Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club #1)(54)

“Dad—”

He put up a hand. “Nothing too risky. I learned that lesson. But you won’t have dear old dad as a roommate much longer.”

The reminder that this—all of this—was temporary poked at something in my chest. “Right. Glad to hear it.”

“How’s your treatment going?” Everly asked.

“Uncomfortable and inconvenient. But if that’s the worst of it, I’ll consider myself a very lucky man. Things are looking good there too. Thanks for asking.” He smiled at her. “Well, I won’t keep you. Goodnight, you two.”

“Night, Richard.”

I nodded. “Night, Dad.”

As soon as he left, Everly grabbed my arm. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

I let her lead me to the bedroom and she shut the door behind us.

“Invite my parents and my sister?” she asked.

“The party sounds amazing?” I shot back.

She put her hands on her hips. “Your dad was so excited. I don’t know how you say no to him when he has that adorable little gleam in his eyes.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Gleam in his eyes?”

“Shepherd, I can’t invite my family. What am I supposed to say? Oh hey, Mom and Dad, can you fly out to Seattle for my engagement party? No, I’m not actually making all your dreams come true by getting married. I’m pretending to be marrying my boss, but everyone else there is going to think it’s real. You can go along with that, right?”

“Can they?”

She groaned. “No, it would be a disaster. My sister totally would, but that’s beside the point.”

“Then don’t invite anyone. They don’t have to know.”

“Yeah, but your dad was so excited about meeting my family.”

“Because he thinks this is real,” I said.

Her expression fell and she leaned away. “Right. There isn’t actually anything between us.”

Damn it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it.” She gestured toward the bathroom. “I think I’m going to take a bath and read. I’ll be sure to put the party on your calendar when your dad sets a date.”

She grabbed a book from her nightstand and went into the bathroom without looking back.

I stared at the closed door for a long moment. Fuck. I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

My phone rang, so I pulled it out of my pocket. As if to add insult to injury, it was my mother. Why was she calling? I hadn’t talked to her in months.

I answered on the way to my office. “Hi, Mom.”

“Shepherd. What’s this about you getting married?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Did you talk to Dad?”

“He called to find out my availability for your engagement party. I pretended that wasn’t the first I’d heard of this. Of course you wouldn’t get engaged without calling your mother to tell her the news.”

I would if the engagement was fake and there wasn’t any reason for you to know. “It was sudden.”

“Indeed. Is she pregnant?”

I sank down into my chair, grinding my teeth together. “No, she’s not pregnant.”

“Blackmail?”

“Mom, what the hell? No, she’s not blackmailing me.”

She paused for a beat. “Then why on earth are you getting married?”

Because I fell in love with her. Jesus, where had that thought come from? “Is it really that hard to believe?”

“Shepherd, marriage is an archaic institution. A legally binding contract between two people to stay together for life? It’s completely unrealistic. Move her in with you. Let her play house if that’s what she wants. But for god’s sake, don’t get married.”

“You’ve made your thoughts on marriage abundantly clear.”

“And don’t get her pregnant,” she said. “That’s almost as bad as getting married.”

“That’s an interesting thing to say to your son.”

“Oh god, don’t start. You sound like your brother. You’ve worked too hard for everything you have to risk it all for some woman.”

“Look, you don’t have to come to the party. It’s Dad’s idea anyway. But Everly’s not…” I trailed off, not sure what I wanted to say. Or rather, not sure I should say it.

“She’s not what?”

“She’s not like you. I’m not marrying her because I’m being coerced.” You’re not marrying her at all, Shepherd. “She wouldn’t know how to blackmail someone even if she wanted to. She doesn’t think like that. People aren’t assets or liabilities to her.”

“So she’s naive. Sounds like your father.”

“Jesus, Mom. At least Dad’s a decent human being.”

“I don’t want to talk about your father. It sounds like you’re intent on marrying this girl who is—” she cleared her throat “—not like me, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it to your party.”

“That’s fine.”

She huffed, like she was insulted. If she wanted me to beg her to come, she was going to be disappointed. I wasn’t playing that game with her.