He’s mentioned Paul before, and I know they get along. Liam’s never said a bad word about him, but he doesn’t get brought up a lot either.
He nods and leans his arm on the door. “We are now. It took us a while to adjust when he started dating my mom. Even when I was young, he did a good job of never making me feel othered. He’s never pushed the parent dynamic.”
“So,” I say slowly, “he’s not going to judge me in the way a parent would?”
He rolls his eyes and cups my cheek. “No, honey. He’s not going to do that. And Willa’s already sung your praises to the moon, so it would be pretty hard to disappoint them now.”
I grimace, about to tell him that only makes iteasierwhen Asher leans across Jo and taps on the backseat window and points at his watch-less wrist.
The car is on, so they’re fine. We only have an hour and a half until departure though, and the marina is near Sunset Cliffs.
With a cheeky grin, he kisses me softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
His words settle over me like a warm blanket.
What Liam doesn’t know is that I haven’t met anyone’s parents since I started dating Stefan over a decade ago.
Mia waits at the bottom of the ramp with me while our luggage is taken aboard. Despite living near the ocean most of my life, I’ve never been on a ship. I hope I’m not prone to seasickness, especially when my stomach is already in knots at the thought of having to meet Paul.
Devin Prescott was a man of no words, unless he’s in a business meeting. I can count on one hand the amount of times we held a conversation during my marriage to his son. He lets Martha write, direct, and star in the show of their lives. However, the man said more than enough with his eyes; the same pair that always swayed between repulsive desire and visceral disappointment.
Side-eyeing me, Mia starts digging in her bag and asks, “Are you okay? I have Dramamine if you need it.”
I grab her arm, stopping her movements. “No, that’s okay. Do you know who is captaining the ship?”
Showing my insecurities to Mia feels easier than it would be with anyone else on the yacht.
Maybe it’s because she’s older than me, or because she’s seen me at my lowest. She is also the only person here who knows Liam and I aren’t really together. Orweren’treally together. Whatever.
“Uncle Paul,” she says, fitting the random items back into her bag. When she looks up at me, her mouth drops. “Didyouknow that?”
I nod. “I found out about forty-five minutes ago.”
“That little shit,” she mutters. “Paul called Jo at six this morning.”
My mouth pops open and I turn toward her. It’s just after three p.m. now.
“You’ve never bullshitted me, Mia,” I say seriously. “Don’t start now. What should I expect?”
She thinks it over but her relaxed features stay the same. “Paul’s sweet and funny. You’d have more to worry about if you were dating his baby Jo than Liam. But he’s always been able to sniff out bullshit.”
“Liam failed to mention that,” I murmur, annoyed.
She laughs. “Probably because Paul is always the one who caught him, since Aunt Michelle is so trusting.” Growing more serious, though the amusement continues to spark in her eyes, she asks, “But there’s not anything to sniff out, is there? I mean—” she huffs out a laugh, “—you and Liam are obviously together now.”
“I mean…” I shrug. “We agreed to fake date until December, so…”
She nods slowly, looking at me like I’m the one who hasn’t figured it out yet. “Right, just like he was only supposed to be living with you for three weeks.”
“We just got busy, haven’t talked about it.” I shrug and look at my red nails, pretending to be interested in the manicure I got for the trip. It’s only five days, but it’s not a common luxury with my job.
Her head falls back and she chuckles. “He’s in yourhouse, Calypso. If you didn’t want him there, you wouldmaketime for that. Are you going to be too busy to break up with him in two months?”
Twisting my lips to the side, I think it over and it’s not a half bad idea. If I don’t end things, Liam might just stick around, declaring himself as mine and never making me verbalize my own emotions.
That could work.
“Maybe,” I ruefully admit.
