“You’re right, Hattie. Lots of teeth. Cheeks engaged. Major smile.” After flipping the store sign to closed, Rosie eased herself into a seat beside Hattie at the Lost Story Bookshop one week later.
“I smile all the time.” Sitting in my favorite green chair, I sipped my coffee and tossed my phone into my bag. I had one hour until I was supposed to meet Lachlan at Paolo’s.
Hattie observed me with those therapist’s eyes. “Yes,” she agreed. “Lately you do.”
I did not want to dig into that with my sisters. Had I enjoyed the last few monthswith Lachlan? Yes. Had something shifted between us since his birthday? Oh, my goodness, yes. It seemed every time we’d been together, some Jenga puzzle piece of old assumptions fell away, and I feared soon that tower would crash and leave me with a broken heart. “Can we get back to how awesome Lachlan’s interview with Anderson Cooper was?” I set my mug down on the dark oak table that squatted between me and my sisters like a boundary line. “Hattie, I’ve bragged on your new therapy initiative at the farm. Rosie, I’ve praised your Thanksgiving romance novel display.” It really was a clever combination of cleavage and feathers. “I do believe I deserve more attagirls for his recent triumphs.” Grinning, I propped my heels on the coffee table. “Please commence with bragging.”
“Lachlan’s birthday party went well too,” Hattie said.
I opened my laptop and clicked on a document. “I think so. Thank you for all the help. Now, can we get to next month’s store events?” Rosie had three young adult authors doing a book signing and writing workshop for teens, and we needed to decide on promotion.
Rosie peeled the wrapper off one of Frannie’s cupcakes. “I’ll post on my socials and in my newsletter. We’ll call the paper and put some flyers in town. But back to you, Olivia. Lachlan couldn’t take his eyes off you at his party.”
I’d noticed his gaze on me often that night, and every moment we’d been together since. While I’d often found Taylor rolling his eyes at my extremes, Lachlan made me feel like I could be myself around him, and not only did he like it, but maybe I even made him happy. “We are married,” I reminded them. “Crazy about each other and all that.”
“Lachlan was clearly touched by the trick-or-treating idea,” Hattie said. “Appealing to a wounded inner child is a thoughtful, loving choice, Olivia.”
My sister’s pointed scrutiny made me squirm. “And I got a bag of candy to boot, right?”
“Joke about it all you want,” Rosie scolded, “but it was a really special moment for all of us to witness. You two totally get each other, you know? Your rushed relationship might’ve been quite unconventional—especially for you—but don’t waste a single second of it. Take it from me, life is short, and you’re lucky to have someone to share it with.”
“Look, Olivia,” Hattie said, “we had our doubts about you two, but seeing you and Lachlan together on Halloween made me realize he really does love you.”
Love me?
No.
How on earth would Hattie get that impression? Surely it was just the façade we’d carefully crafted. Did I think he liked me quite a bit? Yes. But love? Surely not.
The very idea both thrilled and frightened. I’d been fooled by the illusion of love once before, and I couldn’t make that mistake again.
“I’m glad you feel better about my…unconventionalmarriage,” I finally managed.
“We both do,” Rosie said. “It’s clear you’re crazy about Lachlan as well.”
My smile froze on my face.
A retrospective of my time with Lachlan played in front of my eyes. Waking up in his arms in Vegas, our kiss in the bookshop, dancing with him at the governor’s gala. Lachlan’s laugh, his creative, sharp mind. The way my hand so easily sought his out, and the perfect fit of my fingers against his. His scent and his wry, boyish grin. The way he played the part of a loving husband unexpectedly well.
So well that I’d accidentally tumbled down a path paved with hearts and cupid bows.
But I swore to get back to my timeline. My Ten-Year Plan had never steered me wrong, no matter how many times I’d failed it. The plan was solid. It was well thought out. It had proven that love was a detour I couldn’t afford until I reached my goals.
Maybe I did have it bad for my husband. Wonderful, silly, kissable Lachlan.
But Lachlan wasn’t on my schedule.
And I couldn’t fall for the man I would soon have to divorce.
ChapterForty-Three
OLIVIA
Lachlan
The tux fitting is really just an excuse to see me in my underwear, isn’t it?
Olivia
