Fake Boyfriend - Miley Maine Page 0,42

to be there to support them. Most weddings had aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters who’d traveled to be there, and who were eager to share in the couples’ big day. The wedding also served as a family reunion of sorts, giving even the most reluctant guest a chance to catch up with each other.

My family was so busy that I hadn’t seen all of them in one place in almost two years. They were a lot of fun to be around. The only really intolerable guest was my aunt. And maybe the bride. Just a little.

I got my camera focused and started snapping photos. I took candid shots, one of my cousin, pulling out a chair for our grandmother. I took one of my mother, nudging my father to put his napkin in his lap, although he’d attended just as many formal dinners as she had. I snapped a photo or two of every guest, laughing, talking, or reading for the mason jars filled with sparkling water.

Now it was time for the bride and groom, who were seated together at a round table set up for just the two of them, right next to the main tables.

My cousin was radiant in her pastel pink party dress, and her fiance was smiling at her. I got about ten shots of them before she waved me over. “Loren! Go sit down. And get your hot boyfriend. He’s over there in the corner glaring at everyone.”

Sure enough, Jackson was standing with his shoulders back, and his hands clasped in front of him. He might as well have been holding a neon light that said, ‘I’ll kick your ass.’ And Marie was right about one thing. He was hot. I couldn’t wait to rip that suit off of his body and finish what I’d started earlier in our hotel room.

“You sure you don’t want me taking more photos?” I asked.

“We’re sure,” Douglas said, but his tone was a little harsher than I’d have expected from him.

Snapping the cap back on my lens, I shrugged. “Fine with me. I’m ready to eat some of this delicious food.”

I marched straight over to Jackson. “Come on, my sexy pretend boyfriend. You could start a forest fire with that glare.”

“I’d feel better if you let me stand here and watch what’s going on,” he said.

I bumped him with my hip. “Sorry, but you agreed to be my boyfriend for this trip. That means sitting at the table, not standing over here like a statute while wishing for several big guns to brandish at the guests.”

“I prefer it over here,” he said.

“That’s obvious.” I looked up at him and licked my lips. “Please? I’ll make it up to you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m coming. You don’t have to make me any promises.”

I hooked my arm through his. “Well, I can promise that this food is going to be amazing. Come on.”

At the table, Jackson and I were seated by my grandmother and grandfather.

As soon as my butt hit the chair, my grandmother zeroed in on Jackson. She didn’t wait for an introduction. “So Jackson. You’re the first boy our Loren has ever brought home.”

I wouldn’t exactly call Jackson a boy, even if I were eighty years old like my grandmother.

Jackson seemed to be struggling not to laugh. But I knew him well enough by now that I was certain he wouldn’t do anything that would be disrespectful to my grandmother. “That’s what I’ve been told.”

“All these years we’ve been waiting, and she’s refused to even talk about a boy. Now, she brings home an Army Ranger. I have to say we’re all a little giddy. We thought she’d be single forever.”

And what would be wrong with that? Not a damn thing. But I’d made my case to them plenty of times. For now, I was going to revel in watching Jackson’s uncomfortable squirm while he tried to placate my grandmother.

“Yes, ma’am,” was all Jackson said, which seemed to satisfy my grandmother, who was far from done with this line of questioning.

“So tell us. How did she manage to snag you? You weren’t on one of those dating applications were you?” my grandmother asked.

Jackson wiped his mouth with the cream-colored napkin. I could tell he was stalling.

I tried to take over and put him out of his misery, but my grandfather shushed me. “We want to hear from your young man,” he said.

Oh Lord. Jackson was never going to forgive me for this dinner. And I didn’t blame him.