In Your Dreams (Blue Heron #4)(43)

“I’m happy for you.”

He sounded anything but.

Guess Kevin had gotten a good bit of satisfaction, thinking about her mooning over him (which she had), staying home every Friday night (okay, yes, she did that a lot), feeling like no one would ever fall for her again. (Fine! She had those thoughts, all of them!)

Even so, this walk had just become a lot more enjoyable.

“So when are you getting married?” he asked.

“We haven’t set a date yet.”

“Well. Uh...this is great, Emmaline.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Listen, I think I’ll run the rest of the way, okay? See you later.”

Because satisfaction aside, she had to tell Jack. Pronto.

“Sure. I’ll see you back at the ranch. You’re playing some of the couples games with us later, right?” He smiled, but it wasn’t the sweet Old Kevin smile from before. “Wait till you see Naomi in a bikini. That’ll get you motivated to lose some weight.”

Oooh. War had been declared.

“Not everyone is fixated on physical appearance,” she said sweetly. “Some people put more emphasis on kindness, loyalty and decency.”

“Yeah. I used to tell myself the same thing when I was fat. Off you go. Burn those calories. Hey, I’ll race you.”

* * *

JACK WAS SHAVING when the police tried to bust down the door.

Correction. When Officer Neal tried to bust down the door, dressed in running shorts and a T-shirt, drenched in sweat and blowing like a steam train. “Have we been invaded?” he asked, opening up. “Aliens? Meteors? What’s—” She pushed past him, ignoring the fact that he was wearing only a towel. “Why don’t you come in?”

With a sigh—women—he went back into the bathroom and continued shaving. She followed, flipped down the lid of the toilet and sat herself down. “We’re engaged,” she panted.

“Make yourself at ho—what?”

“I’m sorry. I know I said I didn’t want the whole pretend boyfriend thing, but I told Kevin we’re engaged.”

“Then I demand conjugal rights.”

“Shut up, Jack.”

“Is that any way to talk to your fiancé?” He rinsed the razor and continued shaving.

“He was being so nice. He even picked me a flower.”

“Bastard.”

“Exactly! Oh, you’re being sarcastic. Save it, pal. Anyway, he was very sweet. Then he was all condescending, and then I said something about us being engaged. Just let it ride, okay?”

“And your family?”

“Shit.” She closed her eyes. “My parents are pathologically incapable of keeping a secret. I can’t tell them. I’ll call them after we leave this hellhole.”

Another set of frenzied knocking broke the quiet, this time on what sounded like Emmaline’s door.

“Emmaline?” said her mother. “Open up! Why did you keep this from us? Are you sure it isn’t a mistake?”

“Oh, the tangled web we weave,” he said. “Better open the door, Pooh Bear. And give me a second to get dressed, okay?”

She finally noticed. Her face went red. She glanced away from him, then back at his torso, and Jack smiled. “We have a lifetime to explore each other,” he said. “Now open the door before they get a battering ram.”

“I hate lying,” she muttered.

“Your other option is to come clean with Kevin.”

“I don’t hate lying that much.” Then she went through the adjoining door into her room and greeted her family.

Jack finished shaving, rinsed his face and pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. Doting fiancé, check. Hey. Women did things like this. Hadn’t Colleen O’Rourke asked him to pretend to be her boyfriend? Or was that Shelayne Schanta? Whatever. Women got squirrelly around their exes. It was a known fact.

“I knew it!” Angela crowed when Jack joined them. “Jack! You devil!”

Emmaline’s father shook Jack’s hand vigorously. “Welcome to the family.”

Her mom looked puzzled. “Emmaline, are you... I was so sure you were—” Angela gave her a gentle nudge. “Well,” she amended. “This is very happy news.” She gave Em an awkward hug—awkward because Em looked as relaxed as a concrete wall.

“Do you have a ring?” Angela asked.

“Tell them about the ring, sweetheart,” Jack said.

“Oh, yeah. It’s nice. Very, um, pretty. It’s being resized.”

“What kind of cut? Emerald? Cushion? Solitaire?” Angela asked.

“Sort of round,” Em mumbled.

“Why do you have two rooms?” Mrs. Neal asked, glancing around.

Jack lifted an eyebrow. He’d let Em handle this one.

“I... Jack has...a medical...condition. He...he can’t, uh...”

“Shy bladder?” her father suggested. “Don’t worry. I’m the same way.”

Emmaline looked as uncomfortable as if she were giving birth to a large bad-tempered porcupine. “It’s just more spacious this way. Space is good. We like space.”

“The final frontier,” Jack murmured.

“Exactly,” she said. “So. Who’s doing all those stupid couples activities today?”