“We’re putting lies down on paper,” she continued. “And I know how you are about paper trails. If it’s written down, you want it to be accurate enough to stand up in court.”
He couldn’t help the grin that broke out on his face, feeling like he’d dodged a bullet.
“The application itself wouldn’t get us into trouble,” he told her. “Presenting an actual child under false pretenses, or taking part in daycare activities with other children under false pretenses, that could do it. But the information we put down here, on this initial application, isn’t about our imaginary Chrissy. It’s about us, and as far as it goes, it’s accurate. It says we run a food truck. We do. It gives the kitchen as a contact address, for the next month, it is. It doesn’t say you’re not a nurse, or I’m not a lawyer, it just doesn’t say we are. And, for now, this week, we’re a couple. We don’t put on here that we’re married. Your reference, your friend at the hospital, is legitimate, and my reference is, too.”
She nodded. “They might call your parents...”
He was ahead of her. “I called them myself and warned them that if they got any calls to please cooperate.”
“You told them about me?” Her question ended on a high note. As if she was shocked.
But glad?
“No. I just told them I was involved with helping out a family...”
She nodded. Disappointed? Relieved?
Did it matter?
“It just felt...like I was doing you a disservice, naming you as the father of my child.”
He grew hard again. He felt like a creep as he stayed close to the prep board.
“Your imaginary child,” he reminded them both. And then, for reasons completely unknown to him, said, “But being the father of your child would be an honor...”
What?
“For any man worth his salt,” he quickly added.
She studied him for a second while he held his breath and thought about checking himself in to some mental facility. Then she smiled. A perfectly normal Tabitha-and-Johnny-life-quest-partners smile.
“But we can look at all the options—including an honest conversation with Mallory.”
Her huge smile made him feel as if he’d survived a game of Russian roulette.
Chapter Five
Feeling closer to Johnny than she’d ever felt before, Tabitha stood outside the food truck, watching him lock it up for the night. His back was to her, so his shoulders were there for the staring, and stare she did. By what streak of luck he’d moved in next door to her, she didn’t know, but she’d never cease being grateful for his presence in her life.
She’d asked again about his plan to talk to Mallory. He’d suggested they discuss it over dinner. For the moment, her world felt right.
Not happy—not without Jackson—but...close.
Because Jackson wasn’t far away. But also because of Johnny.
“I thought maybe we could get some dinner at one of the restaurants on the beach,” he told her. “We can find someplace with a patio. It’s warm enough to eat outside.”
As usual with his suggestions, she was game. And wasn’t surprised when it took him less than twenty minutes to find the perfect spot not far from their hotel. He suggested they park at the hotel and walk to dinner, and that sounded great to her, too.
Still dressed in their jeans and Angel’s Food Bowl shirts, they fit right in with the casual crowd as they took their seats on a beach-level patio a short distance from the ocean.
Though the barbeque place drew mostly families, the patio seemed to attract couples. Leaning into each other. Holding hands. The two women on the left doing both as they lifted their wineglasses in a toast.
Maybe newly married?
Focusing her attention on the menu she’d pulled from between the cowboy-boot-shaped salt and pepper shakers, Tabitha tried not to think about how she and Johnny might appear to the other diners around them—if any of them even noticed.
Or to the waitress who stopped by for their drink orders and wasn’t the least bit flirtatious, in spite of how inarguably gorgeous Johnny was. As though she respected that he was Tabitha’s man.