Pretending He's Mine (4 page)

Sutton took the tickets. “Thank you,” she said, but the words still came out strange and awkward-sounding. Sutton was having a harder time pulling this off than she thought. She cleared her throat and tried to come up with something else to say.

Reeve seemed to notice her discomfort, because he jumped into the conversation.

“Sut and I are totally psyched to see this play. I was telling her how much I wanted to when we were walking The Artful Dodger the other day. And now, look at this. You give us tickets. It’s like serendipity,” he said.

Sutton longed to breathe a deep sigh of relief. He’d not only come up with a little nickname for her, he was already speaking as if he knew her daily routine. In fact, the words felt so true, and he said them with such honesty that Sutton found herself rewinding the day, reflecting on the dog walk with Reeve that never happened.

“By the way, I’m Reeve Larkin. Love your movies. All of them,” he said, and Janelle nodded once in thanks to his acknowledgement of her behind-the-scenes efforts.

“Well, I better be on my way. What are you two up to the rest of the day?” Janelle asked, then lowered her voice in a whisper. “A little session on the casting couch?”

She winked and Sutton was shocked. Janelle had seemed so conservative in the meeting earlier today, and now here she was making little innuendoes. Reeve took the bait and moved over to Sutton, draping an arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. Her skin tingled when he touched her, and to her surprise she shivered as he ran his thumb against the fabric of her shirt.

“What can I say?” Reeve said with a sheepish shrug. “Sometimes I just need to stop by and visit my woman in the middle of the day.”

Janelle nodded as if she understood exactly what Reeve meant. Sutton wasn’t even sure what Reeve meant, and she suddenly felt unmoored, as if Reeve and Janelle were in on something, and she—the one who’d engineered this fake engagement—were the clueless one.

“Enjoy the show,” Janelle said and walked down the hallway. Janelle glanced back once and as soon as she did, Reeve moved in for a kiss. He pressed his lips lightly against Sutton’s, and she was so surprised by the unexpected kiss that she jumped.

“Oh.”

Sutton looked down the hall, and Janelle was gone. Thank God she hadn’t seen Sutton react so weirdly to a kiss.

“You okay?” Reeve asked.

“Absolutely. Just surprised is all.”

“Well, if we’re going to pull this off, you might want to get used to me kissing you.”

“Right. Absolutely. I should definitely get used to that,” she said, but what she really needed to do was get her groove back. She was a take-charge kind of woman and needed to start steering this ship properly. If that meant getting used to kisses, so be it. If that meant reviewing the basics of their relationship so she could say the word fiancé without choking on it, then she’d do that too.

She placed a hand on a hip and appraised Reeve from top to bottom. “We should review our backstory. And I think we’re going to need a better outfit for you to go the theater. We do have box seats.”

“What? You don’t think I have nice clothes for the theater? I’ve been to the theater. I’ve auditioned for plenty of shows. I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck.”

“I know,” she said in a decisive tone as she ran her index finger up his pecs, her way of taking back the reins. Then she lowered her voice to a faux whisper even though it was just the two of them in the hallway. “But you’re mine now for a week and I want to play dress up.” She looked at her watch. “I have to make some calls on this TV guest doctor role I’m casting tomorrow for Overnight Shift,” she said, referring to the popular medical drama. She’d written down her list of ten potentials this morning on the cab ride over to her office. She didn’t even have to look them up on her computer; she simply knew who the ten best prospects were by tapping into her mental rolodex. She never forgot a pretty face or a talent to behold. “Can you wait for me in the lobby and I’ll be free in fifteen minutes to go to Elizabeth’s and get you a new shirt and pants?”

He nodded, and she returned to her office and shut the door. She sank down into her chair and scrolled through her files to find the numbers of the agents she had to call. Not only did she need to get matters quickly squared away for the role of the plastic surgeon who saves the day, she needed to get her mind off the way her body felt when Reeve had touched her.

On the way to the men’s department at Elizabeth’s, Sutton and Reeve walked past the jewelry counters. Sutton was drawn to the necklaces and bracelets. She’d always been a bit like a squirrel—taken in by shiny objects. But she didn’t stop this time. Instead, she “tsk-tsked” the displays. “This store seriously needs some necklaces,” she said.

