The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(52)

Time for that to change. And oddly enough, it felt good.

“Okay, you guys, that’s enough,” she said. “I’m moving in with Tom. Sorry you don’t approve, but I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You live under my roof, don’t you? My roof, my rules.”

“I just told you, I’m moving out.”

“Why would a guy want to move in with you, Honor? You’re so mean.” Jack grinned.

“Jackie, for shame!” Mrs. J. said in a rare reproach.

“She’s not mean,” Dad said. “She’s my angel.”

Honor smiled sweetly at her brother. “An angel,” she murmured, scratching her cheek with her middle finger.

“An angel who should know better,” Dad added.

Jack grinned. “Let her go, Dad,” he said. “If she doesn’t jump on this, she’ll just end up here, changing your diapers and owning more and more cats.”

“I’m more of a dog person.”

“Really? I thought you had a cat.”

“Spike is a dog.”

“You sure?”

“Bite me. Anyway, I would love for everyone to meet Tom, so he’s coming here, and so are a few other people. Wednesday night, okay? Okay. Mrs. Johnson? Would you like me to have this catered, or would you—”

“How dare you, Honor! Has my cooking become so abhorrent to you that—”

“Oh, heck, look at the time. I have things to do. Talk among yourselves.”

* * *

THREE DAYS LATER, Honor opened the door and smiled at the boy in front of her.

Eesh.

“Hi!” she said. “You must be Charlie. It’s really nice to meet you. I’m Honor.”

He lifted his black-lined eyes to hers as if each eyeball weighed three hundred pounds, then shuffled past.

“You’re the woman, then?” said an older lady.

“Uh, yes! Hi! I’m Honor Holland. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kellogg.”

“Mmm.”

Mr. Kellogg came in next. “Hello,” he said. “Do I smell mold? I’m allergic to mold. And cheese. I hope we’re not having any cheese tonight. I’m lactose intolerant. But I’ll have a Scotch. Thanks, dear.”

My kingdom for a Xanax, Honor thought.

In the interest of killing all family members with one stone (the literal idea of which held greater and greater appeal), Honor had decided that the Kelloggs and the Hollands should meet at once. And the next time such a brainchild occurred to her, she hoped someone would hit her with a crowbar, because it couldn’t be any less uncomfortable than this.

“I love him,” Faith said. “I mean, wow. He’s really cute!” Her sister flashed a huge smile. “Where did you find him?”

“Are we talking about how hot your guy is?” Prudence said, coming over to join them. “Love the accent. I missed about thirty percent of what he was saying, but I was too busy looking at his neck. I would lick that if I was single. Hey, Carl, get me some more wine, okay, pal?”

“Darling, your family utterly terrifies me.” Tom came up behind her and put his arms around her. “Give us a kiss, what do you say? Oh, hallo, girls, didn’t see you there.” Honor watched her sisters visibly sag with swooniness.

She herself, not so much. First of all, she wasn’t sure how much Tom had had to drink. He was being very jolly, and it was making her nervous. And secondly, he was playing the part of doting boyfriend/fiancé a little too forcefully. Which was nice. Except it was uncomfortable, since it was fake. But it was also nice. Which meant she was pathetic, to be lapping up this attention, when she knew quite well that Tom was in this for fraud purposes only. Which didn’t make the feeling of his arms any less incredible. No. He wasn’t built like a math teacher at all. Or a mechanical engineer.

“I bet you’re great in bed,” Prudence said.

“I’ve heard that,” Tom said. “Though Honor is more of the expert on my abilities, aren’t you, darling?”

“I hear Mrs. Johnson calling me,” she said, extracting herself from Tom’s brawny arms.

An eternity later, they were crammed around the dining room table. Mrs. Kellogg couldn’t seem to stop eyeing Tom and licking her lips, which made Honor’s skin crawl, given that a) Tom had been engaged to Mrs. Kellogg’s daughter, b) he was now about to be engaged to Honor and c) Mrs. Kellogg was a good thirty years older than Tom. There were cougars, and then there was disgusting.

Mr. Kellogg, meanwhile, sniffed each piece of food before putting it in his mouth. Abby was secretly (or not) texting; Charlie was staring at her, then at his plate. Her siblings, Ned, Goggy and Pops, Dad and Mrs. Johnson all talked at once, it seemed. Carl ate without pausing between bites, and Levi seemed content to bristle with testosterone and occasionally stroke Faith’s neck.

Tom sat next to Honor, his shoulder solid and warm against hers.

Any minute now, someone was going to start the interrogation. The theme song from Jaws began playing in her brain. Da-dun. Da-dun. Dadundadundadundadun...doo doo loo, doo doo loo...

“So how did you meet my daughter?” Dad asked sternly.

Tom swallowed a third of a glass of wine. “At O’Rourke’s, actually. Lovely place. Nice people, those twins.”