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It makes me want to reach out and hug him. I rest my head on his shoulder instead.
His entire body rumbles with a chuckle. “Did that put your mind at ease?”
“Am I terrible if I admit that it did?” My voice lowers to a whisper. “I’m still nervous, but I really can’t wait to meet your mom.”
Hansley takes my hand and holds it in his lap.
We both nap on the plane as last night didn’t exactly lend itself to getting a proper amount of rest.
I wake to him gently shaking my shoulders and glance outside.
We’re at the airport.
“Ready for this?” Hansley helps me up.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
In one hour, our month of fake marriage begins.
Our first test?
Convincing his parents we’re totally in love.
Hansley reaches over my head to get my carry-on and his biceps ripple in the light. All the women in the cabin swoon as he pulls my luggage down and smiles at me.
My heart jumps against my ribs, beating out of time.
Failing this test isn’t an option, but succeeding might be just as dangerous.
Eighteen
Hansley
The ranch where my parents moved after retirement sits on a vast acreage. Tall oak trees wave their leaves as we leave the spiral gate behind and drive toward the massive cabin-style house at the end of the road.
Asia has the window drawn all the way down. Her eyes take in everything in an almost, child-like awe.
Her lips are relaxed.
Almost curving up into a smile.
I smile in response.
Telling her about my adoption was an impulsive decision, but I’m glad I made it. She’s completely at ease now and it shows.
Why did you tell her in the first place?
That’s a worry for another day. Right now, I’m hoping we can get through to my parents, calm all their doubts and get on the first plane back to the city. The sooner we’re back on our turf, the better I’ll feel.
The front door bangs open the moment I cut the engine. My mother bounces out of the house, her long, black hair streaming behind her. She’s dressed in a loose khaki skirt and a red blouse. Her white smile beams my way, rivaling the sun.
I climb out of the car and catch her soundly when she flings herself at me. Her sweet, vanilla scent wafts over my shoulders, dragging memories of bedtime stories, goodnight kisses, and an idyllic childhood to mind.
Dad moves calmly down the steps, slow and steady. I wince when I note how carefully he’s moving. His arthritis must be kicking in again.
Mom steps back and joins dad’s side as I open the car door for Asia. “Mom and dad, I’d like you to meet my wife.”
“Hello.” Asia flutters her fingers. “It’s nice to meet you.”