“Funny. I was thinking that myself,” Reeve joked.

She wagged a finger at him. “Aren’t you a playful one?”

“Take me to the park and throw me a Frisbee. See how high I can jump.”

“Oh, I might just take you up on that. I do like dogs.”

“Want to put a leash on me too?”

“Would you like that Reeve?” Sutton asked, in her best seductive voice. If they were going to be a pretend couple, then she was going to play at innuendo.

“I find that I’m generally open to pretty much everything. Want to do it outside? I’m your man. In front of the window with the neighbors across the street watching? Totally fine with that. On the stairwell in your office building? Put up the bat signal and I’m good to go.”

“Would you arrive with a cape too?” Sutton asked as they walked past glass displays with watches, gloves and scarves.

“Of course. I’m good with costumes. I could even put on a mask if you want,” he remarked, moving closer to Sutton to let a woman pushing a high-end baby stroller past them. He brushed Sutton’s shoulder as he leaned into her, and Sutton found herself making a mental note about how very nice his body felt against hers. Of course, it was good that she felt this way, right? It would help her win the contract. But to win the job, she also needed to make sure their backstory was airtight. This was like the prep work she’d do for any job. Whenever she pitched new producers, she was thoroughly and completely ready—she researched all their films or shows, watched everything they made, and studied up on interesting personal details, like whether they liked to collect sports cars or rare LPs.

“Lovely. I’ll keep the mask issue in mind. Now, let’s go over the details so everything is ironclad. I think we go with the truth as to how we met. We met when I cast you in a day part for It’s Raining Men. She already knows your name since you met her already.”

“Damn. I was really hoping to be a Sven.”

Sutton laughed and raised an eyebrow. “Sven?”

“Okay, so I’m Reeve Larkin from Ohio. My dad’s a cop. My mom’s a teacher. I went to Ohio State.”

Sutton rolled her eyes. “Please say you’re kidding.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s right out of central casting, Reeve! Cop dad and teacher mom? You’re the too-good-to-be-true boy from Middle America who went to the hometown college to boot.”

“It’s the truth, though. Studied American Lit for my major.”

“Okay, fine. And we started dating shortly after the premiere of It’s Raining Men six months ago.”

“Ah, so it all started up in May. I remember that. You looked so hot at the premiere in that slinky black dress.”

Sutton stopped walking and placed a hand on Reeve’s arm. “You remember what I wore?”

“You’re gorgeous. You cast me in a movie. Yes, I remember.”

Sutton pressed her teeth against her lower lip for just a second, fighting to ignore the feeling that swept through her. As if he’d tapped into something with his remark.

“So we went out the next night,” she said, continuing the fable of their love affair.

“To Italian,” he added. “Because that’s my favorite. What’s your favorite food?”

“Fish and chips.”

“Funny, doesn’t show.” He eyed her from head to toe.

“I walk my dog an hour a day.”

“That’s one lucky dog.”

“He deserves only the best. I need to buy him a new jacket though. It’s getting colder,” she said, remembering how The Artful Dodger had shivered on their morning power-walk in Central Park. Poor little love. Last year’s fleece jacket was a bit worn. He needed a new one very soon. “I also do yoga and pilates.”

“Of course. What’s your favorite book? Wait. It has to be Oliver Twist. Because of your dog.”

She flashed him another grin, impressed that he’d connected the dots between her dog’s name and the fictional character he was named for. “You are a bright one.”

“Well, I’d be an idiot if I hadn’t figured that out. Is he a pickpocket, your dog?”

“Nope. Trained him out of it. Your favorite book?”

“Toss up between Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas or The Great Gatsby.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Anything you’ve cast,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, we are a perfect pair. That’s my favorite movie too.”

“Okay, when are we moving in together?”

“After the wedding. I have to protect my virtue, of course.”

“Right. Virtue. On the subject of virtue, what’s your favorite position?” Reeve asked as they walked past high-heeled shoes.

Sutton stopped. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I’m not buying the protecting-the-virtue thing. I doubt they will either. So, what is it?”

“I highly doubt that will come up at dinner. Besides, our deal was for pretend. So I don’t think we need to go there.”

