“Hey, I hope it’s okay that I dropped by without calling first.” She stepped through the door, her hands knotted in front of her.

“Of course.”

“So we had the kitchen tea today,” she said, walking through to the living room and dropping down onto the couch. She slipped her feet out of her heels and rubbed at a mark on her ankle where the strap had bitten into her skin.

“What’s the point of that again?” Paul took the seat across from her.

“It’s like a wedding shower. Traditionally people buy gifts for the kitchen, but these days it’s just all the women getting together to chat about the wedding and play games.” She tapped her fingertip to her chin. “Think of it as a super tame version of a hen’s party.”

“No male strippers then?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No strippers, no penis-shaped straws or lollipops.”

He stared at her. “Girls really have that?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve even seen cupcakes decorated with them at one hen’s party.”

“I feel cheated.”

“I don’t prefer the cupcake if that’s what you’re worried about.” A cheeky smile pulled up on her lips.

“Damn straight.”

Silence settled over them and again Libby knotted her hands. Underneath the jokes and her beautiful smile he sensed a wariness in her.

“I met some interesting people at the kitchen tea.” She sucked on her lower lip, her eyes avoiding his.

Paul’s stomach dropped. It would be just his luck if she met Sadie today after he’d come close to calling her and fessing up.

“Anyone in particular?”

“I met your ex, Paul.” She looked up and nodded slowly. “I was chatting with her, but I had no idea who she was. Then Gracie introduced me as your girlfriend and she filled me in afterward. I never realized the guy she cheated with was your cousin.”

He watched her face, waiting for the pity. Waiting for any sign that she thought him pathetic for being duped by Sadie and his cousin.

“You can understand why I wasn’t keen to share those details,” he said drily, interlacing his fingers behind his head.

She nodded. “I do understand but…”

“But?” he asked, his defenses rising like great shadows around him.

He fought the urge to push up from his chair and stalk out of the house. Storming off was his usual way of dealing with problems. Lord knew how many times he’d walked away from his brother or his parents in such a manner. If he was being honest with himself, he’d done it a number of times to Sadie as well.

Libby deserved more than that. He’d dragged her into his problems by keeping information from her. She shouldn’t have to deal with his temper as well.

“It would have been better if I’d known. I was taken by surprise.” She was working up to something—her leg bounced and she fiddled with the hem of her dress, picking at some invisible flaw.

He nodded, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t want to put you in that position.”

“I know.” She sucked in a breath, her chest rising and falling. She continued to pick at her dress.

“What’s wrong, Libby? Did she say something to you?”

“It wasn’t what she said.” Libby looked up, her brows creased as she chewed on her lip.

“I don’t understand.”

“I said something, Paul. Something bad.” The anguish on her face was killing him.

“Spit it out. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” The hypocrisy of his statement wasn’t lost on him, but right now all he wanted was to wipe the tension from her face.

“I overheard Sadie talking with someone, I didn’t catch her name. Some things were said, things that weren’t true and I just…reacted.”

The muscles in his neck bunched, his hands curled into fists. He knew exactly who Libby was talking about—Miss Goody-Two-Shoes Gina who always looked down her nose at him. She and Sadie stuck to each other like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Gina thought her brother was God’s gift and that no one else in the family deserved what he did.

They took, took, took without regard to anyone else.

“What did they say?” He ground the question out through clenched teeth.

“It doesn’t matter…all you need to know is that I wanted to stick up for you.”

“What did they say?” Humiliation coursed through him, curling in his gut like a poisonous snake.

Libby ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t want to repeat it.”

He sat still as a statue, shutting down his emotions. Packing them all into a tight ball and pushing them deep down as he’d done day after day since Sadie left. He knew eventually the pain would stop, but every so often something happened to split him apart, and it would all come tumbling out if he wasn’t careful.

He looked at the scar on his right hand, the one he’d gotten when he put his fist through a wall after bumping into Sadie and his cousin right before they got married.

“Tell me, Libby.” He drew a slow breath. “I need to know.”

“You’re just going to torture yourself with it.” She shook her head. “I told them that you’re perfect just the way you are. That we’re happy together and I don’t want to change a single thing about you.”

He felt a “but” coming on.

“But,” she said, steadying her breathing. “Something else kind of slipped out.”

“What?”

“I told them…” She grimaced.

“God, Libby, you’re killing me. Spit it out.”

“I told them we were thinking about getting married.”

The words seemed to suck the life out of the room, turning it into a vacuum. His head pounded, the ramifications of her words flying at him thick and fast like a swarm of wasps.

He shook his head. “Say that again?”

Her face begged him not to make her repeat the admission, but he held his tongue until she sighed, defeated. “I told them we were thinking about getting married.”

He gaped at her. “What on earth possessed you to do that?”

“I couldn’t listen to them say these things that were untrue and…” She swallowed. “Unkind. You deserve better than that, and I got so angry that I confronted them. It slipped out.”

“How does the invention of a marriage proposal simply slip out?”

For someone who claimed to have no interest in long-term relationships it didn’t exactly seem like a go-to defensive move. Unless of course his wretched cousin and cheating ex were saying he wasn’t marriage material. It wasn’t exactly a stretch.

His hands curled around the arms of the sofa, fingertips rubbing against the beginnings of a split in the worn leather.

“I don’t know,” she said, her eyes wide and blank.

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. The old Paul would have suspected Libby of using this situation to manipulate an outcome, force him down a specific path. But he knew her. Really knew her.

She wasn’t that kind of girl, and she’d said she believed in him. Maybe she was just trying to protect him?

Libby hung her head. “I’m mortified.”

He wanted to say something to comfort her, assure her that it would be okay, but the combative emotions swirling within him prevented any words from coming out. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but the lie had posed a whole new set of complications. Especially if word got back to his parents that the dreaded M word had been uttered.

The clock on his wall ticked loudly, counting the stretch of silent shock.

Much to his confusion, he wasn’t totally repelled by the idea that people thought he and Libby would be married. Since she’d said those damning words he’d been waiting for the dread to come…but it hadn’t. Confusion, yes. Remorse for digging himself into a giant hole, probably. But dread? No.

Her fists clenched and unclenched in her lap. “I’m so sorry, Paul. I really don’t know what came over me.”

At this point he was more annoyed with his own lack of reaction than he was with her. This was exactly the kind of thing that should make him want to run for the hills but instead he sat there, wishing he could ease her pain. Feeling bad for her that she’d been put in a situation where she needed to use such a preposterous lie to defend him.