Page 50 of Fall Fake-Out

The chapel doors creak open at the back of the room. I don’t even have to look to know who it is. But I do look, even though we know curiosity killed the cat.

His gaze sweeps the room once before landing directly on me.

Then he grins and starts walking toward our pew.

Crap.

My mom notices too, because her body goes rigid beside me.

There are exactly two inches of available bench space left in our row.

Surely, Wade sees that.

Surely, he’ll sit with his own family.

Instead, Wade slides into the pew, climbing over Jaxon and Landrie like he owns the place. He wiggles his way into the spot next to me, thigh slamming against mine. Solid and entirely too much man for one tiny church pew.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he whispers like we’ve been married for twelve years.

I elbow him hard in the ribs.

Unfortunately, there’s nowhere for him to move away to.

Landrie suppresses a smile on his other side while my mom stares straight ahead at the pulpit like she’s praying for strength.

Every part of us is touching like our own romantic version of “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.”

I become painfully aware of stupid things. Like how warm he is. How clean he smells. How big his thigh muscles are. Then his arm slides behind me along the back of the pew because there genuinely isn’t enough room otherwise. Except, now his fingers trail over my shoulder, and instead of just leaving them there, lifeless, he brushes my hair back so it’s out of the way. For what purpose? I know not, just that I’m in a sleeveless dress, and there’s plenty of free skin for Wade’s fingers to draw continuous circles over my shoulder bone.

And it’s delightful.

His attention stays forward toward Pastor Bruce, but there’s a smugness to the corner of his mouth that tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.

The pew in front of us creaks.

The Ednas have fully turned around—not subtly either. Their entire bodies are twisted backward as they stare at Wade smashed beside me, hugging me close with his arm around my shoulder.

Wade notices. “Ah,” he murmurs in my ear, which is another sensory thing more intense than the shoulder thing. “In the front row, we have Edna G. and Edna B. craning for a better angle. Strong neck extension from both gossipers today. But who will come away with the better story to spread to the rest of the town?”

My lips twitch. “Stop.”

“Edna B. appears emotionally overwhelmed by the seating arrangement, while Edna G. appears to like the physical contact. And would you look at that? Edna whispers to neighboring audience members. Fantastic speed. Veteran form.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop smiling.

Across the aisle, Linda Tolman narrows her eyes at us over the rim of her reading glasses. Pam Vasser follows her gaze immediately.

“Ohhh,” Wade whispers, keeping up his sports announcer persona. “Linda Tolman is entering the gossip mill with a disapproving stare. It’s rated a solid 9.4.”

“You’re going to get us kicked out of church.”

“Pam Vasser…strong disapproval from her as well, but she’s forced to turn her attention back to her pastor husband, even if he’s boring and bland.”

A tiny laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

His eyes flick sideways immediately.

Victory flashes there, like making me laugh was the entire goal.