But Libby is lying to so many more people. It’s just hitting me as I face them.
Charlie switches the little girls to one arm—yes, he’s a hugeman and he’s holding them both under one arm so he can reach toward me with his other. (Again, to be fair, these little girls are tiny, like their older sister.)
“Hey, Jordan. Good to meet you,” he says with a wide grin. Libby has told me that he’s perpetually cheerful, always taking everything in stride.
“Good to meet you,” I say, giving his hand a firm shake. We’re about the same height and build, one of us a former pro football linebacker, the other a former pro hockey defenseman. Both of us playing on defense for our teams gives me a feeling of camaraderie with him, even if we played different sports.
He readjusts his girls in his arms after he pulls away and turns so that I see Janelle standing behind the couch, watching me, with two more kids at her side, little boys. She moves around the couch, the boys in her wake.
She wraps me up in a hug when she reaches me, arms around my waist like Libby does because I’m so tall. She pulls back to look up at me, her expression cheerful like her husband’s. “Welcome to the family, Jordan.” She steps back.
Double oof.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice sounding strangled.
Cordie is still hanging onto Libby like a monkey, but Libby heads for the kitchen, and I follow.
Mr. Bennet shakes my hand, and Mrs. Bennet gives me a hug like Janelle’s. Both of them are more guarded than the Baldwins. Mrs. Bennet still smiles at me, but there’s something in her expression that makes me uneasy—like she can somehow tell that I’m not arealhusband.
She is a mom.
Mr. and Mrs. Bennet go back to the dinner preparations once we’ve greeted them, Mrs. Bennet directing Cordie and her seven-year-old brother Carter to start setting the table. Again, Libby makes a face at Cordie’s name.
“What’s up?” I lean over and whisper to her once Cordie has slipped from Libby’s arms to do as her grandma asked.
“Huh?” Libby looks up at me, confused.
“You do this—” I mimic Libby’s cringe. “—every time someone says Cordie’s name.”
Libby rolls her eyes. “I hate that nickname. You’d think after nine years I would’ve gotten used to it, but every time someone calls her that, it makes me think of a dog. A corgi, I guess.” She shrugs.
I chuckle. “Okay, now that’s all I’ll hear.”
“Sorry.” She bumps me playfully.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder and kiss her head, letting my lips linger at her hairline and closing my eyes. Pretending when we’re in front of people is so much easier than hiding how I’ve begun to feel from Libby. Her shoulders tighten when my lips graze her skin for a brief moment, but then she relaxes. Something heavy sits in my gut that it’s not as natural for her to act like this together. I keep my arm around her, but I straighten. How can I convince her family we’re crazy in love without making her uncomfortable? I don’t want her to have to deal with that, even if she’s the one who proposed this plan in the first place.
“Come on, let’s go help Cordelia and Carter with setting the table,” she says, sliding her hand into mine and leading me to the dining room.
Twenty minutes later, when we’re all sitting down to eat, the real grilling starts.
“So,” Mr. Bennet says, with a pleasant smile, “had to run off to get married so we couldn’t stop you?” He glances at Libby as he says it, but then his gaze rests on me. There’s definitely bite to these words despite his easy manner.
“Dad!” Libby cries.
“Libby’s almost thirty,” Janelle defends. “I think she’s old enough to decide if she wants to marry someone without our input.”
“I amnotalmost thirty.” Libby huffs. “I’m twenty-seven.”
Janelle laughs, but Mr. Bennet’s gaze stays firm on me. And the pleasant smile part of it is turning more forced by the second.
“I apologize, Mr. Bennet,” I say genuinely. I decide to dance along the truth of our decision to elope without telling her family anything. “We knew our families would be hurt by our choice to want to have the ceremony all to ourselves, so we thought it might be easier not to tell you at all until after. But it was impossible not to hurt everyone after we’d kept so much a secret for so long.” I give a rueful grimace, hoping he believes I’m genuinely sorry. We wanted to have our families there. We knew they’d want to be a part of it, but lying about our vows in front of them also felt wrong.
Mr. Bennet gives a slow nod, still studying me, and then relents with, “I guess that’s true.”
But when I glance at Mrs. Bennet, her eyes are narrowed at Libby, watching her closely.
“My mom has sworn to never forgive me for depriving her of coming to my wedding,” I jump in to say.
