Page 182 of Push

Only the slightest relief edged Gwen’s smile. “If your mother hadn’t shown me that screenshot on her phone of my name being on the title of her house, I’d say she was making it all up to create drama, but…”

“Is there—I dunno—some other way this could’ve happened?”

Gwen sighed, shaking her head. “Unless there’s a master of forgery out there who’s chosen to steal my identity out of everyone else in the world, it’s simply not possible.”

With a growl of frustration, Gwen threw herself back, lying spread-eagled on the floor, eyes closed. She took long breaths as she processed the lunch disaster over and over. I wanted to curlaround her in a hug, but I was bolted to the floor, the rusty cogs in my mind creaking into gear.

Master of forgery.

My gaze narrowed on the door of our hotel suite. Maybe therewassomething I could do. I rose to my feet and started tidying the papers strewn across the hotel room and stacking them in a neat pile.

“Hey, Gwen,” I called over my shoulder as I dropped another document on the pile. “It’s, um… getting late… I, um… Yeah… I might go pick up Noah.” I raked a hand through my hair. Smooth—not.

Gwen didn’t notice my not-quite-a-lie. She grunted at me, eyes still closed, hands pressed to her forehead like she was trying to get her brain to think harder.

“Are you okay for a bit on your own?” I asked.

She grunted again.

I bent over and pecked a kiss goodbye on her forehead, and then I was out the door. My phone was in my hand before I reached the elevator, and I punched in a message to my dear brother-in-law.

Toby

We need to talk.

Now.

I was about to slip my phone back into my pocket when the call came through.

“Sweetheart.” There was a hollow amusement in Liam’s voice. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Is that an option?”Please say yes.

“You wound me.” He laughed. “What do you want to talk about? Our favorite inspirational quotes? The state of the stock market? It’s appalling, just quietly.”

“Hmm. How about…hobbies?”

“Oh?” His tone turned suspicious. “Are you looking for someone new to join you and Romeo for quilting? I accept.”

“As fun as that would be, I’ve been wondering when Elias last practiced his beautiful penmanship.”

“And why would you wonder that?”

“I had a fascinating conversation with my mother today.”

“Did you just?”

“I did. She thinks Gwen has secretly been put in charge of my family’s fortune. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“Hysterical.”

“The even funnier part is that Gwen can’t remember a single detail about this, and, well, we both know that if there’s something Gwen doesn’t forget, it’s details. Especially—I don’t know—millions of dollars’ worth of details.”

“Thatisan interesting story.”

“Cut the crap, Liam. I’ve got a very freaked-out wife in my hotel room, and since I’m besties with half the cops in Sydney now, I’m more than happy to stop by the station to file another complaint—this time, against you. So, unless you want me spilling my guts, you better start talking.Now.”

“I do love our storytimes.” Did I hear the uncertainty in Liam’s voice? Had I rattled him for once? “But not over the phone.”

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