“No. We don’t need to go there. But yet, that Janelle…” he let his voice trail off.

“What do you mean? That Janelle?”

“I don’t know, but her little casting couch comment made me think she’s not quite as conservative as she pretends to be.”

“And because of that we need to prepare a briefing doc on our fictional sex life?” She raised an eyebrow, daring him to keep going.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he swept a strand of her soft brown hair away from her ear, and asked in a low, sexy voice, “What could it hurt for me to know how you like it, Sutton?”

Oh, he was good. He was very, very good, because she felt that swooping feeling in her belly. But she wasn’t going to be rattled by it. She was going to play along too. Sutton took a step closer to Reeve, giving him a look as if he were a naughty boy. “Doggie style,” she whispered, then watched him closely. His chest rose and fell, and he pressed his lips together, as if he were trying to hold back a word, or maybe even a moan? Perhaps he was even picturing her naked on king-size bed, on all fours as he trailed a hand down her back. Good. They’d be all the more believable then as a couple. “What’s yours, Reeve?”

He locked eyes with her and she felt goosebumps on her arms. Then, he dipped in closer, his mouth inches away. “The one you like best. That’s my favorite. My favorite thing is making you feel good.”

She drew in a sharp breath, then clamped her lips closed. But it was too late. A fuse had lit inside her. Deep in her belly, sending heat throughout her body, sending warmth to between her legs. Then she reminded herself—he was an actor, he was playing the role she’d cast him in, and he was going to win an award, because the way he’d said making you feel good seemed so true and authentic. As if he meant it. As if Reeve really had made her feel all those things in the bedroom.

“We better get moving.” She led him to the men’s section, choosing several high-end dress shirts for him, sharp pants, and a few neat ties. She was grateful to segue away from the sex talk and onto the safer terrain of wardrobe.

“This shirt is perfect for your eyes.” She held a green button-down against him.

“I feel like Julia Roberts,” he joked.

“Cue the shopping scene montage.” This was better, she thought. Keep it light, keep it simple.

“May I help you with that?”

The question came from a dressing room attendant. Reeve nodded, and the cute, perky gal took the potential purchases and showed him a dressing room. Sutton sat on the leather couch in the nearby waiting area and took out her phone. She fired off a few quick replies to agents asking questions about tomorrow’s plastic surgeon audition—Were there pages? Yes, already attached. How should the actors dress? In scrubs. Clean shaven look or stubble? Stubble, but of course—all the while picturing Reeve pulling off his tee-shirt, standing there alone in the dressing room, shirtless, only jeans on.

Damn. He made it hard to concentrate. She took off her glasses and pressed on the bridge of her nose as if she could push away all the thoughts of him.

The attendant walked by. “If you want to go in and help your boyfriend choose a shirt, it’s totally fine with me.”

Apparently, Reeve had the same idea, because Sutton heard him call out to her. “Hey, Sut. I could use a little help.”

♦ ♦ ♦

A boyfriend would definitely want to show potential purchases to his girlfriend, Reeve reasoned. This was part of the role, and he had to play it well. To impress her. But there was something else going on too. He’d thought he was playing her, but the way she talked about favorite positions, all smoky and breathy, it was like a rush of blood to the head. Now, he was picturing her, naked on a big king-size bed, on all fours, him trailing a hand down her gorgeous back.

So if they were playing pretend, he was going to enjoy it. He opened the door a bit, and watched her walk toward him. She had a hell of a body, a true hourglass shape, with a waist you just had to get your hands on. He could picture her on top of him, his strong fingers wrapping around her waist. Or she could be pressed against the wall, that fabulous sculpted ass of hers jutting out, and he could hold her that way.

His eyes drank her in as she gave a perfunctory rap of the knuckles on the open door.

“Funny. I thought you had clothes to show me.” She slid inside the dressing room. She tapped her fingertip against his naked chest. “Did you need me to help get your shirt on?”

“On. Off. Whatever you want.” He closed the door behind them.

“I think we were going for on, weren’t we?” she asked, sounding the tiniest bit breathy. Sutton couldn’t stop looking at him, Reeve noticed. She was damn near gaping at his chest and his abs. He worked out a lot. He had to look good for his job. No, he had to look a hell of a lot better than good.