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flustered about the kissing part because she couldn’t deny she had often wondered about that. Ace moved closer and slid an arm across the back of her seat. Miranda felt her cheeks burn. “What are you thinking right now, Miranda?”
    “What it would feel like to be kissed by you,” she answered honestly, lowering her head.
    He pushed the weight of her hair away from her shoulder, feeling the warmth at the nape of her neck. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” he said. His thumb stroked her cheek as he leaned in, closing the distance between them and brushing her lips with his.
    Miranda felt the tension between them as she reached out a hand to caress the shadowy stubble across his jaw. She smelled the brandy in his breath and felt intoxicated. She saw desire spring into his hooded eyes and felt his arm slide down the small of her back. She closed her eyes as he kissed her gently and then with ever increasing pressure. Miranda wrapped her arms around his neck, ignoring the warning in her ear.
    “Remember this is just make-believe.”
    Miranda felt his heart racing against hers. She moaned softly in his mouth as his fingers caressed the small indentation in her collarbone. She was eager for more and gave a small cry when he suddenly drew away.
    “See, I knew you were ready.” Ace smiled.
    “You asshole, you were playing me?” Miranda was aghast.
    “I’ve always wanted to kiss you. You’re a desirable woman and I doubt, as you fear, that my grandfather will have misgivings about you and me.”
    “…I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” The words sounded so good, they made her giddy. And for a make-believe relationship that was dangerous territory.
    ***
    Miranda dreaded the meeting with old man Masterson more than anything in the world.
    “Are you sure he knows we’re coming?”
    “Yes, along with a huddle of lawyers who will give you the third-degree.”
    “What?” She replied in horror, not realizing he was teasing. “You idiot,” she remarked, catching on.
    “Mommy, it’s not nice to call people names,” a tiny voice called from the backseat.  Ace had proposed the wild idea of bringing Sadie along.
    “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” She apologized.
    “Mommy is just nervous about meeting grandpa.” Ace informed Sadie.
    “Mommy said he might not like her. But that’s okay coz you like mommy, don’t you?”
    “Yes Sadie, I like mommy very much,” Ace replied, glancing at Miranda meaningfully. He squeezed her hand lightly. “You’ll be okay,” he assured her.
    Ace was right. The old man looked imposing, even seated on a wheelchair with a blanket covering his emaciated legs.  Miranda realized his irascible veneer stemmed from ennui being confined to a chair. He must have been physically powerful when he was younger; but what the years couldn’t diminish was the astuteness as he studied her and Sadie.
    “Grandpa, this is Miranda.” Ace introduced her.
    Miranda approached cautiously. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Masterson.”
    He said nothing, and scrutinized her face. Miranda wanted to look away in embarrassment. Then his frown turned into a huge beam.  Miranda smiled in relief.
    “And who is this angel? She is a vision and I’m already dead.” Grandpa Masterson said, looking at Sadie who smiled and tolerated him taking her on his knee. The old man was captivated. The rest of the visit was a breeze as Miranda and Ace faked affection with soft caresses and meaningful glances.
    “We should hold the wedding here, and it should be as grand as your mom and dad’s wedding.” Masterson announced.
    “We were thinking of a simple wedding…” Miranda asserted, the words trickling off as the old man glowered. “We haven’t discussed a date yet,” Ace added.
    “Make it soon” grandfather commanded, “and I want you all to move back here with me. This house is too big for me and the fresh air will do the child good.”
    “Shouldn’t we be asking my future wife what she thinks?” Ace