The Wedding Hoax (11 page)

Chapter Twelve

Cole stood from the table as Daisy walked up, helping her out of her coat and hanging it on the hook beside the booth. The restaurant was crowded but not full since they were eating a little later than usual, both too busy at work to leave any earlier that evening. Aside from the darkening under her eyes, no one would ever know she was exhausted. But after living with her for more than a month since she’d moved in, he could read her like he could see the imperfections in himself.

And yet, every day he saw her, he was more amazed by her stunning beauty. Tonight was no different.

As they got settled he asked, “How are things at the boutique?”

“Great,” she said enthusiastically, not looking the least bit tired after the long day. “It’s been so busy since the bridal shows. Seems everyone wants a custom gown. It’s going to be hard to get them all made, but I’m going to make it happen if it kills me. How’s the magazine?”

“Great. Subscriptions are triple what they used to be. I just wish there was more time in the day to get everything done.”

“Maybe you need to give over the reins a little. Take a bit of a breather so you can focus on the bigger things and let others handle the smaller stuff.” She sipped her wine, then scanned the menu as if she hadn’t just told him how to run his business. He needed another person telling him what he was doing wrong like he needed another fake fiancée. What happened to the girl who’d believed in his competence in Chicago?

“Would you let someone design your gowns?” he challenged. He wasn’t angry, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Daisy siding with his father, either.

“No. I design the gowns, but I would have another seamstress sew them. Actually, I’m looking to hire a couple of dressmakers right now.” She met his gaze. “There’s no need to get touchy. I was only offering a suggestion.”

“I’m tired of everyone insinuating I can’t manage my business effectively. I thought we agreed to stay out of each other’s work?”

“We also agreed to stay out of each other’s pants. Seems we don’t play by the rules very well.”

“If we’re going to break the rules, then I’d much rather break the sleeping together again one. At least that deviation from the plan feels good. Great actually.”

“I’m not discussing that incident with you.” She leveled him with a look that challenged him to push the issue further.

He mirrored her expression. “And I’m not discussing my business.”

She put her hand on his where it rested on the table. “I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t handle it all. I know you can.” His shoulders relaxed, and he twisted his hand in hers so that their palms were together. The feeling of her touch was strangely comforting. He ran his thumb over the diamond on her finger. It was strange. The more he saw her with it, the more he got used to it being there, and the more he kind of liked it. There was something satisfying about knowing even when she wasn’t with him, other men would see her ring and know that she was taken.

The waitress brought their meals, saving him from thinking too much about what he’d just admitted to himself.

“The magazine’s been extra busy featuring our engagement and wedding plans. The reader polls should close soon, too,” he said, moving on to safer-topic territory.

“It’ll be fun to see what options won,” Daisy said, cutting into her steak and taking a bite.

“Are you worried about what they’ve picked?”

“Not really. I know I’ll like the dress because I handpicked the options. As for the wedding ring, flowers, and everything else, it doesn’t really matter that much to me. Whatever they choose will be good enough.”

Good enough because this wedding didn’t really matter to either of them. The thought stung unexpectedly.

Only one poll concerned him: the honeymoon destination. If he was forced to take time off work for a vacation, he wanted it to be somewhere good. Unfortunately, Mason hadn’t given them any say in the options.

“I’m most curious about where they’ll send us on our honeymoon,” he mused around a bite of steak.

“Why’s that?”

“Because if they picked an Alaskan cruise, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I’ve heard those are really nice. You get to see a lot of wildlife and glaciers.”

“Animals and ice. No thanks.” He laughed.

“Where would you want to go on our honeymoon?” she asked.

The question hung in the air between them.

Our honeymoon.
A honeymoon with Daisy. He never dreamed he’d one day be talking casually about his honeymoon destination. He’d feared it though.

He cleared his throat.
This is just pretend. No different than any other vacation.
“Out of the options people were given for…you know… I’d choose Bora Bora. Those huts right over the water look unbelievable. What about you?”

“Probably Hawaii. I’ve always wanted to see the volcanoes and lava tunnels. And lounging in a hammock with a view of the ocean would be awesome. I think sleeping over the water would scare me a little, but sleeping with an ocean-front view would be perfect.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky, and we’ll end up with one of our choices.”

“If not, it’s still a free vacation, so how bad could it be? Well, as long as it’s not the Paris option.”

“Why not Paris?” he asked. “It’s supposed to be beautiful.”

“I’m sure it is, but if I’m flying over the ocean, it better be to bury my toes in the sand with a margarita in hand.”

“That sounds like a song.” He pictured her on the beach, soaking up the sun, wearing a tiny bikini. He could get onboard with anywhere tropical.

“I think it might be.” She pushed her dinner plate away and leaned back in the booth. “That was delicious. How have I never heard of this place before?”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s one of my favorite restaurants in the city.”

“If it’s one of your favorites, then why didn’t you ever bring me here before?”

“I didn’t know it existed then.” The waitress took their dishes away, and they both ordered coffees, too full to indulge in dessert.

“One of your dates brought you here, didn’t she?” she asked quietly.

“We only went out a few times, but she suggested this place once, and I was hooked ever since. On the restaurant, not her.”

They finished their coffee with a combination of silence and clipped small talk. Why a past fling that meant nothing to him should bother her didn’t make sense. It wasn’t as if he still had feelings for that girl, and even if he did, was it Daisy’s place to make him feel guilty about it?

Holy shit. I feel guilty.

He glanced out the front window, and his stomach dropped. He’d forgotten about telling Mason he’d be out for dinner with Daisy tonight. He’d thought it would be a good opportunity to snap a few pictures of them together. Now he worried what exactly the cameras had seen. Dinner hadn’t gone exactly as he’d planned.

