The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(48)

Damn. She already liked that face way too much.

He still said nothing. “So here’s my basic information,” she said, handing over a piece of paper. “You should memorize this—”

“And then burn it?”

“Yes. Oh, okay, you’re making a joke. Very funny, but yes, get rid of it.”

“Honor Grace Holland. Pretty name, by the way. Birthday, January 4. Cornell, Wharton, very impressive, darling.”

“Thanks. We should also make up a story about how we met and, um, fell in love. And we have to make sure your aunt and my grandmother don’t say anything.”

“Right. Aunt Candy won’t, I’m sure. Can your grandmother keep a secret?”

“Goggy?”

“Dear God, you don’t call her that to her face, do you?”

“Yes. She can keep quiet. I hope.” It would be a first.

“Fingers crossed, then.”

“So what should our story be?” Honor asked. Her cheeks warmed again. Everyone in the universe had a better story than this. Even the people who met online had cute stories about how their emails had sparked something, or how they met for the first time, smiled and bada-bing, they were in love. eCommitment was much more romantic than a contract negotiated in a stone basement, like some illicit agreement between two shady government agencies.

“Why don’t we just stick as close to the truth as possible?” Tom asked. “You picked me up in a bar, we shagged, you’re getting older, we figured what the hell? Let’s do it.”

She stiffened. “You know what I did this afternoon? I watched YouTube interviews about convincing INS that you’re actually in love. That’s the only reason you can marry someone seeking a green card. It has to be a love match.”

He smiled again. “Sorry. I love you, Honor. Will you marry me?”

Her jaw clenched. “This is your ass on the line, Tom. And your relationship with Charlie. So try to be serious, okay? What do you love about me?”

“It’s not your sense of humor.”

Had she thought he was charming? Lonely? Adorable? When was that again?

“Sorry,” he said. “I appreciate this. It’s just...I’m nervous. Not just about getting caught, but about what you’re offering.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, then looked back at her. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

Oh, yeah, that’s what it was.

Sincerity.

“Well,” she said, and her voice was a little husky. “Let’s give it a shot.” She paused. “But, um, I don’t think we should sleep together. Again. I mean, you know. Until we get a sense of whether or not this is going to work.”

Now why’d you say that, dummy? her eggs asked. We just opened that special anti-sag moisturizer.

Because. She was already risking an awful lot. She’d be lying to her family, linking her life with a virtual stranger, committing a felony.

She wasn’t going to risk her heart, too. Not yet. And if last night was any indication, her heart would be following her body and opening right up to him.

“That sounds wise,” Tom said, and yes, she was a little disappointed.

“I’ll need some information on you. Your family and where you went to school.”

“Very well.”

“And you need to meet my family. I thought Wednesday would be good. I can tell them we’ve been seeing each other for about a month. I don’t think I can stretch it further than that.”

“You’re a bit terrifying, you know that?” She gave him a pointed look. “Fine. Wednesday works for me, I’m sure.”

“And then we’ll move in together.”

“And then we’ll move in together.”

They looked at each other from across the table. Then Tom reached out, and they shook on it.





CHAPTER TEN

TOM WAITED UNTIL the last school bus had gone before he went into the school. Much brighter and bigger than his own high school. Smelled better, too, as there was no tire factory down the block.

“Can I help you?” asked the secretary in the front office.

“Yes, thank you. I need a word with the principal.”

“Are you a parent here?” the woman asked.

“No. But I think there may be a bullying problem with one of your students.”

She gave him a dead-eyed stare and, without looking away, picked up her phone and pushed a button. “Bullying complaint,” she said. A second later, another woman came into the office. She was short and squat with graying hair and an ill-fitting suit.

“Hey,” she said. “I know you, dude. You box at my gym.”

“Hello,” he said. “Tom Barlow.”

“Dr. Didier. Call me Ellen. I was gonna ask you to spot me the other day. I lift weights. Tournaments, stuff like that. I’m a little old to go pro at this point, but I love it. I can press about two-fifty at this point. How about you?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.”

“We should be spotting partners!” She flashed him a broad smile. “So what can I do for you? You said bullying? Come into my office.”

She certainly seemed cheerful, he had to give her that. Her office was typically crowded, and she whipped off her suit jacket, revealing massive shoulders. Flexed her biceps. “Not bad, right?”