Page 121 of Peaks and Promises

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it all that much. I don’t think I’ll ever get married, so why worry about a wedding I’ll never have?”

“I don’t know.” Melanie glanced down at her nails, like she was searching for imperfections in her polish. “You might need to make that fake marriage of yours a real one.”

“If you did, you could say it’s a formality so family can attend,” Penelope said. “But it’s actually the real wedding.”

“Except, I’m not marrying Reese.”

“Not yet.” Melanie’s tone was suggestive.

“Not ever,” I said. “We’re not a couple now. What makes you think that’s going to change?”

“I mean, I know you claim you’re not a couple,” Melanie said. “But have you noticed the way that man looks at you?”

“He’s just doing that in public so people won’t suspect it’s fake.”

Shaking her head, Melanie clicked her tongue. “Oh, Summer. Sweet, sweet Summer. There was nothing fake about the way he had his arm around you last night.”

“Or the way he kept glaring at those guys at the other table,” Penelope said.

“That’s just because one of them offered to buy me a drink before you got there,” I said. “He was sitting at our table when Reese showed up.”

“I can’t believe I missed that,” Melanie said with a pout. “What did he do? He stared the guy down until he peed his pants, didn’t he?”

I laughed. “Pretty much, actually.”

“I always thought Josiah was the scary one, but Reese takes the cake,” Melanie said. “He’s terrifying.”

“He does look intimidating,” Penelope added.

She wasn’t wrong. “I used to call him the scary tattooed guy before I knew his name.”

“How did you meet him?” Melanie asked.

“He was a regular at the diner where I worked.”

“That’s cute,” Penelope said.

Melanie leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. “So were you guys, you know, before the whole fake marriage thing?”

“Were we what? Dating? No.”

“So you weren’t even like…” Melanie made a circle with her thumb and forefinger and moved her other forefinger in and out. “On the side or something?”

Laughing, Penelope smacked her hands. “What are you? A twelve-year-old boy? I mean, Theo does that, but…”

“No,” I said vehemently. “We were not.”

“But you are now, obviously,” Melanie said.

My eyes widened. “What makes you think that?”

“Wait, you’re not?” Melanie sounded shocked. “How?”

“How are we not…?”

Melanie gestured with her fingers again, and Penelope shook her head.

“We’re… I… It’s not… We’re just…” I couldn’t seem to decide what to say. “Okay, fine. We are. He was sleeping on the couch, and I invited him into the bedroom with me. You know, to be more comfortable. But he’s so big and we barely fit on the bed together. It just happened. And…keeps happening.”