Page 55 of Sucker For You

Ellipses bubbled—and Wes hit his brakes to avoid flattening a surfer crossing the road toward the Eolian Dunes Preserve. In the passenger seat, Isabel’s anxious fingers froze. She clutched the seat belt.

“But she can’t. Ethan’s car is still here in Monterey. Because I. . .”

“Yeah.” Wes accelerated again.

Her voice was very quiet as they curved inland through agricultural fields of strawberries and broccoli; he had to strain to hear her over another flurry of texts, this time from his mother reminding Adrian to drink plenty of water and fruit juice on the plane—as if her younger son were one of her Michigan first graders instead of a grown man in his thirties, with Manhattan real estate and a fully funded 401(k). “Does your family know? About me? About our. . . arrangement?”

He sneaked a glance at her. Her cheeks were pink but her lips were set, her shoulders hunched inside her otter fleece.

She didn’t like lies, did she?

Neither did he. He told her honestly, “I just swapped in my phone’s domestic SIM card. I haven’t told anyone anything yet. Only Erin knows that we’ve even met, since I bombed your call with Ethan on Saturday.”

“Right,” with a shallow exhale.

“If anyone in my family asks directly, I’m not going to lie to them about us. But we don’t have to actually volunteer anything,except our whirlpool romance story. Not until after we pass the immigration interview. At that point it won’t matter as much if everyone’s sticking to the same script. Adrian can run his mouth, and it won’t impact your legal situation. Then I’ll tell them the truth—the parts that are mine to share. But only once you’re safe. Right now, the real details aren’t their business,” whatever the other Monaghans might think.

He spun Baby’s wheels off the highway, over the Old Salinas River, by chain-link fences on Sandholdt Road and into MORI’s parking lot. While the engine cooled through a pause in his text deluge, he continued, “We’ll break our engagement news when you want to. When you’re ready. Though—not to put more pressure on your timeline, but—if you want to see Erin again, meet Adrian, and maybe start telling them about some of. . .this? We’re planning to get together during my assignment. It’s rare for us to be in the same place at the same time, except for holidays in Michigan. Not always even then. My work contracts can strand me on Lang Tengah Island or Las Islas Malvinas in December.”

“Oh.”

“But the three of us. . .” He drummed his thumb on the steering wheel. “It’ll be noisy. There might be roughhousing. We can be a lot, sometimes. Most of the time. I’ll understand if you don’t want to meet them right now, if you want to wait to tell them about. . . until we really have to, and—”

Silence.

Isabel’s hands were strangling each other.

He forced himself to slow down again.

Don’t screw this up.

“It’ll be whenever you want. However much you want to share about yourself, beyond the story we’re telling. But whenever andhowever much we share with my family, just be prepared. They’re going to like you.”

“Will they?” Brief as it was, her look raked him with dark skepticism. Her fingers interlocked tighter. “When they hear the full truth, won’t they be angry? I wouldn’t blame them, if they blame me for involving you.”

“Involvingme?” This was safer ground. He snorted. “Remind me, Isabel: who on Sandholdt Beach—just down there, past the curb—proposed to whom? Then remind me: who’s getting tax benefits and a boat?”

“Yes, but—”

“Like I said, we don’t have to tell them any personal details that you don’t want people to know. We’ll just repeat our whirlpool romance script right now. Next September I’ll explain the boat-and-visa angle. Because, no lies. But anything private? About you, or about us? Zipped lips, I promise.”

“Won’t they—”

“—speculate? Sure. Given how everything went down with Ethan, though, Erin’s headed for quicksand if she tries to pass judgment. I know how to shut Adrian up, too. My mom will be thrilled. My dad might, or might not, notice that anything’s different. Unless you like model trains. So—let them wonder. They’ll get our story now, and our facts when it’s safe. Any speculation only matters if they do it in court. But why would they?”

A frown persisted in wrinkling her nose. Isabel evidently believed him enough to nod, however, even while she nibbled at her thumbnail and said, “They. . . they still might not like me. Even without the whole truth. I’m not always. . .”

“They’ll like you,” he said again.

I like you.

Which he didn’t say.

But there wasn’t much point in denying that hedidlike her. Not to himself. Not when the memory of her gentle, clever hands in the shower was branded on his skin, more vivid than the moon jellies’ stings. Not after their dive and daring octopus rescue. And a sweet-bitter ache lingered in his throat from their kiss on the wharf. . . All this, in under forty-eight hours! His desire wasn’t part of their agreement, though. It was just another complication for Isabel. He was supposed to make her life easier. Simpler. She shouldn’t have to worry about him. Or about herself with him.

She needed him, but she didn’t needthis.

So, easy and simple:I won’t tell her.