Page 68 of The Fake Out

And just as quickly closed it when Chris slid his hand on top of mine and spoke. His voice had an edge of steel in it. “That’s enough, Doug.”

The two men stared each other down like they were about to have a shootout, spaghetti western style.

“Knock it off, you two.” Piper took a seat across from us. “We have a plan. We’re getting tons of engagement and views on the updates we’ve been posting online. A lot of positive attention. I think it’s time we take this to the next level.”

That sounded foreboding. “What does that mean exactly?” I asked.

“We need to bring the attention right back to you two lovebirds.” Piper smiled at us. “I think it’s time for a trip to meet Chris’s family and announce the engagement.”

Meet his family? Meet. His. Family. Announce the engagement. My brain wasn’t sure which one I should latch onto first and freak out about. I forced a smile, but a wave of panic hit me. Were my hands shaking? Was I dying? That sounded nice. That’s what you think, the eyes of the stuffed moose seemed to say.

“Deep breaths.” Chris moved closer until I could feel his thigh touching mine. He placed a reassuring hand on my back, rubbing small circles, calming me just by being nearby.

It occurred to me that this was Chris all the time. He didn’t rattle easily. I don’t think I’d ever heard him raise his voice. Right this instant, it’s what I needed. His calm calmed me.

Which was confusing and terrifying all by itself.

“What if they don’t like me?” I whispered.

“This is ridiculous,” Doug muttered.

“Shut up, Doug,” Piper said, her voice mild.

“They’ll like you,” Chris said.

I shot him a glare. “You can’t know that. What if they figure out we’re fakes? What if they secretly hate Texans or redheads?”

The hand on my back slid around my shoulders and pulled me against his side. I didn’t resist. I was too busy wondering how in the world my life had gotten this weird.

“Having known them all my life, I don’t know of any anti-redhead opinions they may hold. I feel confident they’ll like you, despite the hair.” The trace of amusement in his voice irked me, even if I was being ridiculous.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

He grinned. “I’m not laughing at you.”

“Yes, you are.”

In reply he squeezed my shoulder. “They already know all about you. They’ll be excited to meet you.”

“How do they…”

“I told them.”

He told them? What had he told them? I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Right.”

“We’ll leave right after the library closes on Friday and get back early Monday morning. You’ll be tired but you’ll be back at the library to open it.”

“That seems like a lot of driving for less than forty-eight hours. Maybe it’s not worth it?” Please.

“Chris has access to a private jet through the team,” Piper said. “You’ll use that. It’s not a long flight.”

“We’re flying?” I asked, my voice at least three octaves higher.

Seriously, could this get any worse?

TWENTY-NINE

During COVID, someone asked me,