Page 108 of Fake it ’Til Fall

“Lunch with your mother,” I say. “Late afternoon at the vineyard. Dinner somewhere neutral.”

Her eyes cut to mine. “Neutral where?”

“Public.”

“In Winterberry, public is not neutral. Public is an audience with scones.”

“Then we get takeout.”

She blinks. “Takeout? We’re supposed to leave tonight. No way we’re staying—we leave.”

“After dinner.”

“No. Before emotional curfew. I have one. It’s legally binding, personally invented, and expires the second my mother says, ‘Just one more thing.’”

“Day.”

“I’m serious. We arrive, we perform casual romantic stability, we visit both mothers, we do not sleep within town limits. That’s how horror movies start. First, you agree to stay the night. Next thing you know, someone’s aunt is asking why you don’t wear more cream.”

I glance at her. “Cream?”

“It’s a lifestyle color. Don’t engage.”

Before I can answer, the sign appears.

WELCOME TO WINTERBERRY COVE

EST. 1798

POP. 4,200

It doesn’t say small enough that they know when you’re lying, but it should.

Winterberry knew my career was on fire before I admitted there was smoke. Winterberry had opinions before I had a plan. Winterberry probably still has opinions organized by family, property line, and whether someone’s grandmother once lost a pie contest unfairly back in the 80s.

The pie contest comes up more than it should.

I’ve heard people discuss it more often than actual crimes.

The sky starts going pink at the edges when we turn off the main road.

“You’re doing the jaw thing,” Daisy says.

“I don’t have a jaw thing.”

“You have a whole jaw situation. It’s load-bearing. You’re holding the car together with your molars.”

I say nothing.

Mostly because she’s not wrong, and I hate rewarding accuracy before noon.

She shifts toward me, and there’s enough morning now that I can feel her looking. “Hey. Wolfe.”

My grip tightens on the wheel.

She’s never called me that.

The hockey name. The locker-room name. The one guys used when they wanted to get my attention before a faceoff or warn me before a bad hit. It shouldn’t sound like that in her mouth. It shouldn’t sound careful.