Page 18 of Maid For Each Other

“Deal,” she replied, gesturing to the bartender for two of whatever had been in her empty wineglass. “That will take all of one minute. We only know that your name is Abi, you’re brilliant, and I think he might’ve said you went to UNO.”

“And we know you make incredible muffins,” his dad interjected with a smile.

“Thank you,” I said, still salty about losing my muffins.

That was supposed to be my meal prep, Charles!

“I’m just glad we got to them before Declan,” his mom said as she grabbed two glasses of wine from the bartender and held one out to me. “He tends to eat all the sweets before anyone else has a chance to touch them.”

“Did you know,” I said quietly, as if I was about to share their son’s deepest, darkest secret, “that he broke up with his last girlfriend because she wouldn’t let him eat chocolate?”

“What?” his mom said, looking scandalized. “Who was this?”

“I can’t remember her name, it wasn’t serious,” I said, taking the wine. “But she was worried that his sweet tooth was going to make him squishy so she forbade him from eating chocolate. I just remember him saying he’d choose Buncha Crunches over love any day.”

“Declan,” she said in a funny tone, like she was both amused and disappointed.

“Typical Dex,” I said, raising the glass to my mouth. “Right?”

“What’s typical Dex?” I heard from behind me just before two very big hands settled on my shoulders. “The way I’m charming and thoughtful?”

I ignored the shiver of awareness that slid down my spine as foreign hands rested on my body. “The way you’re able to silently creep up behind someone like a stalker.”

“Oh, honey,” he said, anddear Godhe lowered his head and pressed a kiss to my shoulder.

It wasn’t creepy—it was a chaste peck—but I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“So I don’t think Dex ever told me,” his mom said. “How did you two meet?”

“Come on, Ma,” Declan said, and every muscle in my body was tense, defensively expecting another surprise peck attack. “We met—”

“Not from you,” his mother said, holding up a hand and silencing her son. “I want Abi’s version.”

I had no idea what he wanted me to say, since we hadn’t gotten to the part where we worked out the details of our lie. I had no idea what his daily life looked like—where he went, what he did with his time—so I was clueless about what to even guess at.

We met at his nudist club’s bowling party.

We go to the same fight club.

Our dogs are dating.

I really,reallywanted to use one of those, but as his parents stood there, staring and waiting as if this was the most important of all information, I restrained myself.

A little.

“Well get ready—it’s quite a story,” I said, grinning at Declan and tilting my head as he came around to stand at my side. “I was at the gym on a treadmill, and so was Dex; I always noticed him because he runs really fast.”

I looked at his parents, and they were nodding and listening like toddlers with a bedtime story so I knew I’d gotten it right, that Declan Powell was a gym guy.

“So I was jogging on the treadmill directly in front of him, really self-conscious. I was trying to be cool and look good while I ran because he’s so handsome, right?”

His dad chuckled, and his mom was practically bursting with enthusiasm as I praised her son.

It was a little disgusting, how much they both obviously thought he hung the moon.

I turned my gaze back to him, and Declan did not look amused.

Which made memoreamused.

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