The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(80)

“We love each other,” she parroted, her voice squeaking. He squeezed her hand again, and she gave him a panicky look.

“Glad to hear it,” Bethany said briskly. Again, her eyes scanned him up and down. “Be that as it may, you’re aware that marital fraud constitutes a fine of up to a quarter million dollars and a ten-year jail sentence.”

Honor swallowed with a dry click, and her little dog whined, wagging her tail and scrabbling to get at Bethany. So far, the only person Ratty seemed to hate was Tom.

“Lots of times, the U.S. citizen will do it to help out a friend,” the woman continued, extending a finger to Spike, which the dog promptly licked. “Are you a sweet baby? You are? Are you? You’re so cute! Yes, you are! What’s your name? Huh? What’s your cute little name?”

“Spike,” Honor breathed.

“Oh, I love that. Yes, I do! I love it! Anyway, Ms. Holland, helping out a friend doesn’t make marital fraud any less illegal.”

“This isn’t one of those situations,” Honor said. Her hand was clammy.

“Great. Then I’m sure you two won’t mind if I separate you and ask you some questions.”

“Of course not,” Tom said. “Do we, Honor?”

“Nope,” she squeaked.

Bethany smiled tightly. “Good. Mind if I see your upstairs before we get started?”

“Not at all.” Tom stood up and smiled, offering his hand to the woman. She took it, her face coloring slightly.

“This is a cute house,” she said.

“We like it,” he said.

Thank God Honor had brought some things in, because the place was looking vastly improved from when Tom had been here alone. Pictures hung on the wall, the sofa had pillows, there were matching towels in the loo. It looked, in other words, like a real home, not just a temporary place to crash.

“How long have you two been together?” Bethany asked. “Spike, you said her name was? Spike, how long have Mommy and Daddy been together, huh, cute baby? Hmm?”

Dear God. “A couple of months,” Tom said. “One of those instant-attraction situations.”

“Right,” Honor croaked.

“Spike! Is this your ball? Is this your ball? Go get it!” Bethany tossed the ball. It rolled under the chair. “I’ll get it for you, babykins! Yes! I will!”

As the woman got down to retrieve Babykins’s ball, Tom turned to Honor and gave her a quick kiss. “Get a grip,” he whispered against her mouth.

“Okay,” she whispered back, but her eyes were darting everywhere. He kissed her again, more slowly, cupping her head in his hands, her hair soft and feathery. She smelled so clean and simple, so good. After a second, her hand went to his chest, and her mouth softened.

They might have to pretend to be madly in love, but he didn’t have to pretend that kissing her was incredible. She had this way of melting into him, his brittle little bride, and seemed...helpless when he kissed her. Soft and sweet and a little surprised.

“And the upstairs?” Bethany asked. “Come on, Spikey! Upstairs!”

“Right this way,” Tom said, stepping back from Honor. Spike barked once, in love with Bethany Woods.

Thank God Honor was a bit anal retentive about neatness, because the bed in Charlie’s room was perfectly made, and not so much as a slipper or a pair of earrings gave away the fact that she slept in here every night. Smart girl. She’d anticipated this. He owed her one. More than one, that was certain.

“Who does model airplanes?” Bethany asked, surveying the half-finished Stearman on the bureau.

“My unofficial stepson,” Tom said. “Um, I was engaged to his mum a few years ago, but she died. Her son and I are still close, though.” Another lie.

“That’s beautiful,” Bethany said. “What a nice guy you are. Is he so nice, Spike? Huh? Hmm?” She picked up the little dog and kissed her.

“Thank you,” he said, ignoring Honor’s shallow panting. She really needed to calm down. So did Bethany, for that matter, he thought as Spike licked the woman’s mouth. Disgusting.

Bethany walked into Tom’s room and opened the closet. Again, well done, Honor. Her clothes made it seem like it was her room, too. “So when’s the wedding?”

“Soon,” Honor said.

“We thought about eloping,” Tom said, “but her family want to be there, and she’s got to get the poofy dress and all that. And I want her to be happy, of course.” He looked at her. “You’ll make a beautiful bride, darling.”

“I love weddings,” Bethany said.

“You’re welcome to come to ours,” he said. Honor gave a squeak, then covered it with a cough, and Bethany smiled and meandered into the bathroom. Opened the cupboard and nodded.

“You’re laying it on a little thick,” Honor breathed.

“She’s eating it up,” he whispered back. “Would it kill you to smile? We’re supposed to be in love.”

“I’m not good at faking.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious. Follow my lead. Darling.”

“Honor,” Bethany said briskly, back in business mode, “would you mind staying up here and answering these questions?” She opened her enormous purse and pulled out a sheaf of papers.