Page 14 of Conveniently Theirs

At a stoplight, Wes twists around to look at us. “I just gotta say this. You two are starting on a great adventure. I predict you’ll be together—well, it’s just that you look at each other the same way my wife and I do. With love, respect, and hopeful dreams. And we’ve been together for forty-seven years.”

I catch my lower lip between my teeth to keep from blurting out that our marriage is a fake. To keep our deception believable, I’ve got to get a handle on my reactions to statements like that.

“Thank you, sir,” Josh says. “And congratulations on those years together. You’re an inspiration.”

We pull into a nearly full parking lot and scorean empty spot where we can see people waiting for donuts. The line stretches out the door and half-way down the length of the building. These must be good donuts. Wes gives a soft snort. “Looks like it might take a while. Do you want?—”

Josh has already opened his door. “I’ve got this. You two relax and I’ll be back. As quick as I can, anyway.” He’s jogging toward the end of the line before I can even draw a breath.

Wes and I discover a shared love of sixties music and are having a private karaoke session blasting Gene Pitney’s “Town Without Pity” when Josh returns about fifteen minutes later. He’s carrying two large donut boxes and three cups in a cardboard carrier. I hold up my hand until we finish the final ‘can do’ of the song.

He grins and places one box on the front seat then holds out the carrier so Wes can take one of the cups. “The donuts are for your grandkids.”

“You didn’t have to?—”

“Oh, but I did. Consider it part of your tip.”

“In that case, thank you. They’ll be plenty of excitement in the house come breakfast time.”

Then Josh looks back at me and shakes his head. “You and your love of that ancient music.”

“Ancient?” Wes arches his brows. “That’s a golden oldie.”

Taking the cup holder from him, I agree with Wes. Josh carefully balances the donut box on his lap before saying, “Nah, that’s ancient. Oldies are songs from the eighties.”

I roll my gaze heavenward and Wes chuckles. “Let’s get you back to your hotel. You’ve got a honeymoon to get to.”

Heat fills my face and when I stare at Wes’s grin in his rearview mirror, he winks. After a fortifying sip of the hot coffee, I manage a smile. “Yes, we do.”

If only that were true.

At the hotel we wave as Wes drives away. Josh leans close to my ear. “I’m sure he’s watching.” Then he nuzzles my neck. My body comes alive.

“Putting on a show, huh?”

“Mmm, maybe.” He straightens. “That man is inspiring.”

“It was nice of you to get donuts for his grandkids.”

Josh steadies our box of donuts—which I can’t wait to dig into—and we enter the lobby. He doesn’t say anything until we’re on the elevator. “I put a surprise for him in with the donuts.”

“What?”

“I had a couple hundreds in my wallet. They’re not there any more.” He shrugs. “I know he wouldn’t have accepted such a large tip.”

“Sneaky. I approve. You’re a good man, Josh Castillo.”

Part of me is surprised we don’t find Devin in the suite and from the wrinkle in Josh’s forehead, he’s concerned as well. Setting the donut box on the counter in the kitchenette, he opens the lid exposing huge, heavily decorated donuts. “Oh my gosh,” I whisper. “That one. The pink one. That’s mine.”

He chooses a chocolate-chocolate version and we move to the living room to enjoy our treats and coffee. Thankfully time, the food, and caffein help lessen the effects of all the alcohol. I need a clear brain for what I want to say. “Josh.”

“Can I say something first?” Despite the sticky donut remnants, he takes my hand.

The question feels like a reprieve. “Of course.”

Instead of speaking we’re both silent for a long time. Once I’ve licked the last of the donut sweetness from my fingers I snuggle into his embrace. We’ve sat like this so many times over the years. Safe and comfortable with each other. Friend supporting friend. How do I tell him I ache formore when I fear that could changeus? I can’t loseus.

“You’re even more beautiful than usual, Kendall.”

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