“What?” He chuckled in surprise, a low rumbly sound in his chest.

“It’s true.” She dropped her gaze, studying the petals on the flowers. “When you look at me, my heart puffs up. It gets all squishy and I feel warm and sweet inside.”

“Oh,” he breathed.

Embarrassed by her revelation, Julia risked a glance at him.

He was smiling down at her, gray eyes shining like a sunny sky after rain. “Have I ever told you I love marshmallows?”

Squish.

Julia was about to go up on her tiptoes and kiss him again when Penelope, the game master, approached. She was holding a clipboard and looked like she meant business.

“You two,” she pointed. “You’re going to be on deck soon. Are you ready?”

“Um, we haven’t really had a chance to practice,” Julia admitted.

“No problem,” Penelope said easily. “I know this was all kind of last minute. We’ll just have you do a quick entrance and exit on the stage for now. As long as you’re sure you’ll be ready tomorrow night.”

“We’ll be ready,” Luke assured her.

Was it Julia’s imagination or did he just exchange a strange glance with the woman? She shook her head. She was doing that thing again. Looking for trouble when there wasn’t any. But when Penelope grinned up at Luke, her gray eyes bright with mischief, something clicked into place.

“Holy shit.”

“Pardon?” Penelope blinked at her.

And there it was again, that same twinge of recognition Julia had felt when meeting Penelope on the first night. That was why the woman had seemed so familiar. Julia had recognized those eyes. Eyes that looked so much like Luke’s.

“You’re his sister, aren’t you?”

If Julia wasn’t sure before, the uneasy glances passing between Penelope and Luke, as well as the guilt written all over both their faces, was proof enough. The marshmallow in her chest turned into a brick. “I can’t believe I was such an idiot.”

“Julia—” Luke began.

“No.” She stopped him, not wanting to hear his excuses. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. I mean I did, but I kept ignoring it.” She looked at him then, the warmth she’d felt moments ago draining away. “This is all fake.” She laughed bitterly. “I know it’s all supposed to be fake, but I thought you … I thought we…” She stopped, choking back the rest. “I mean, come on. Who says stuff like ‘Whoops-a-daisies’? That’s straight out of Notting Hill.”