first time something like this has happened in West River.”

“I’d rather just stay here and be with you,” Laine murmurs, twisting the rings on her fingers.

“I happen to be going to a bachelor partytonight, so we’re even.”

“Who do you think will have the hotter strippers?” Laine teases.

I laugh, already thinking about the awkward night ahead. If Wells is any bit as much of a wild partier that he was in high school, this could be interesting.

Not wanting to think any more about the things that await me tonight, I ask, “How did the interview with my dad go?”

Laine snorts. “Should I be worried that your thoughts jumped from strippers to your father within two seconds?”

“Har-har,” I deadpan. “Was he nice to you?”

“Surprisingly so. He seemed tired—exhausted, really—but I think it went well.”

“Yeah,” I hum. “Growing up, he would be pretty beat after coming home from work in the evenings. But it seems like it’s worse now.”

“I compared him to a pointillism painting, and he seemed to appreciate it.” Laine says, telling me her analogy. “If you get too close to him, it’s easy to miss the big picture.”

“I think he’s more like the sun,” I say, pushing a stray hair out of Laine’s face. “Warm from afar, but stand too close, and you get burnt.”

Laine thinks on that for a moment before saying with a sideways grin, “Yeah, I think he’d prefer my analogy.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Have you talked to Wells lately?” Laine asks out of the blue.

“No. No, not really,” I mutter.

“Well, I think we need to get better at selling this thing between us when he’s around,” Laine says. “He seemed happiest with you when he thought you were too busy with your new girlfriend to worry about Cassidy.”

“We’ll sell it,” I say, trying to keep from smiling too wide.

A knock sounds at the door, and Frankie peeks her head in. “Time to go, Lainey!”

“Have fun tonight,” Laine says to me. She tiptoes up, dips her head back just enough for me to understand she’s subtly motioning to Frankie, and I meet her in a kiss. “Don’t make out with any strippers,” I murmur, quiet enough so only she can hear.

20

LAINE

The only thingworse than wearing a pink cowboy hat topped with male genitalia on it is wearing it around your fake-boyfriend’s sister and ex. It’s even worse than I imagined. All the bridesmaids have one. Cassidy’s hat is glittery white and has a veil attached to the back.

“Thanks for coming,” Cassidy says, pulling me into a hug. “And thank you for filling the last-minute bridesmaid spot.” Judging by her eager affection, she must already be on her way to getting drunk.

“Grab your shirts too!” Cassidy’s sister says, shoving hot-pink tank tops toward me and Frankie. As the maid of honor, she’s hosting the party at her apartment.

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