Pretenders (Firsts and Forever 3)

“You know, we can still leave,” I told him. “All we have to do is slip out the front door and get back on the boat.”

“It’s tempting, believe me. But they’re my family.”

“That doesn’t give them the right to treat you like crap, Wes. It really doesn’t. You’ve been tense and unhappy since the moment we arrived, but you don’t have to stay here and prolong your misery.”

“I’d never hear the end of it if I left before tonight’s anniversary party. Plus, I haven’t seen my family in a year, so I do need to spend some time with them. But we really don’t have to stay here at the house all week. On Tuesday or Wednesday, let’s go find a hotel and relax. We’ll show up for the wedding on Saturday, but there’s no reason to sit here for days on end, getting picked at by my mother while watching my ex and my brother fawn over each other.” He thought about it and asked, “Did that last part sound bitter?”

“No, and I love the idea of going off by ourselves for a few days. Blame it on me if it’ll make things easier for you with your family. Just say I begged you for some alone time or something. I really don’t care if they hate me.”

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” he said. “This would be exponentially worse if I was on my own.”

I stood up and swept a lock of hair off his forehead. “I’m glad I could help. Now, are you ready to introduce me to your favorite family member?”

He got up too and smiled at me. “How did you know she’s my favorite?”

“It’s totally obvious.”

One of his aunts, an older lady with a sour expression, was walking by when we stepped out of the bathroom. She shot us a look that was steeped in disapproval, and it was all I could do not to snap at her to mind her business.

Instead, I went with making her super uncomfortable. “It’s okay, he’s a doctor,” I said. “I had something big and swollen that needed attention, so he offered to examine it for me. Are you a doctor, too? We could use a second opinion.” I started to hoist up my shirttail, and Auntie Sourpuss gasped and bustled away from us as fast as she could.

Wes covered his laugh with a fake cough, then linked an arm with mine and quickly ushered me in the opposite direction. Once she was out of earshot, he whispered, “I can’t believe you said that.”

“None of it was inappropriate. I could have been talking about a bug bite. If she interprets it any other way, that’s on her.” Wes chuckled, and after a moment I asked him, “How do you know we’re headed in the right direction to find your niece?” The house was composed of a large central living and dining area flanked by two symmetrical wings. We’d chosen to head to the right.

“I studied the layout of this place on the rental website ahead of time, and I’ll bet Millie did, too. She and I both understand the importance of having an escape route from our family.”

Our first stop was a den lined with bookshelves. He stuck his head in and whistled two notes, then waited to see if she’d appear. I grinned and said, “It’s so cute that you two have a secret code.”

When she didn’t appear, we continued down the long hallway, and he whistled again. “I don’t actually know which one is her room, but that’d be the first place her parents would look so I doubt she’s there. That just leaves one more possibility in this wing. If it doesn’t pan out, we’ll check the other.”

His next guess was an enclosed courtyard off the side of the house. It was surrounded by a tall, thick hedge and contained a hammock and a seating area, tucked back among the trees and shrubs. Wes tried whistling again, and this time it was immediately followed by a matching whistle.

Then an adorable little girl with pigtails and glasses poked her head up over the back of one of the chairs, flashed us a huge smile, and yelled, “Uncle Wesley!”

They ran to meet each other in the center of the courtyard, and Wes swept her off her feet and swung her around, which made the child squeal delightedly. She threw her arms around his neck and exclaimed, “I’m so happy to see you!”

“Me too, Sprout.” He gave her a big squeeze before returning her to her feet.

Millie flashed me a shy smile and said, “I like your hair.”

“Thank you,” I said, as I joined them and knelt down so I was her height. “I like yours, too.”

She scrunched up her nose and said, “Mine’s just brown.”

“Brown is awesome. It’s the color of the best thing ever. Chocolate!”