Chapter 39

Evie

"R

eady?" Adam asks, placing my suitcase into the trunk of his silver Honda SUV before opening the passenger door for me.

"As I'll ever be." My response lacks the cheer I intended. I latch the seat belt, taking in the worn fabric seats and plastic dashboard.

"That's the spirit!" Adam says, his tone dripping with good-natured sarcasm.

As Adam takes the wheel, I ask, "No judgment here, but why are you driving this thing?"

Adam pats the dashboard. "It reminds me of how it all began. Keeps me humble, you know?" His expression turns thoughtful. "But I do have a backup Range Rover in the garage if you prefer."

Not a phrase one hears every day. A backup Range Rover. "Nope, the Honda's fine."

Adam smiles and pulls the car onto the road, his magnificent mountain home receding in my sideview mirror.

"You do realize this entire venture is insane," I say.

"Not sure I'd go with insane."

"Well, let's review. You are bringing me, a woman you only met a few days ago, to your sister's wedding, after tricking both her and your parents into believing we are getting married."

I lift my ring finger, wiggling it.

"Touché. Don't forget your new employment."

I open a bag of trail mix and shake some out into my mouth. Adam extends his hand, and I sprinkle some into his palm. "How could I? I went from years at my law firm to your in-house counsel within a matter of minutes. And my only job requirement was my skill as an impostor."

Adam glances my way. "Having regrets?"

"No, not really. Or better said, not yet. Zane is convinced your sister is going to figure this all out. He may be right."

"I respectfully disagree. We have this down, Evie. Even with Steph's exceptional sniffing skills, she won't figure it out."

"What about your mother?"

"My mom will be too busy with all the last-minute wedding things. Any spare moment will be focused on Steph. Or should I say, Bridezilla."

I'm not convinced, but Adam knows the involved parties. He has far more on the line than I do. If he thinks we can pull it off, I'll trust him. Even if what I've heard about Adam's little sister borders on the scary.

"If you're going to depict our plan so critically, then at least include how you are essentially doing a good deed," Adam says, taking in the skeptical look on my face. "You met my mom."

"She was fun." And perhaps a bit of an alcoholic.

Adam's demeanor turns serious. "All kidding aside, I can't show my face there—actually Steph made it clear I shouldn't even come—without my fiancée. I don't have a lot of family. Evie, this would have turned into a messy situation. If not for you."

I hear the sadness in his voice. "Point taken. Maybe this is the time to start calling me Ronna."

Adam gives me a look then smiles, his handsome features lightening up. I feel warmth course through me. Outside, the mountains are changing, like someone flicked a switch that gradually sheds rays higher up the craggy rockface.

"Are you going to tell me the lost tooth story?" I ask.

Adam chuckles. "Sure. It all started when I was helping my mom bake my sister's birthday cake…"

Adam goes on to tell the tale of a crying five-year-old Stephanie, biting into her birthday cake and chewing on her brother's tooth. His voice is melodic and filled with nostalgia.

I think of my little boys, sleeping soundly on the sofa, cartoons flickering silently on the television screen. I feel their sweet breath on my neck as I carry them to bed. They smell of baby shampoo and freshly laundered pajamas.

As the car rocks gently, my eyes begin to close.