Page 59 of Fake Date with the Mountain Man

“No?”

It takes me a minute to remember the conversation we had at the wedding – the one where Marlow suggested that we would be getting married soon. Everyone is still looking at me, expecting me to elaborate on my single-word response, but I’m not sure what to say. I have no idea if Marlow wants to get married one day (to me or anyone else). I have no idea ifIwant to get married one day.

“I think she was just a little caught up in the moment,” I finally shrug.

Blair stares at me for a long second before finally glancing back down at her plate and pushing a forkful of casserole around.

“Well, I liked her,” Cheryl declares. “I was sure happy to see her put Ashley in her place. Ashley was way out of line. And why she thinks that anyone wants to hear about her son’s diaper habits over dinner is beyond me. I’ve never cared much for that girl.”

Admittedly, I was a little worried that Cheryl would be upset by the exchange between Marlow and Ashley at the wedding. Ashley is her niece, after all. I stand by Marlow either way, but I don’t want her to feel weird around Cheryl.

“Marlow is lovely though. And tougher than I imagined. That’s the sort of woman you need,” Cheryl adds with a cheerful smile.

“Agreed,” I say.

“Bring her next time,” my dad chimes in for the first time all night.

“Sure…maybe.”

No way in hell. I am not subjecting Marlow to an intimate dinner with my ex-girlfriend and a mystery casserole. That seems like the quickest way to ruin everything.

After dessert – a store-bought cake, thank God – Blair and Kevin head home and I head up to the guest bedroom for thenight. As I settle in, it dawns on me that Marlow and I haven’t spent a night apart since we started dating.

I miss her.

Luckily, I am vaguely aware that something called video chat is a thing these days. It takes me a few minutes to figure it out, but once I do, I’m staring at Marlow.

She’s wearing her funny avocado shirt and looking very sleepy. And very pretty.

“Do you want to get married?” I ask right off the bat.

Her eyes flare as wide as saucers, but Marlow doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, to Gerard Butler. Why? Are you hoping for an invite? Because we’re trying to keep the guest list small.”

“You can do better than Gerard Butler.”

“Are you saying that you’re better than Gerard Butler?”

“Yes.”

“Debatable…”

Marlow rolls her eyes and laughs at me. The screen snags for a second on the moment when she glances downward. She’s all thick eyelashes and rosy cheeks. It’s one of many, many moments when I can’t even fathom how I got so lucky.

“How was happy hour?” I ask.

“Fine, I didn’t stay too long.”

Obviously. It’s only 8:30 and she’s already wearing her avocado shirt.

“Nothing too exciting then?”

“Nope, Abby and Hunter left early. Kayla showed up again though. She was asking everyone about you.”

Great. When will she get a fucking clue?

Even though Marlow isn’t ready to go public with our relationship at work, I routinely go out of my way to mention that I have a girlfriend in front of Kayla. That’s the extent of my interactions with her. If she comes anywhere near me, I runaway like I’m on fire. No matter what I do, it only seems to make her work harder to get my attention.

Marlow yawns against her palm. She’s getting tired, but it will be another hour or so before she actually admits it.

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