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Willow’s excited grin makes my heart thrash against my ribs.
While I wait for whatever wild card Willow will throw at me, my mind tumbles down an unexpected rabbit hole. What would it be like to have someone this bright and beautiful in my life? Someone who went through the trouble of buying a briefcase and cashing out five grand just to show me that I mean more to her than money?
“I’m happy for you, Shane.”
Though I’m vaguely aware of Brielle speaking, I’m too dialed in to Willow now.
She spins in my arms, her fingers lacing behind my neck. “First, we have to decide on our couple name. Off the top of my head, there’s Shanelow, Shillow, or Willane. Then I’ll design a monogram so we can put that sucker on everything. I’m talking pillowcases, flip-flops, cloth napkins, the works.” She gasps, lighting up. “You could get it tattooed over that empty space beyond your baseball diamond.”
“Willane feels like the obvious choice,” I say, the corner of my mouth twitching. “And I’m always up for new ink. What would the design look like?”
Her gaze drifts over my shoulder as she thinks. “I’d intertwine the W and S. Play with feminine and masculine script styles. Filigree details, maybe? I’d want to sketch a few options.”
“We should all get together some—” Brielle starts.
“Oh! I’ve got a sketchbook in the passenger seat,” Willow says, wiggling out of my arms.
She fumbles her key fob, hitting the panic button. The horn honks incessantly as a continuous alarm sounds over the flashing of her hazard lights. Baby Talullah wakes with a wail, not to be outdone.
“Sorry!” Willow shouts, dropping the keys and kicking them under the car.
When her head tilts back with an award-winning groan, I can’t subdue the grin lifting my lips.
Dropping to my knees, I reach beneath Willow’s car. But by the time I retrieve the keys and turn off the alarm, Brielle is long gone.
Chapter 10
Shane
“That was genius,” I tell Willow, still kneeling as I hold her keys in my upturned palm.
“What was?”
“Setting off the car alarm to get her to leave.”
Brielle sounded like she was a millisecond away from suggesting a double date—something that would be as enjoyable as an ice pick to the eardrum. I’m glad Brielle bought our little charade, but under no circumstances would I want to spend any extended time with her. It’s bad enough I have to interact with Mike on a regular basis.
“That was an accident. I warned you that I’m a trainwreck.” Pink splotches dot Willow’s cheeks as she picks at her nail polish. “Are you disappointed?”
“Not in the least.”
“Really?”
I feel my lips tug upward. “Really.”
Willow gasps, covering her mouth with her hands. “Are you…smiling?”
An unexpected snicker leaves my lips at Willow’s teasing tone.
“And I got a chuckle?” Her fingers frame my face, and the air whooshes from my lungs. It feels like a giant vacuum is stealing all the oxygen. “Is this real, or am I in a coma?”
“It’s real?”
I don’t know why it comes out as a question. Or why it sounds like I’m gargling a quarry’s worth of boulders. Probably because I haven’t cracked a full smile in months.
The way Willow’s delighted gaze slides from my mouth to my cheeks to linger on my eyes makes warmth flood my veins. It’s only then that I realize I’m still kneeling like one would in an actual proposal, her keys extended like a ring box.
Suddenly, our ruse doesn’t seem like the worst idea. It would solve a lot of problems—for me, but more importantly, for Willow. Before I can mentally unpack my curveball idea, “Hey There Delilah” blasts from inside her car.
