“Oh, fine, but I’m glad to finally be here. I don’t get to spend enough time with both of my girls under one roof anymore.” He kisses the top of my head before pulling away.
“Kamal, we need to meet with the wedding planner,” Mom says. “She has a few items to run by us.”
Dad huffs good-naturedly and tells Carter, “She means checks she needs me to write.”
Carter laughs. “I won’t keep you. It was nice to meet you both.”
“Likewise, Carter. We’ll all talk more at dinner, I’m sure.” Mom looks me over and frowns at the décolletage exposed by my V-neck sweater. “Try to dress appropriately, darling. It’s not at some wild dance club.”
Carter doesn’t bother disguising his snort of amusement, but I sigh. “Yes, Mother.” And we both watch them go before Carter turns to me and examines my jeans and sweater.
“Am I supposed to believe your mother thinks that sweater is scandalous?”
I shake my head. “Like I said, conservative.”
“Wow.” His gaze dips to the same V my mom disapproved of. “I hope you won’t be taking her fashion advice anytime soon.”
I open my mouth to respond but am cut off by a shrieked “Tea-Tea!” and I turn to see my sister rushing toward me, her arms wide.
I can’t help but smile when I see her. In my mind, Saanvi will always be the baby sister I got for Christmas. Many people told little-girl me that she wasn’t mine, but I didn’t believe them. When you ask Santa for a baby for Christmas and he delivers, she’s yours. So Saanvi was and always has been. Since I moved to Jackson Harbor, I haven’t gotten to visit her nearly as often as I’d like, but that hasn’t changed the surge of love that fills me every time I see her.
She wraps her arms around me, and I hug her right back. “You’re glowing,” she says as she pulls away. Her gaze shifts to Carter as she gives a coy smile. “I think I know why.”
I hate lying to her. My parents, I can deal. But Saanvi? Yeah, getting through this week is going to be hard. “This is Carter Jackson, my boyfriend.” The words are like glue on my tongue and don’t want to come off. But he takes my hand in his and gives me an extra squeeze of reassurance. I’m so epically grateful for his friendship. “Carter, this is my sister, Saanvi.”
Carter flashes her his charming, panty-melting smile—though, to be fair, I’m not sure he has another one. “It’s a pleasure to meet Teagan’s favorite sister.”
“I’m her only sister,” Saanvi says, smiling. “I’m glad to meet you too. I’ve heard so much about you—your whole family, actually.” Saanvi ignores his offered hand and pulls Carter into a hug. He rolls with it. The Jacksons are all comfortable with physical affection. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I adore Carter’s family so much. Right up there with everything about them. My sister squeezes his biceps as she pulls back. “Dang, I can see why Tea likes you! Well done, muscles.”
“Don’t you have your own man to grope somewhere around here?” I ask my sister.
“He’s upstairs getting us settled into our room.”
I arch a brow. “Your room? Mom’s letting you share a room with Liam before you say your vows?” I can’t imagine the parents I was raised by allowing their daughter to share a room with her husband before the wedding.
“I insisted,” she says with a shrug. She lowers her voice. “I’ve discovered that if I play the but it’s my wedding card, Mom will bend to almost anything I ask.”
Carter shifts to stand behind me. It’s not a struggle to act normal when he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my back to his front. In fact, the struggle is in reminding myself that this is all pretend. This is going to be our “normal” this weekend, and I need to remind myself that it doesn’t mean anything. Even if it feels . . . easy.
A moment later, I catch sight of Rich out of the corner of my eye and understand what Carter’s doing. Rich is in the common living area off the foyer talking to my uncle, but I can feel his attention on me. On us. I lean into Carter’s touch. His heat. Damn, he smells good.
“Saanvi?” A tall brunette in a pencil skirt appears from the hall, hands folded as she walks over to us. “The chef wants to run a couple of ideas by you for breakfast. Would you follow me?”
“Valarie, this is my big sister. Teagan, this is Valarie, my wedding planner,” my sister says. She whispers, “Val is the best money Mom ever spent. She’s a genius.”
Val gives me a broad smile and nods. “I’ve heard so much about you, Teagan.”