Page 11 of The Love Playbook

“Okay, so if you’re not pregnant . . .” I trail off.

My father’s hazel eyes bore into mine. “We’re getting married.”

A chuckle bubbles in the back of my throat, spewing from my lips and morphing into a full-on cackle.

“Good one.” I clutch my stomach. Tears spring to my eyes, and it’s about the same time I’m wiping them with the back of my hand that I realize I’m the only one laughing. In fact, no one else is even smiling.

Dad’s normally stoic features tighten with anger while Barb stares at the ground at her feet, looking like she wants to sink beneath the floorboards.

Beside me, Chris’s wide eyes are trained on his mother.

I swallow over the pit in my stomach as my stomach roils. “Wait. You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” Dad deadpans.

I grip the arms of the chair, grateful I had already set my tea down because I’m quite certain I would’ve spilled it. “But you barely know each other.”

“And I knew your mother all through high school, then dated her all through college. Look how that turned out,” Dad shoots back.

I flinch, taking the hit personally before I recover and turn to Chris. Surely, he has more common sense than the adults sitting across from us. Surely, he sees how crazy this is.

“Chris . . .?”A little help here?

His icy gaze intensifies as he stares over at his mother. “You’re sure? This is what you want?”

She must give him some unspoken sign of confirmation I don’t recognize because in the next second, his stupidly full lips I was admiring just moments ago split into a wide grin as he rises and crosses the room, drawing both her and my father into a giant bear hug. “Then I’m happy for you guys. Congratulations.”

My mouth gapes.

I’m not sure I’ve ever been at a loss for words more than I am at this moment.

“Wait, what? That’s it?” I ask as he sits back down in the chair beside mine. “You’re okay with this?”

Chris just shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

I think I’d rather the baby news. At leastthatI’d understand. They were careless. They made a mistake. But this . . . this is much more calculated.

“Some people know within seconds of meetingthe one,” Chris says, his gaze oddly focused on my face in a way that makes me squirm.

I pick my jaw back off the floor because apparently Chris has lost his marbles, too. I already knew he was a little off his rocker, so I’m not sure why I’m surprised, but I am.

I turn toward my father, my vow to be kind forgotten with my desire to be right. “Dad, your last relationship before Barb lasted two weeks.Two.”I hold out two fingers to emphasize my point. “And that was one of your longer relationships over the years. What was her name again? Kittie? Kiki?”

“Keira,” Dad snaps. “Look, I admit I dated a lot over the years, but sometimes you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a princess.”

I snort, unable to hide my cynicism. I played nice already and look where it got me. “Right. Does Barb know about your history? About all thefrogsyou’ve kissed, and done who knows what with?” I mutter the last part under my breath, unable to look at her because I’m sure the direction of this conversation is devastating. It would be for me.

“I’ve told her everything about my past,” my father says, shooting me a knowing look. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

I shake my head, unable to believe my ears. If he’s told Barb about his past?all of it?then he’s surely told her about my mother.

I wonder how he portrayed her; what reasons he gave her for why they split.

Suddenly vulnerable, I cross my arms over my chest.

“Your father and I have both endured our share of difficulty,” Barb chimes in, her voice soft. “But we love each other, and we make each other happy. I didn’t think that was even possible after Chris’s father died, so now that I’ve found it, I’m not going to pass it up.”

“And how much haveyoudated since your husband?”

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