One Day Fiance

He parks, and I see the first clear vulnerability in Connor’s armor as he squeezes the steering wheel and lets out a rough sigh. “You okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” he says, but he doesn’t. Instead, he gets out and comes around to my side, opening my door this time. I offer a smile of thanks, but he only mutters under his breath, “Let’s get this over with.”

We’re greeted at the door by Connor’s mom, a tall, beautiful woman who carries herself with grace. “Why, hello . . . it’s so nice to meet you, Scarlett!” she greets me, air kissing both of my cheeks. “I’m Debra, but please call me Mom. Where has he been keeping you?”

“Oh, he keeps me tied up in the basement,” I tease. Connor stiffens at my side, but Debra laughs, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “But seriously, it’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re so lucky to have you here,” Debra says. “I promise we’re not nearly as bad as he says we are.”

She glances at Connor with a smile, and I’m sure she means it to be a joke, but it comes off a bit too truthful. To ease the tension, considering Connor hasn’t said much, I tell her, “He hasn’t said much. Guess he’s the strong, silent type.”

To seal the comment, I snuggle into Connor’s side, doing my best to sell our ‘fiancé’ situation. Unfortunately, Connor’s stiff and straight, like he’s got a corn cob stuck up his ass. I’m about to elbow him when Debra laughs lightly, though it’s one of those polite, that wasn’t funny, fake ones. “Okay then. Let me get Dad and Caylee. They’re in the office.”

Once she’s gone, I push away from him with a glare. “Hey, buddy, I can’t do this alone. You have to play along if you want to keep up this charade.” I point from him to me. “Buy in a little.”

Connor sags slightly, looking like even that small interaction nearly exhausted him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Not enough,” I warn. “Keep this up, and they sure as fuck will know I’m not Scarlett.”

He shrugs, and I think he might be on the verge of saying fuck it to the whole fake fiancée thing minutes after walking in the door. I definitely didn’t consider that as a potential play-out of tonight’s act.

Before Connor can reply, Debra comes back with an older version of Connor trailing her. Next to him is a young woman who definitely takes after her mother in the tall, elegant, and pretty departments. I swear, did these people hit Copy+Paste and create their kids, one in each of their image?

“Okay,” Debra says when Connor doesn’t say anything, “so this is my husband, Robert, and our daughter, Caylee. Everyone, this is Scar—”

“Poppy,” I interrupt, smiling sweetly. “Sorry for the confusion.”

“I thought your name was Scarlett?” Caylee asks curiously. She seems to have her brother’s number more so than his parents and is looking at me carefully.

I run with it, giving a pretty good, embarrassed grin as I lean back into Connor’s side and gaze up at him bashfully. “Well,” I drawl out, “it’s sort of a thing that only King Con calls me. You know, because of the . . .” I gesture to my red hair, making the nickname connection obvious and also making it seem more like a bedroom name than a pet name in the hopes that they’ll leave it. I mean, who wants to hear their son called King Con around the dinner table when it instantly brings up thoughts of dick size and wild monkey sex?

“Oh,” Caylee says, easily satisfied and backing away from that verbal bear trap.

“Where’s the groom?” Connor interrupts, trying to move things along and check the boxes he’s got in his head for this visit. “I thought I was going to meet him.”

It’s the right move, redirecting the conversation to a topic he knows his sister will want to talk about so that she doesn’t focus on us. Or the pretend us, at least.

“Evan will be here any minute. I came out early to talk to Mom about last-minute wedding details, and well” —she smiles generously— “he’s pretty much done with all the wedding talk. I might be a little obsessed.” She holds her finger and thumb up an inch apart, grinning at me. “I’m sure you know how it is.”

Actually, I don’t. I’m seriously the sort of woman who’ll have my wedding on a last-minute whim if and when it’s my time, but I’ve got a role to play. “Of course. We’re taking things one day at a time, though, not on the edge of The Day like you are.” I take a cue from Connor, keeping the focus on Caylee. “You must be so excited.”

Caylee squeals happily, her feet doing a tappity-tap dance on the wood floor as she finds a new ear to bend. “I can’t wait. You have to come. You’ll get him to come, won’t you?”