Her dark eyes narrow. “Nothing at all.”
“Hmm,” I hum. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“I’m not sure I care,” she retorts and speed walks ahead of me.
Laughter flies out of me. This woman. She’s insanely amusing.
I catch up with her easily and keep my mouth shut of all teasing. She leads me into a small café on the water side of the street. We order at the counter and the cashier hands over a number card to display on the table.
Winding through the café, I follow her outside to a table right by the bay. She settles in a chair, and I take the one across from her.
“Oh my God, look!” She points and I follow the direction of her finger to find a lone sea lion sunbathing on a patch of large rocks. “He’s so cute,” she gushes.
“You don’t see that every day.”
My phone rings and I look down to see it’s my mom. I’ve been dodging her calls as much as possible since I had to tell her about marrying Ebba. I was honest with my family that it was an accident, a total spur of the moment decision, but my mom is a romantic at heart—probably where I get it from—and insists this is meant to be. As much as I want to believe it, and I’m going to try to my hardest to convince Ebba of that, there’s still a part of me that’s trying to protect my heart and brace myself for the worst at the end of all of this.
Ebba eyes my caller ID. “You better answer that.”
Sighing, I shake my head. “She’s just going to ask when I’m bringing you to visit.”
Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Are you trying to hide me away from her?”
My phone stops ringing. “No, of course not. Do youwantto visit my parents?”
She rests her elbow on the table and her head in her hand. “Maybe we should?”
“If I say anything about us visiting before we head to Melbourne, she’s going to expect us on Christmas.”
Ebba gives a tiny shrug. “That’s fine.”
I try to hide my surprise. “You want to spend Christmas with my family, not yours?”
She taps her nails lazily against her cheek. The sun is beginning to set, haloing her in a hue of warm oranges and deep pinks. “You’re the one who keeps calling me wife and remindingme we’re married. Married people visit their families during the holidays.”
“I feel like you’re fucking with me.”
“I’m not,” she insists. “You know I love your parents.”
“So, I should call her back and tell her we’re coming for Christmas?”
“Yep.”
I’m still not sure where this sudden interest in visiting my parents is coming from, but I’m not going to complain. It’s always nice when I can see them.
I pick up my phone, waiting for her to tell me to stop, but she never does.
“Hey, Mom,” I say when she picks up. “Sorry I missed you. Ebba and I were just grabbing a table at this café. It’s nice here. You’d like it.”
She laughs softly. “Don’t lie. You’ve been ignoring me.”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve just been busy with best man stuff.” Lies. Noah’s barely asked me to do anything.
“Mhm, sure,” she hums with amused disbelief.
“Ebba and I were just talking about visiting for a few days over Christmas before we leave for Melbourne.”
“Oh?” Excitement has her voice rising an octave.