Page 19 of Honeyed

“I’ll set it up.” I nod, setting it to the side so I can call to get the details.

“And Alana has the two of us booked for some trade show next month. It’s got to do with the sauces. I promised we’d show face, and apparently a big grocery chain will be there.”

“Why isn’t Liam going to that?” The question makes sense since the retail sauce is his baby.

Patrick rolls his eyes. “He’s grumpy as fuck these days and apparently refusing to put himself into any extrovert situations. So the two professionals are being called in.”

I return the fist bump he holds out and chuckle. “They want us to close a deal, huh?”

“Apparently, this will bring in a shit ton of revenue if we land this chain, and you know I’m all about the bottom line.” He smirks.

“What’s up with Liam, though?” If I can focus on someone else’s problems, maybe it’ll get me out of my own head.

Patty shrugs. “Fuck if I know. May have to do with a certain teacher moving back to town, but he’s tight-lipped.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Gabrielle Murphy? Damn, feels weird not to add Miss to the front of her name.”

Our high school math teacher moved back to town a few months ago and has taken a job at the same local playhouse where Cass teaches workshops at. Liam has been acting even surlier than he usually does, and now that Patrick is saying this, a feeling in my gut is trying to piece it together.

“Shit, don’t tell him I said anything. I’m just tired of how fucking grumpy he’s been.” Patrick wipes a hand down his face.

“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing how tired he looks.

“Cass has had some trouble sleeping the past few nights. She’s just uncomfortable and nauseous. I worry, but apparently, it’s all normal. I’m going to be a fucking wreck when this kid gets here, aren’t I?”

Even though it sounds like he’s complaining, Patrick is smiling like a fool. It’s beyond obvious that he and Cass are over the moon to welcome this baby.

“You’re going to be an awesome dad,” I assure him.

That’s coming from someone who had no idea what a dad was supposed to act like until I met Patrick’s father.

“Thanks, dude. You’ll be one hell of an uncle. Dad, too, when you decide to settle down. What’s with that, anyway? You haven’t been out recently with anyone.”

In a small town, everyone knows the dating life of the single and eligible. I’ve been propositioned to be set up with granddaughters by every older woman in Hope Crest.

Words fail me now, as I can’t exactly tell him that I’m off the market and the culprit is his sister. Fuck, I’m going to get hit when they eventually find out, aren’t I? One of her brothers will be mighty pissed, and I can’t decide which will react the worst. Or maybe it will be Thomas, who trusted me never to go there with his daughter.

A flash of dark waves moves past my office, and the hair on my arms stands up. She’s here, reporting for work, and we’ll have to sit across the hall from each other pretending to work like we’re still best friends and nothing has changed.

Until tonight, when I move into her home like it’s my own because we’re married, and not a soul we love knows it.

8

WARREN

“You’ve left me no room in either closet.”

My words carry down the hall as I try to shove aside the horde of hanging clothes in Alana’s guest room closet.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’d be gaining a husband, much less a roommate, overnight. Forgive me for not predicting the absolute insanity of this situation.” Her sarcasm can be heard from the master bathroom.

I came over after we both finished our work for the day and brought with me two enormous suitcases. It should be enough to get me through the next few months, but I don’t have anything besides clothes and a few personal items that I’m bringing to Alana’s home. All my furniture is still in my apartment, along with every dish, picture frame, sports biography, and childhood trophy I’ve ever won. But being a person who never had what they considered a permanent home until I moved into my own apartment, it didn’t bother me to uproot to her place.

Alana’s house resembles her taste so well: a little small town, a little glitz and glamour, and a whole lot of pink. Of course, the pink is understated; she isn’t living in a doll’s house after all. But where dark hardwood gives way to white subway tile, there would also be a touch of a mirrored hall console. A blush velvet headboard in her bedroom is accented by a brown leather wingback chair. A sturdy dining room table that looks like it was carved from an oak tree with an abstract painting of half-nude models on a runway sits grandly. Alana’s taste is chic paired with cozy, and you can feel her presence in the place she designed to come home to.

I’ve been here a thousand times since she bought it, helped her haul stuff in when she moved, yet if you told me I’d be moving in as her husband even a month ago, I’d have laughed in your face.

“I can try to move some things around.” She leans a hip against the doorframe and watches as I attempt to hang my sweaters and button-ups to no avail.

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