Once everyone knows the truth, it won’t matter at all.
Chapter 4
Lexi lives in Los Feliz. Nearly all the way across town.
“It’s just up here, on the right,” Bianca says as they pull down the familiar tree-lined street in his car, a beat-up Jeep, which definitely does not fit in with the sea of luxury vehicles parked on seemingly every driveway. “Home sweet home.”
She unbuckles her seatbelt but doesn’t get out of the car.
“Home?” He cuts the engine and turns to look at her.
“Yeah, this is the house I grew up in back when this neighborhood was affordable. Lexi and Chris bought it from my parents when they decided to retire to Arizona. No way they would have been able to live in LA otherwise.”
“I was gonna say, this is . . . really nice.”
They walk in silence up to the front door and they’re about halfway up the brick path when he reaches out and takes her hand in his.
“Can I?” he asks softly, his gaze flickering to the front door, probably to make sure they’re not overheard, which is a good instinct because if Bianca knows her sister, she’s at the window spying right now.
Her eyes follow his and they both watch the curtains in the living room shift a bit. Overheard, definitely not, but observed,for sure. “Of course. If we’re going to pull this off, we have to be comfortable touching each other . . . within reason.”
“Within reason?”
“I think I can trust you to figure out where the line is.”
“You sure about that?” he rumbles, stepping into her and raising his free hand to where the thin strap of her dress has fallen off her shoulder. He hooks the soft material around his pinky and lifts it gently back into place before running his hand down her arm to lace their fingers together.
“How’s that?” he asks.
“That’s good,” she breathes out, and has to look away because if she doesn’t she’s going to pull him closer and push up to the tips of her toes and kiss him, Lexi be damned.
He just nods, and then turns, tugging softly on her hand as he moves toward the front door.
The house – it was home for so long – is Spanish style, with the quintessential orange barrel-tiled roof and walls of stucco painted a bright white. There’s a little bit of wildness in the landscaping, her brother-in-law a lot less inclined to worry about keeping a pristine lawn the way her dad had. Instead, the flowers and greenery lining the edges of the house are a bit overgrown, but in a homey, lived-in kind of way. She prefers it, not that she’ll ever tell her dad that.
Bianca’s grip on Xavier’s hand tightens and he squeezes back before she lets out a heavy breath, lifts her free hand and knocks.
The large wooden door in front of them swings open.
“Surprise!”
It’s not one voice or even two, but what sounds like at least ten, maybe a dozen.
Bianca’s hand clamps down, probably crushing Xavier’s fingers if the half-breathed-out curse he lets out is any indication.
Holy shit.
So, not an intimate dinner, but a party with literally everyone who didn’t show up last night.
Her sister did this. Her big sister decided to throw her the celebration that should have happened last night. Her pride prickles against it because this is what she wanted, isn’t it? Her friends and family fooled into thinking that she’s marrying the man standing at her side, holding her hand, warm and steady. They proved her point and then some, showing up with barely a few hours’ notice, all because there’s a ring on her finger.
Bianca loathes being right sometimes.
Lexi is front and center, her brother-in-law smiling widely beside his wife, an arm around her shoulders, like he’s proud of her for pulling off the surprise. The rest of Bianca’s friends are in a line behind them, already nursing drinks, laughing and cheering, and then they’re surrounded, being pulled in for hugs and cheek kisses and introductions to Xavier that they should know would have happened a long time ago if she had any real intentions of marrying him.
But no one says anything about it.
They just adopt him, immediately.
