The Reunion (Fashionable Friends)
“I like your dad,” Muriel said finally. “I can’t remember seeing him much when we were kids, but he’s a real sweetie.”
“Yeah, he’s great. He used to work a couple jobs, so I didn’t see him much either. He’s like the opposite of my mom, isn’t he?”
Muriel chuckled and nodded her agreement. “They’re opposites, kind of like you and Cam, in a way.”
I knew she was joking, but it hit too close to home to be amusing for me.
“Do you think I’m cynical?” I asked, and Muriel gave me a wry side-eye look.
“Um, is that a serious question?”
I bristled slightly. “Of course it is. I want to know.”
“Hugh, darlin’, in first grade, you tried to convince the whole class to boycott the Tooth Fairy because you figured she was ripping us off.”
“Well, to be fair—”
“In second grade, you gave a speech at recess about how Santa is just a tool parents use to get kids to behave.”
“Was I wrong?”
“We were seven. And now you’re a grown man who chooses to stay in his small town to fight corruption rather than get a cushy big-city job that you deserve. You’re the most cynical person I’ve ever met, and it’s what makes you so amazing.”
I reached over and touched her thigh; she didn’t flinch this time. “Thank you.”
She sniffed dismissively. “No need to thank me for telling you the truth. Why do you ask, anyway?”
“I think I get my pessimism from my mother.”
“No shit. Did she tell you why she doesn’t like me, then?”
It was probably best not to tell her. Not least because the reason Mom’s words made me so mad was that I’d had the exact same suspicion before. How could one woman like Cameron and me the same amount when we were so different?
And who wouldn’t choose Cameron’s sunny nature over my surliness and weird obsession with local politics? Muriel had never given any indication she had a preference, but now that my mom had mentioned it, I couldn’t get it out of my mind.
“She’s fine, she just... she suspects we’re secretly dating.”
“Why would that make her mad, though? She was spitting feathers about me being in her house just now.”
“I—” My mind was blank; I couldn’t think of anything to say except the truth. “She thinks you’re using me to get close to Cameron.”
Muriel switched off the music. “Oh.”
We drove on in silence.
Chapter Ten
Muriel Tennyson
As we drove along the semi-flooded roads to my parents’ home, I silently cursed Poppy’s thoughtfulness and her ability to wrap men around her little finger. Why did she have to go and get us rescued? If she hadn’t made Cooper and Nolan prioritize me over other resort guests, I’d probably still be happily stuck in an isolated bungalow with my guys.
The three of us had such a great time in the bubble of our little prison, and ironically, I’d never felt so free.
Freedom meant not dealing with parents, jobs, and everything else. All I wanted to do was drag two men back into bed and let the real world drift away.
I’d always known Hugh’s mom didn’t like me, but I would never have guessed that she thought I was using her son.
My knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel, imagining the piece of my mind I’d give her if Hugh would only let me turn around. She thought she was tough, but she’d never seen a pissed Muriel Tennyson.
“So you don’t agree with her?” I asked uncertainly. I knew that Hugh was close to his mom, and he respected her opinion.
“Of course not!” he exclaimed, a little too brightly for my liking. “That’s why I wanted to get out of there. Anyway, if we did manage to make something work between the three of us, she’d soon realize she was wrong. She’s just protective, that’s all. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Did you tell her what’s really happening between us?”
“Nope.”
Even though I knew it was for the best, I couldn’t help but feel hurt. Why didn’t he want to shout about us from the rooftops? Did he have reservations about the three of us in a relationship?
He clearly sensed my tension, and he was smart enough to know the reason for it.
“Earlier, you told a total stranger we were complicated. You can’t expect me to tell my own mother what’s going on when I don’t even know what ‘complicated’ is supposed to mean.”
Damn him for always being right. We pulled up to my parents’ place, and I turned to him.
His face was tired but all the more handsome for it, all unshaven and disheveled in yesterday’s clothes. He looked like a true old-fashioned gumshoe.
I instinctively reached out and placed a light peck on his lips, and his soulful eyes gazed back at me in surprise.
“I said it was complicated because it is, but there has to be a way to make it work, doesn’t there?”