Page 35 of Stilettos & Secrets on the 7 Seas

“Oh, Darryl.” My mom gasped.

“Son,” my dad began, but Darryl held up a hand, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry, Uncle J, it’s only temporary. My buddy does them. I can’t afford a real one, not yet. I thought Ragina would get a kick out of it. You know, try to figure out about my big secret.”

“Ragina’s not your true love?” Melody’s brows drew together and peaked. She still didn’t understand.

“No. But I love my truck.” Darryl shook his head again. “You see, that’s where I think the confusion started. I’m a single guy. I thought Ragina understood my intentions. Being in a relationship gives me heightened social anxiety. Because heck, when you’re single, you can change your mind next week if you want to.” Darryl cut his eyes at Caiyan. “But with marriage, you can’t change your mind. You gotta go to counseling.”

“I told you,” Eli leaned in. “Single guy syndrome.”

Mom sprang up from her seat. “Well, my goodness, Darryl, I hope it works out for you. Now, let’s all move into the house. The mosquitos are biting, and I’ve got leftover cake. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”

Eli gave me a gentle elbow jab in the side. “Mom’s worried Cousin Darryl’s single talk is gonna rub off on Caiyan.”

Caiyan would need a single guy friend to mop him off the floor after I was done with him. But for now, “let them eat cake!”

Thirteen

Idrove home from my parent’s house with my foot on the pedal and the pedal on the floor. The intensity of my anger increased with every mile. Caiyan ruined my engagement announcement with a fake engagement announcement.

I’d dreamed of the day I told my parents I was engaged, in a few years, or ten. By the time I arrived home, I wanted answers, or Caiyan’s head served on a platter.

My inner voice complied with a vision of my dad serving up Caiyan’s head like the brisket. OK, it made me chuckle. I pushed the headshot away and focused on my fuming. How dare he tell my parents that we’re engaged.

Caiyan’s phone booth was in my backyard. He’d already gone inside. With his gift of opening locks, he’d have no problems with the sliding back door.

He stood in the kitchen holding a scotch. His face brightened, then drew back as he caught my scowl.

“Sunshine, ye made record time. I’ve jest arrived myself.”

I rounded on him without sliding the glass door closed. “What in the hell were you thinking, telling my parents we’re engaged?”

“I was thinking yer mom wanted us to be married.” Caiyan looked smug. “We were already engaged to be engaged, so why naugh?”

“Why not?” I dropped my Kate Spade leather bucket bag on the table, along with my keys, and a huge huff. “Because you haven’t been transparent with me.” I moved toward him.

He held his ground.

I stabbed a finger into his chest. “You’re harboring secrets.”

He didn’t deny it.

He took a step back. Sipped his drink and looked down at me like I was a complicated puzzle and he was missing a few key pieces.

“So, Ragina is mad because Darryl didnae ask her to marry him, and yer mad because I did?”

“You didn’t ask me. You told my parents you already had. There’s a difference.” Geesh! My hands flew into the air like a frustrated Italian cook watching a fly land in the pasta fagioli.

“Dinna fash, Sunshine, if ’tis a romantic setting you want?—”

“I don’t want a romantic setting. I mean, I do, eventually, but not right now. We need to save Marco. We need to find the King’s key. We need to have our heads examined for lying to my mother.” I took his scotch and threw it down my throat.

“Simmer doon. I dinnae see what the problem is.” He walked into the den, relaxed back on the couch, and remoted on the TV.

I followed, stopped in front of him, glared down at his blasé attitude, and blocked his view. “You don’t understand. My mom turns into MOBzilla.”

Caiyan crooked an eyebrow. “What’s a MOB?—?”

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