Page 11 of Wild Lies

I walk to the door, the comfort of Kade’s presence wrapping around me with every step. It’s funny how I’ve known him for a couple of days, spent no more than several hours in his company, and yet he can calm me like I’ve known him my entire life. I should be cautious about the way he makes me feel, but the part of me that craves stability sinks into everything he’s offering.

Here goes nothing.

7

KADE

I can feel the tension rolling off Chloe as we walk down the makeshift aisle to our seats, her hand looped through my arm. In the buggy on the way down to the lake, Chloe explained that she’s not in the wedding party, despite this being her only sister’s wedding. I didn’t want to press her on the reason, but I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t curious as to why.

People mingle on the grass to the side of where the chairs have been set up for the ceremony. The wooden white foldable chairs that have pink bows attached to them face the lake and mountains that stretch out in the distance. An arch—where I assume the couple will say their vows—matches the style of the chairs, but instead of the pink bows, there are what look to be pink peonies twined around it.

This isn’t something we’d ever do at Wild Heartlands—affectionately called Heartlands for the backdrop of Montana you get from every vantage point—no matter how much Gracie keeps pushing for it. Each time she’s raised it, we’ve unanimously voted against the idea, and while I can appreciate the beauty of what they’ve done with the place, I much prefer the peace and quiet we get over at Heartlands.

We’re moving slowly through the crowd of people when Chloe’s grip tightens on my bicep. I look down at her as she shifts her body behind me. Confusion rushes through me, and I scan the crowd, on high alert for whatever caused her reaction, thinking it might be a bear or a wild horse.

“What did you see?” I ask, my voice low and urgent. Just because we’re on a ranch, it doesn’t mean the wildlife will stay up in the mountains or in the wooded area to our right.

“My parents,” Chloe replies in a hushed tone.

I chuckle, the sound vibrating in my chest as my body relaxes. “And they’re who you’re hiding from?”

Well, she did say there would be a lot of drama today.

Chloe’s focus is on a woman flapping her arms about as she talks to the minister up ahead. There’s a man standing next to her with a serious look on his face, and for a moment, I wonder how these two people made someone like Chloe.

“Just wait until you meet them, and then you’ll understand,” she whispers as if she can hear my thoughts.

Placing my hand over hers, I reply, “I’m the parent whisperer. They’re gonna love me.” Although, looking at them, I’m not sure how true that is.

Chloe mutters something under her breath that gets lost on the gentle breeze. But, in truth, I’m too distracted by the feeling of uncertainty colliding with the need for Chloe’s people to like me. For reasons I can’t put my finger on, meeting Chloe’s parents feels more significant than it should.

“Chloe, darling.” The woman approaches, her arms outstretched, with what I would assume is a couple of hundred thousand dollars in diamonds around her neck.

Chloe lets go of my arm, and the loss hits like a punch to the gut. As if she doesn’t need me and can fend for herself. Right then, I want to reach out and touch her, to remind her that I’m here if she needs me, and the thought catches me off guard.

Shoving my hands into my pockets for something else to do—I’ve been doing that a lot lately when it comes to her—I watch the interaction taking place in front of me. Chloe hugs her mom first and then her dad. The interaction feels forced, like strangers meeting for the first time at an event, not parents and a child coming together.

Stepping back to stand beside me, Chloe says, “Mom, Dad, this is Kade Wilde.”

I hold my hand out to her mom, but she embraces me, drowning me in a cloud of musky floral perfume as she air-kisses my cheeks. “You must be the boyfriend.”

For reasons I cannot fathom, I find myself replying, “Yes, ma’am.”

At the same time that Chloe starts to reply, “He’s no⁠—”

The sound of her snapping her mouth shut is audible, but I ignore it, shaking her father’s hand before moving back to my place beside Chloe. I wrap an arm around her waist, settling my hand on her hip as if it’s the most natural thing to do, and we’ve known each other for more than three days. She fits against me a little too easily.

I don’t miss the way her mom’s gaze drops to my hand before darting around the field. She seems flustered when she speaks. “The ceremony will be starting soon, but it would be nice to have dinner soon, Chloe.” She pauses before looking me up and down and adding, “Just the three of us.”

Chloe doesn’t respond, but I can feel the tension from earlier go up a notch. She reminds me of an uncertain colt, wanting to be anywhere but here, and ready to bolt at any moment.

Her mom seems satisfied when Chloe finally nods, and then, as quickly as they came, her parents are gone, walking off to talk to other guests. I can’t help but compare that interaction with how my mom and I are. It’s polar opposites, and a sadness creeps into my chest at the thought that Chloe has only ever known this.

We move to the front row, finding the little cards with Chloe’s name on them before taking our seats. She looks around, no doubt checking that nobody is within hearing distance, before murmuring, “You didn’t have to do that.”

When I don’t speak, she adds, “You didn’t have to lie about being my boyfriend.” There’s a sense of urgency to her tone, but none of the annoyance I expected at having declared myself her boyfriend. Instead, it’s like I did her a favor and she’s grateful for it.

Taking her hand on the pretense of looking like we’re together, I move my thumb over the back of her hand, her skin probably the softest thing I’ve ever touched. “It felt like the right thing to do. Besides, I won’t see your parents again after today, and I think we can play pretend just this once, right?”