feeling vulnerable in the bright sun. She dipped her head and studied the others arriving. So far she didn’t recognize anyone.
“Giselle,” Fin called. His heels made a crunching sound as he approached from the other side of the car. He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded toward her hand. “You might want to take that off.”
She followed his gaze. Her ring. Of course. She twisted it off with more force than was necessary and threw it into her purse as if it burned her fingers. “Thanks.”
She trudged through the lot, unable to meet Fin’s eyes. He kept pace beside her while Coco galloped nearby.
“It makes me look pathetic, doesn’t it?” she whispered, fighting tears.
He didn’t respond, only matched her strides with his own. Eventually, they got to the picket fence that led to the church sidewalk, and he opened the gate to guide her through.
“I asked for purely selfish reasons.” He bent toward her ear. “I don’t want people to think I sleep with married women.”
Giselle stumbled across the wooden gate frame. She was unable to look Fin’s way the rest of the walk.
The church vestibule bulged with funeral guests. Giselle and Fin pressed their way into the warm center, the heavy scent of perfume catching in Giselle’s throat. She hoped no one from Roy’s family would take notice of her yet. Showing up with a hot young man at her elbow and a fake new life was one thing, but having to spin the lie inside a church was another. She gripped Coco’s hand and inched toward the main double doors.
“Gis-
elle
,” said a woman’s voice from beside her. Giselle recognized it immediately, and took a deep breath as she turned to greet Roy’s sister, Ray-Lynn, who was sidling toward them. Ray-Lynn’s voice was laden with sadness—dripping all over that second syllable. It was unclear whether the sadness was for Joe’s death or Giselle’s divorce.
“Ray-
Lynn
,” Giselle replied in a matching tone.
They exchanged hugs, and Ray-Lynn bent to give Coco a squeeze, commenting on how big she’d gotten and how much she looked like Roy, which Giselle didn’t really see.
Giselle watched Ray-Lynn’s eyes dart toward Fin. For a moment, Giselle simply relished: in Ray-Lynn’s speculation, in her confusion, in her probable thoughts that maybe she didn’t need to be as sorry for Giselle as she had been these last several months.
But Ray-Lynn took the mystery into her own hands, and extended her ring-laden fingertips. “I’m Ray-Lynn, Giselle’s ex-sister-in-law.”
“Fin Hensen.” He shook her hand gently and threw her a grin that sent her other hand fluttering to her collarbone.
Ray-Lynn didn’t let go, seemingly waiting for him to clarify. He leaned forward and whispered, “I’m sorry for your loss.” He brought the wattage of his smile down with his voice.
Ray-Lynn opened her mouth, but closed it again as Giselle took Coco’s hand and snuck her toward the doorway.
Fin’s fingers touched the small of Giselle’s back as he led her down the aisle.
This was definitely her best plan yet.
• • •
As the minister spoke, Fin glanced around, absorbed in the smell of shoe polish and bad aftershave. He wondered which was the ex. Must be the dude sitting up front, with the doctor glasses on—the one who kept twisting his neck toward Giselle.
At his fourth or fifth glance, Fin was certain. He reached for Giselle’s hand in her lap.
Giselle about leaped out of the pew.
He let go quickly and reassigned his hands to peeling off his jacket. Damn, it was hot in here.
He didn’t know what she wanted. And he didn’t know whether he should touch her. Touching her, in fact, just might be off the table because now, after touching her hand in her lap and accidentally brushing her thigh, his mind had gone into complete sexual overdrive. He let it continue for about twenty seconds, but then reminded himself where he was, and who she was, and how inappropriate this was on so many