“Duly noted and right back at you.” Lachlan slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Now, your brood will descend shortly. I suggest we use our time to fill in some blanks and create a believable story.” He gazed longingly toward the kitchen. “And make sandwiches. Sham marriages make me hungry.”
Within the hour, Lachlan had eaten two ham sandwiches and a handful of carrots, while I’d received a partial tour of the house and spiraled further into absolute panic.
“Why can’t I see your office?” I asked as we walked back down the stairs and headed back to the living room.
“Because you’ll mess up the mojo.” Lachlan ran his hand down the metal banister. “It’s my sacred workspace.”
“In other words, it’s where you keep the corpses of your previous wives.”
“That, plus it’s really messy.” He shoved his hands in the back pockets of his faded jeans. “Wearein agreement your family’s not going to believe our story, right?”
“Correct. Not for a second.”
“But we can’t afford any leaks or any more people in the know till the investigation wraps, so we push the lie anyway.”
I swallowed hard, predicting doom. “I guess.”
“You mean yes.”
“Yes.” I leapt from my seat, nerves firing like race car pistons.
Lachlan’s hand on my arm stopped me. “I need to know you’re in, Olivia.”
I was about to affirm my lukewarm commitment when the doorbell rang. “Oh, Lord. They’re here.” My watch said we still had twenty minutes. “They’re early. That issomy family.”
Lachlan took my shoulders in his hands, his touch firm and warm. His eyes held mine steady. “We can do this.”
“They’re not going to believe us,” I said. “They’re going to grill us until we froth at the mouth and spill everything.”
“I won’t let that happen. Maybe they don’t buy any of it, but we stick to the story. It was you, me, and a bunch of disgusting love between us. We followed our hearts right to the altar.”
“That sounds so nauseating.”
He nodded gravely. “My third sandwich is threatening to come back up any second.”
“When did you have a third?”
“Snuck it in when you were sobbing in the bathroom a few minutes ago.”
“You caught that, did you?”
“Pretty sure even the neighbors heard it.” Lachlan ran his hands up and down my arms. “You have good lungs.”
My new husband was so complimentary.
The doorbell rang again, followed by heavy pounding.
“Let me in, Lachlan Hayes!” called my grandmother from the other side. “You scalawag! You despot! You gorgeous rascal of a woman stealer!”
Then Frannie’s voice penetrated the wall. “Your intentions are nefarious! Your words are toxic honey! Your buttocks appear nicely firm!”
Lachlan cut his eyes toward me. “Your people are so weird.” Then he smiled as he opened the door. “Hello, Sutton Clan. My adorable tush and I would like to welcome you to my home.” He hooked his meaty arm around my shoulders. “Ourhome, that is.”
ChapterTwelve
OLIVIA
If I’d thoughtthe paparazzi in Vegas had been loud and pushy, they had nothing on my family.
