Page 26 of Blue Line

“Your money is no good here,” I tell her.

“Weston, I can pay for my own food,” she hisses.

“Stop protesting, Hadley Jane, and just say thank you,” I retort, handing my card to the cashier, who glances between the two of us before completing the transaction. I grab our food bags, and we head out the door of the restaurant in silence.

“Thank you,” Hadley finally says.

“Was that so hard?”

“No, Weston Adam, but I wasn’t expecting you to pay for my dinner.”

“Adam? That’s not my middle name.”

“So what is it? It’s only fair that I know yours if you know mine, especially since we’re engaged.”

I say nothing, unlocking my Jeep and opening her door. I wait for her to be safely inside before getting in and handing her the bags of food.

“What’s your middle name?” she repeats as I buckle my seat belt and push the start button.

“None of your business,” I say as I back out of the parking spot.

“Fine. Be that way, Weston Theodore.”

I snort. “That’s not it either.”

“Well, I’ll figure it out.”

“If you say so.”

I swear I can hear her eye roll, but I ignore it.

“What do you enjoy photographing?” I ask after a few minutes.

“Depends. Wildlife photography is my favorite. But I like other types too—sports, events, and even street photography. Why?”

“Just curious. Trying to get to know my fake fiancée better.”

“Well, your fake fiancée is failing at being a photographer,” she mutters.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex.

She doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if she’s going to answer my question. It’s none of my business, and I won’t push her, but I am curious. Inside my apartment, we make our way to the kitchen, and she takes a seat at the counter and starts pulling our food out of the bags.

“Water?” I ask, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet.

I make a mental note to find out what things she likes to eat and drink so I can add them to my weekly grocery order.

“Please.”

I fill up the cups, pass her one, then sit next to her.

We eat in silence for a few minutes before she says, “Do you really want to know?”

I pause, my taco halfway to my mouth. “Hadley, if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that if I ask you a question, of course I want to hear your answer.”

She studies me for a couple of seconds before setting her half-eaten taco down on the wrapper and saying, “I’ve been doing this whole photography thing for a few years now, except for when I was here helping Holt last season with Hazel, and still haven’t established myself.”

I start to ask her what she means, but she shakes her head at me, so I keep my mouth shut.