Flirting with the Frenemy (Bro Code #1)(37)

“I heard Pop’s going to play matchmaker for all your kids,” I tell her in a desperate bid to distract her.

It doesn’t work. “Meh. He says that every couple months like clockwork. Tell me it’s the single dad. He’s a handsome one. And those muscles—mm-mmm. And so very polite and apologetic after the pizza mishap.”

“The pizza mishap!” I say triumphantly. “He kissed me on the sidewalk, and then the pizza mishap happened too. This is not a coincidence.”

“Ellie thinks she and Wyatt are cursed and should break up,” Monica tells Libby.

“Ah. Fear of commitment. Natural, after what happened with the last one she dated.”

“Monica’s marrying that last one I dated’s brother tomorrow,” I remind Libby.

“But she’s not marrying that barnacle you escaped from, thank goodness. They’re brothers, not clones. Now, you explain to me what’s bothering you about committing to this nice young man.”

“His name’s Wyatt,” Monica supplies. “The hot single dad. He’s in the military and flies experimental planes. Total badass with a big heart.”

“Not helping,” I tell her.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, lifting a scone. “Oh, white chocolate raspberry. Libby, you are a goddess.”

“Come, come, tell us the problem,” Libby says. “Physical, emotional, or vaporal?

“Vaporal?”

“Pits, feet, or ass stinks?”

Monica chokes on her scone.

“He smells very nice,” I concede, because despite actually having a good excuse to fake break up with him—since we’re only fake dating—I am willing to be his friend.

For Beck’s sake.

One day, my brother’s going to crack the wrong joke and need the rest of us to fall in line to get him out of trouble, and Wyatt and I sniping at each other won’t help.

“Does he have performance issues?” Libby asks.

“No matter how I answer that question, it won’t be three hours before everyone in town thinks they know everything there is to know about my sex life.”

“Two lattes and an ice pack,” the barista says, setting coffees and a bag of ice with a dish towel on the table. “And this is why I recommend padded headboards.”

“Your face does kinda speak for itself,” Libby tells me with a grave nod of her short graying curls.

“I walked into an open cabinet door.”

“I threw out my hip trying a new position once. Took me four days to walk again, but the memories last a lifetime. Ah, to be young and nimble again.”

“Wyatt’s stationed in Georgia, and my job is in Copper Valley, okay?” I need something, or I’ll be hearing everyone’s opinions on my love life before we make it the two blocks to the town square to try our hand at digging up old Thorny Rock’s treasure. “Yes, we have attraction, but we have other things working against us.”

“But only until his commitment with the military’s up,” Monica points out. “Less than two years, right?”

“And he’s divorced.” I feel like a heel tossing out that tidbit, but anything to get them to think he’s not perfect. “You know the odds of divorce go up once you’ve done it the first time.” Isn’t that what they say?

Libby and Monica share a look. “Cold feet,” Libby declares.

“And some history,” Monica agrees. “Ellie. I don’t hang out with your brother’s crowd ever, and even I know Wyatt only got married because she was pregnant and he thought it was the right thing to do.”

Libby frowns. “Boy didn’t know to use a condom?”

“He hooked up with an old girlfriend after his mom’s funeral,” I whisper, because I feel like I’m cheating on Wyatt by telling other people his business, but I don’t want them thinking he goes around having unprotected sex with any woman who’ll have him. He used a condom with me at Christmas, and we didn’t get far enough to need one last night. “I haven’t asked, but you know those things break sometimes. Cut him some slack. And Tucker’s an awesome kid.”

Monica smiles at me over her latte. She’s a smiling parrot bride, but she looks like a cat with a canary.

Libby smiles too. “Well then. Clearly you’re right, and you two aren’t meant for each other.”

I’m being reverse psychologied. It won’t work. “Exactly.” I’m oddly deflated, like I do actually care that we could have a real chance. Or maybe I’m getting that good at subconsciously acting.

Monica and Libby share another smile, and Libby pushes back from the table. “You two enjoy your coffee. Monica, hon, you let me know if there’s anything we can do to help with the wedding. Love your costume, by the way.”

“Thanks, Libby.”

“You bet.”

“Where’s Jason?” I ask her when we’re alone again at the table.

“Picking out our shovels,” she answers cheerfully. “Eat up, Ellie. We’re about to dig up gold.”





Fifteen





Wyatt



Davis declines joining Tucker and me down in Shipwreck for the kick-off to the treasure dig, so it’s just the two of us walking along Blackbeard Avenue, heading for the center square. We haven’t yet figured out any of the clues to find the hidden peg leg around town, but neither of us cares. We’re having fun with everything else.