“Mase is really fun. I think he’ll be a good husband. Does that mean he’d be our uncle?” Lyla asked.

“Yes, he would be your uncle.” It was a struggle to get the words out. I was tying Mason to the kids, possibly forever. I struggled to keep my breathing even as I looked at Justin. “What about you?”

He studied me carefully. “I like Mase. And the judge would probably like it if we had two guardians.”

It might be time to take Justin’s tablet away for a while. “You don’t need to worry about that piece of things. I only need to know if you’d be happy living at Mason’s.”

His jaw hardened. “I’m happy living anywhere that isn’t with Grandma and Grandpa.”

My chest gave a painful squeeze, and I reached out to take his hand. “I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Justin’s eyes met mine, and I saw understanding beyond his years there. “Thanks, Anna.”

Kennedy bustled into the living room with a tray. “I’ve got crackers and cheese, grapes, and some lemonade.”

I gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Lyla bounced on the couch as she reached for a cracker. “Did you know Mase is gonna be my uncle?”

Kennedy took a seat in the empty chair next to the couch. “I heard something about that.”

“I didn’t even know they were boyfriend and girlfriend,” Lyla said around a mouthful of food.

“Your aunt is pretty good at keeping secrets.”

Heat crept up the back of my neck. “You know I’m a private person.” That much wasn’t a lie. Everything I’d had to bring out into the open this past week had almost been more than I could take.

Kennedy’s lips twitched. “And you probably didn’t want anyone at the shelter getting the wrong idea or thinking Mase was getting favorable treatment.”

Justin popped a grape into his mouth. “He is kind of bossy on the soccer field. Probably because he has an in with the boss.”

Kennedy chuckled, and my face only got hotter as I squirmed in my seat. It would take a while for me to get used to this kind of attention.

I smoothed my hands down the sides of my dress. I’d spent too much money on it, but after Mason’s warning that this needed to look as real as possible, I’d panicked. I hadn’t wanted to look like I’d thrown on something from the back of my closet. I wanted it to look special.

But now, I regretted going all out. I could’ve picked something less fancy and still looked nice. This wasn’t a real wedding. It was a life jacket. An emergency ladder. But here I was, playing dress-up.