Best Fake Fiance (Loveless Brothers 2)

The dog licks her hand, and I can pretty much see June melt.

“Fine,” she says, offering ear scratches. “Fine, you can stay.”

The door opens, and Levi comes back out, first aid kit in hand, then stops. He slides the door shut behind himself, surveying the scene in front of him.

“She missed you,” June explains, now giving full two-handed dog scritches. “Do you need any help bandaging her up?”An arm slides around my waist, and without looking, I drape mine around Charlie’s shoulder.

“She’s wearing a life vest, there’s an extra in the boat, she knows how to swim, and Caleb’s with her,” she says. “Rusty’s fine.”

I watch my daughter’s small form grow smaller as Caleb rows them further out onto the lake. He sees me watching and waves. Rusty waves, too, then puts her binoculars back to her face, methodically surveying the surface of the water.

The sun has already sunk behind the trees, casting the lake in shadow. Dave is crepuscular, after all.

“Does she think Dave is real?” I ask Charlie.

“I’m not sure,” Charlie says. “I think she wants Dave to be real, since it would be cool to see a lake monster.”

“They took flashlights, right?” I ask.

“I think so,” Charlie says. “Also, I’m pretty sure that Caleb could make a lantern out of an oar and a cellphone if he needed to.”

“An oar and a cellphone?”

“Shh, don’t question it,” she says, leaning into me.

I kiss the top of her head. We’re standing on the shore of the lake, below Eli and Violet’s house, on a narrow strip of mud that’s not really a boat launch, but that sometimes functions as such regardless.

“You know you’re doing a good job, right?” she says.

“Because she knows the word crepuscular?”

“I’m serious,” Charlie says, poking me in the side. “Rusty’s a great kid. She’s gonna kick a lot of ass.”

“She already is,” I say. “Specifically, mine. You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Bring it on,” she says. “I’m looking forward to officially being her stepmom.”

“Me too,” I say.

We still haven’t really started wedding planning, but last weekend we went on a grand tour of open houses in the Sprucevale area. We discussed master bedrooms, bathtubs, whether we want an open-plan kitchen. We debated carpet versus hardwood flooring. We argued over whether garages are extra space for hobbies and projects (Charlie) or a place to put cars (me).

It’s all going to be a lot: buying a house, moving in together, her suddenly becoming a parent to a seven-year-old instead of just a cool aunt.

But it’s going to be good, because Charlie’s going to be there.

“Should we go back up?” she asks, still leaning against me. “They’re probably looking for us.”

“Let them look,” I say. “I like being alone with you.”

Charlie tilts her face up, so I lean down and kiss her. We move so she’s facing me, in my arms, and we kiss again, her arms around my neck, my hands on her back, and it’s good.

It’s better than good, these quiet moments where nothing matters but her and me. It’s nearly perfect.

We separate. I kiss her forehead, and she leans into my chest, face toward the lake. I know that soon, Caleb and Rusty will row back, that they’re going to light the candles on Seth’s birthday cake, that all the people gathered up above will sing to him in the warm Virginia night.

But that’s not now. Now is Charlie and me, standing here, getting our moments where we can steal them.

There will be more moments like this. There will be a house that’s half hers and half mine, where I rearrange the spices and she finds her phone in the cabinet with the mugs sometimes. There will be Rusty, growing up and getting older and someday leaving us. There might be more kids, a dog, some cats, maybe an iguana.

But always, there will be this, the two of us together, souls intertwined. An entanglement so deep it could never be undone.

“I think they’re heading back,” I say. We still haven’t moved. “Think she found Dave?”

“Probably not,” says Charlie. “I think she’d be more excited.”

She’s right. They didn’t. Caleb drags the boat onto the shore.

Rusty comes up to us, still embracing, and wraps her arms around our legs. I rub her back, lightly, and think: family is something you make out of love.

“I didn’t find Dave this time,” Rusty says, breaking the silence. “It’s okay. Let’s go get cake.”

Just like that she’s off, running back to the house. Charlie and I both laugh.

Then I take her hand, and we follow our daughter.

The End