Page 12 of The Snuggle Is Real

"She's lying," Malcolm says. "I said she was the best decision I ever made."

There’s suddenly a lump in my throat. I pull out of Malcolm’s embrace, my cheeks warm, and reach down to grab my mug. I take a huge gulp, and choke on the bourbon that has overpowered the apple cider.

Malcolm gives my back a massive whomp, nearly sending me flying off of the straw bale. I only keep from falling by him grabbing onto the back of my sweater and hauling me back.

It makes me laugh.

The moment is gone.

I give a solemn nod to the group gathered. "See? Romantic."

Chapter Four

Malcolm

Later, the fire burns down low enough to roast marshmallows and make s’mores. MacKay makes a toast that's mostly about how he doesn't deserve Faith—which is true—and Faith tears up a little. My mother bawls like a baby and both Lauren and Winnie wipe the corners of their eyes.

Emily, who claims she is jaded and way the hell over the whole wedding thing sniffles a little and then pretends she doesn't. But I watch her do it and she can deny it all she wants but she does not have the heart of stone she claims to have.

I watch her all night, honestly.

I watch her encourage guests to join a group of Faith's siblings—and Lord, there is a lot of them—doing a line dance. I watch her combining dishes when they run low and relight the flame underneath one of the chaffing dishes. She’s so efficient and purposeful that I doubt anyone even notices she’s tending to the spread of food. It’s second nature to her at this point to make sure an event goes off without a hitch, even one she hasn’t planned.

I watch her make Winnie laugh so hard she snorts cider out her nose.

And I watch a man I don't know, in a very expensive cashmere sweater, walk up to her at the s'mores table and hand her a perfectly golden marshmallow. Who wears cashmere to a bonfire? It will smell like burning wood until April, no matter how many times he gets it dry cleaned.

She laughs at something he says.

My jaw clenches.

"Jaw thing," Ian says quietly beside me.

"Shut up."

"Who is that?"

"No idea." I take a long sip of cider, which has gone cold. "Doesn't matter."

Ian gives me a long look. He knows me well enough not to say anything else. It's worse than if he had.

Emily finds her way back to me a few minutes later, holding two s'mores, with a smear of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. It’s clear she already ate the one that was gifted to her by sweater guy. She hands me one of the s’mores.

"Who was that?" I ask, and I'm very casual about it. Extremely casual. The most casual man in Kentucky.

"Faith's cousin Grant. He's in real estate in Louisville. He wanted to know if I plan corporate events." She tilts her head at me. "Why?"

"No reason."

"You did the jaw thing."

"I don't have a jaw thing."

"Malcolm Lennox." She steps closer, and her voice drops so only I can hear. "Are you jealous of my fake boyfriend's competition?"

"Your fake boyfriend is just trying to keep the story straight," I tell her. "Can't have you flirting with other men in front of my mother. Very suspicious."

"Of course. For the story." She reaches up and, with the pad of her thumb, wipes something off my lip. Chocolate, probably. Her touch lingers for one heartbeat too long. "For your mother."