Well Matched (Well Met #3)(67)

Lulu squawked in delight, clapping a hand to her head to adjust her hat as he put her down. “Knock that off!” She batted at his arm. “I’m your elder too.”

He scoffed. “Five years. Doesna count.”

I held up a hand as he turned to me. “Don’t you dare.”

“Wouldn’t think of it.” His smile was warm and his arm around me was warmer. He didn’t pick me up and swing me around. Instead he hugged me against his side and planted a kiss on my temple. It wasn’t a showing-off kiss, trying to prove something. It was simpler than that, yet more profound: a comfortable declaration that we were together. And even though we were in a crowd, it felt intimate. It felt real.

I’d missed this. I’d missed feeling like Mitch and I were a united front against . . . well, against anything. Every time we did it, we got a little better at it. And every time we did it, it was harder to remember that it was all based on a lie. That at the end of the day, even though Mitch and I looked like a couple that was perfect for each other, we’d soon be going back to normal. And I’d be going home alone.

Being alone used to be the dream, but with Mitch’s arm around me I found myself preferring the lie.





Seventeen





Being left alone, however, was off the menu today.

Mitch stayed with us for a few minutes, but it wasn’t long before Simon called him away. No rest for pirates or Scotsmen around here, apparently. There were a few moments of awkward silence after he left, as I wondered how I could get the hell out of here now that my job was done.

But Grandma Malone turned to me. To me. Why? “What’s next?”

“Next?” I raised alarmed eyebrows to Stacey, who was absolutely loving this.

“Next . . .” She pulled her phone out of a pouch on her belt, checking the time. “Well, if you thought Mitch’s kilt was something, you should come with me. Our next show is about to start, and it’s nice and shady over there. We can get some water on the way.”

“Good idea.” Lulu linked her arm through mine. “Let’s go.”

God. I was never going home.

We made our way down the lane, stopping at the tavern for some cold ciders for Lulu and me, an even colder beer for Grandpa Malone, some sweet mead for Grandma, and icy bottles of water to go for all of us. Emily served us, giving wench’s banter the whole time, while we sat at one of the tables at the tavern to cool off in the shade, Stacey leaving us to head to the Marlowe Stage. By the time we caught up, she had the Dueling Kilts merchandise table set up and was settled behind it, shooting us a little wave as I ushered the grandparents Malone to seats in a shady spot under some trees and made sure they were supplied with water. No grandparents would be dehydrated on my watch.

Watching the Dueling Kilts’ show had been a good call. I hadn’t seen their full set in a while, and I’d forgotten how much fun it was. Honestly, their show was worth the price of admission—it had nothing to do with their association with Stacey, a little bit to do with their talent, and a lot to do with how they all looked in those kilts. Mitch’s family seemed to have a great time, but a low level of panic bubbled up as the show drew to a close. What was I going to do with them now? And why was I in charge of their fun?

As most of the audience filed out, Grandma Malone turned to me. “It’s much cooler here. Do you think they’d mind if we just stayed here for a little while?”

I shrugged. “I can’t imagine it being an issue. Are you sure?” Sitting here was fine with me. It was a good ten degrees cooler in the shade, and—

“Good,” Grandma Malone said. “Then you and Lulu go off and have fun. You can come find us later.”

“Oh.” I blinked and glanced over at Lulu. “Um . . .” There was no polite way out of this, was there?

“Are you sure?” Lulu’s eyes were concerned as she leaned toward them. “It’s hot today. We can go back to the hotel if you want.”

“Not yet.” Grandma Malone sipped her water. “I thought I could sit here and look pathetic, and maybe those kilted boys will come out.”

I choked on my sip of water, but Lulu just rolled her eyes and Grandpa Malone tsked. “I’m sitting right here, you know,” he said.

“I know.” Grandma Malone spoke to him but looked at me, dropping a wink, and I fought to keep a straight face.

“Come on.” Lulu pulled me to my feet, and I forced a smile. “Show me the joust.”

Okay, that sounded like fun. I hadn’t been over that way yet this year. “You’re on.”

On our way out we stopped by the merch table to say goodbye to Stacey. She was talking to some patrons, and while we waited I noticed a rustle at her feet. Her black-and-white cat, Benedick, wearing a harness with little dragon’s wings attached, was leashed to a leg of the table and he rolled in the dirt, batting at a leaf with murderous intent. Everyone was enjoying their day at the Faire. Except maybe that leaf.

Finally alone, Stacey beamed at us. “Good show, right?”

“Definitely.” Lulu shook her head in awe. “You travel with those guys? Damn, girl.”

Stacey sighed dramatically. “I know. It’s a hardship. I’m still working on getting Daniel into a kilt. He won’t do it.”