Shepherd couldn’t drive to his restaurant, as Perfection Avenue was pedestrian and pedicab only. But Ginny was waiting for him at the end of the road wearing a sky-blue sundress and a smile on her face.
His stomach squeezed a bit at the sight, the way it alwaysdid when she smiled at him like that. She didn’t smile like that at the customers, or Noah, or even Max and Chris. The smile that wrinkled her eyes was only ever directed at Shepherd, or sometimes Lex. Not that he was paying attention to her smiles, at him or otherwise. That would be weird. And Shepherd? Shepherd wascool.
She opened the door, and her smile immediately fell. “Oh, dear Lord, you were not kidding about your car. It’s gross, Shepherd!”
He shifted in his seat, the backs of his sweaty knees sticking to the old leather upholstery. “Told you so. I’m an expensive date, Ginny. What can I say?”
She buckled up with a grimace. “Mom isn’t answering, so I hope we’re not about to walk in on something unsightly.”
“I’m sure they’re just getting ready.” Shepherd pulled out into traffic. “I mean, Mr. Martin is old. Right? Like. How many rounds can we realistically be talking about?”
“No! Shepherd!” She clapped her hands over her ears. “Shut up! Shut up!”
He belly-laughed and turned into Mr. Martin’s neighborhood, the very swanky part of Laguna Key that was its own island, connected to the rest of it by private bridge. “Your mom’s been married a lot, Ginny. You can’t be surprised that she gets around.”
“Will you please stop slut-shaming my mother?”
“I’m not slut-shaming anyone! Good for her. You know? I’m just saying. You should be used to it by now.”
She sighed dramatically, the back of her hand on her forehead and everything. “My mother is a lot of things, Preston Shepherd. Something you get used to is not one of them.”
He parked his car behind Mr. Martin’s BMW and studied her profile in the light of the mid-morning sun that streamed in through the window, setting her red hair on fire. Damn, she was pretty. She blinked her long, pale lashes at him, and Shepherd cleared his throat.
“Well. Let’s go knock and see what happens. Can’t be too bad, whatever it is.”
Shepherd stepped out of the car and into the heat, the sun trying to boil him alive, and it would have succeeded if it wasn’t for the gentle breeze swaying in the palms and wafting the scent of nearby seaweed against his nose in a rotten-egg caress. He opened the door for her, because if he was going to pretend to be her boyfriend, he might as well be the type of boyfriend who opened car doors.
Ginny climbed out with a smile and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
Shepherd slammed the door behind her. His eyes were bulging, he knew it—he could almost feel the hearts flying out, but he was incapable of stopping them. Incapable of even blinking. Her face was so close to his that he could feel her breath on his neck, her vanilla perfume drowning out the seaweed. Goosebumps prickled over his skin.
“We haven’t even started yet.”
Ginny’s white teeth bit her plump bottom lip, pink and shining with gloss. “You sure about that?”
His heart was racing so fast it was almost like that time he went to the ER thinking he was dying, and it turned out it was just a panic attack. Hayley made fun of him for weeks.
Ginny leaned, somehow, even closer. His eyes crossed trying to stay focused on her. “They could be watching from the window. We’ve got to make it believable.”
He exhaled. He had a plan for this. What to Do When We Have to Kiss Again, to Keep Yourself from Looking Like an Even Bigger Idiot. He’d thought of it last night after texting Ginny.
Shepherd could do anything he set his mind to, as long as he had set his mind to it far in advance, and came up with a step-by-step list of how to handle said thing.
“Of course,” he whispered. She was so close to him he had no choice but to whisper. “Knowing your mother, she’s probably watching right now.” He took her chin between two of his fingers. “Better make it look good for her, huh?”
By holding her face, he was In Charge. He pressed his lips to hers, this time remembering to Close His Eyes, and with Firm Pressure kept her tongue in her mouth where it belonged.
Ginny’s lips were decidedly less glossy and pink when they parted. One swipe of his mouth with his tongue solved that mystery. He cleared his throat and wiped off the evidence with the back of his hand.
She smiled at him, a blush on her cheeks, and laced her fingers through his. “Thank you, again. Now let’s go take these geezers to brunch.”
“Wait.” Shepherd was pulled behind her. “We’retakingthem? Are you serious? The rich old people can’t even pay for the brunch they’re forcing us to?”
“I’ll cover it, you big baby,” Ginny said.
“Oh, and make me look like a cheapskate in front of my fake girlfriend’s mother? No, thank you. I’ll cover it. But I’m gonna act high and mighty about it and really rub it in Mr. Martin’s face.”
Every house on this street was elevated above sea level, not by stilts like most of the newer homes on the island, but by a mound of earth piled high and covered in grass that could never grow lush in this climate. The roofs were metal, the walls were concrete, and the sunflowers in the windowsills were aggressively cheerful.
