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“Pretty much. So, I guess that means you’re acknowledging that you’re trapped inside aGroundhog Day-style fake relationship movie?”
Laughing, I moved over to a nearby bench and took a seat. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Doesn’t that get old?”
“What?”
She made her way over and sat next to me. “The fake relationship thing.”
“Oh. Well, no, because there are other little differences that make it interesting.”
What Ididn’tadd was that it didn’t matter if it got old, it was lucrative, and I had hundreds of thousands of dollars in medical debt on my shoulders. This light conversation was as addictive as drugs probably were, and I wasn’t about to cut myself off by discussing that.
“What kinds of things?”
“The different reasons they hire me.”
“Ah,” she drawled with a nod, “the secondary tropes.”
“The what?”
“There’re always secondary tropes. So like, when you did the fake relationship thing with Shelby, the secondary trope was that she was secretly in love with her best friend. It’s referred to as friends-to-lovers.”
Understanding, I nodded. “Got it. So yesterday, when the mother of the bride wanted to get back together with her ex-husband…?”
“Second chance,” she supplied.
“And the one in the evening, when the bride’s cousin was in love with the best man?”
She frowned. “I think I need more info. Who was the best man to her?”
Normally, I didn’t like talking about my clients and their motivations for hiring me, but this was too much fun. I didn’t have to give away too many details, but I couldn’t help but play along with her.
“I think they all grew up together.”
“Childhood best friends,” she said with a nod. “Were either of them parents?”
“He was.”
Lyndi let out a long sigh. “Ah, single dad, too. I love that one. There’s just something swoony about a single dad, doing his best for his kid while also following his heart. Gets me every time.”
I tried not to take offense that she loved aswoony single dadsince I wasn’t one. Then I bumped her shoulder with mine. “Crushing on your sister’s fiancé?”
A giggle escaped through her shocked expression, and she reached out and swatted my knee. The simple touch caused sparks to shoot up my thigh. “Um, ew, no. Zac is great, but he’snotmy type.”
“What is your type?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Besides single dads, of course.”
And besides guys who plan to stay in Bluffton for the rest of their lives.
She gave me a sidelong glance, but her lips curved up into a small smile. “Um, let’s see. I love it when a guy has major reasons why he can’t date the heroine, but they’re snowed in with each other in a cabin, so he can’t escape her. And then those major reasons becomeminorthe more they get to know each other.”
Confused, I angled my head. Was that a type? Or a book description?
“I also love a workaholic doctor falling for a free spirit. The way he fights his attraction because he has a duty to save lives and doesn’t have time for romance? Kills me.”
Again, what in the world made her think that answered my question?
“Oh,” she said, holding up a finger, “and even though enemies-to-lovers isn’t my favorite trope because sometimes it gets a little ridiculous, I love it when he can’t stand the heroine but then he’s forced to marry her. So it’s mostly the marriage of convenience thing, but the sparks are fun when you throw in the enemies part.”