“Before we head out,” he said while grabbing their coats. “There are some photographers outside who are going to want a few pictures of us.”

“There are? How did they even know we were here?”

“I told Mason, and he told them. We thought it would be good to get some pictures of us together, out in the wild, acting like a normal couple.” He said the last part quietly so none of the surrounding table would hear them.

“And how normal do we have to be for the camera?”

“Just hold my hand, smile, look at me like you like me…or maybe like you don’t want to throttle me. That shouldn’t be so hard, right?”

She sighed, taking his hand. “There are moments you’d be surprised how hard that is.”

At least she still had her sense of humor. They walked out of the restaurant, pausing as if surprised to see the cameras waiting for them. They laughed, hugged, and smiled for the photographers.

“How was your date night?” one of the photographers asked.

“Very romantic. I love this girl.” Cole beamed down at Daisy as a cold sweat broke out along his spine. That came out way easier than he’d expected. Too easily. He hadn’t even stumbled over the L-word this time.

Daisy stared at him, frozen since the L-word had passed through his lips. He was feeling pretty paralyzed right now, too.

“Show us you mean it,” another photographer called.

He wrapped her in a tight embrace, whispering in her ear. “I didn’t realize they’d expect a kiss.”

When he looked into her eyes again, all he could see was the way she’d looked at him in Chicago, her breast in his hand, her lips on his. Kissing her again definitely wasn’t a hardship in his books, but her opinion of the situation was unreadable.

Before he could wonder about what she wanted any longer, she went up on her toes and kissed him. He held her tight, savoring the moment when her tongue dipped into his mouth. The
click
and
snap
of cameras drifted into silence. All he heard was a soft sigh from her. He smelled the floral scent of her perfume. He tasted rich coffee on her tongue.

She pulled away from him, breaking their kiss but not the spell she had inflicted on him. He wanted to kiss her more, deeper, harder, press her up against the wall of the restaurant and have his way with her. But he couldn’t. Not if he was supposed to be on his best behavior.

Chapter Thirteen

Daisy put the last of her things into the chest of drawers. Cole’s guest room still didn’t feel completely hers. Of course it had been two months since she’d moved in, and she’d only now managed to finish unpacking the last box, so it was no wonder it didn’t feel like home.

And it was perfectly reasonable not to have finished her unpacking before tonight. Or at least that’s what she was telling herself.

She knew she should have been completely settled long ago, but she’d been so busy at work designing gowns for her clients and developing her new more affordable line, she simply hadn’t found time to fully unpack. Any time she’d had outside of work had been spent either going out with Cole to dinners so people would see them together, or staying in and hiding from the public. Mostly, she’d been so tired after her long days that at night she opted to relax with movies, television, or books. Not unpacking.

Now here she was—finally moved in with Cole. Sleeping down the hall. And sharing one bathroom between them. Luckily they’d agreed on a schedule when she first moved in: she showered in the morning and he did so at night. So far they’d avoided any awkward moments of near nakedness. If they could keep this up, they may actually make it to the wedding without any more close calls. And she might make it through their business deal without falling into his arms again.

“You want Chinese for dinner?” he asked from where he leaned against her doorframe.

She liked that even though this apartment was his, he still respected her space enough to not enter her room without permission. Half the time he didn’t even ask to come in. Seemed he’d taken a liking to simply watching her from the open doorway.

“Chinese is fine. But you don’t have to ask me about dinner every night. I’m a big girl. I can find myself food.”

“You want our usual?”

She nodded, still not believing she even had a usual anything with Cole. Anytime they ordered Chinese, he’d get the beef with broccoli and she’d get the chow mein. Then they’d both get bored and switch halfway through.

He had also taken to making sure she ate breakfast each day, something she often forgot in her rush to get to work. For a guy who claimed to be the world’s best bachelor, he sure did know how to make a woman feel comfortable and taken care of in his home. And she did feel comfortable here with him. Possibly too comfortable.

Many times over the last few weeks she’d had to remind herself that they were only living together for show and not as a real relationship. But her daily pep talks didn’t seem to be sinking in lately. Every time he was thoughtful of her needs or wants, she felt her resolve to stay away from him crumbling a little more. If she didn’t put the brakes on her emotions soon, it would be too late. But she couldn’t help it. Cole was too damn likeable.

“Zombie flick is on,” he called from the living room.

She joined him on the couch, much preferring to watch zombies search for their dinner while waiting for hers instead of hanging out in the bedroom alone. She cringed and he cheered as a zombie was shot with an arrow through the head, blood splattering in a completely over-the-top and wonderful special effect. “Awesome,” they said in unison. They may not have the same philosophy about life, but they definitely found middle ground when it came to movie preferences. Both would rather watch a gory flick or a comedy rather than a drama that made you cry.

It was a nice change to watch a zombie movie with someone who would actually appreciate one. The last couple of guys she’d dated since her first go-round with Cole had only liked war movies and documentaries. No thanks.

He nudged a bowl toward her. “Popcorn?”

“Didn’t you order the Chinese?”

He nodded and gave her a lopsided grin. “Appetizer?”

The doorbell rang before she had a chance to give into the scent of buttered kernels. “Dinner’s here.”

He went to the door, and she wandered down the hall to grab money from her room. She didn’t want him to pick up the tab for dinner again. Although he always refused her money, she still felt the desire to offer it. One of these days, she’d remember to bring her wallet with her and beat him to the door.

When she returned to the kitchen, he sat at the tiny two-seater table and motioned for her to join him. She did so cautiously. He had already dished out their dinner, but instead of eating out of the take-out containers like they usually did, he’d put the food on plates, sharing the meal between them. In the middle of the table, a large pillar candle cast a warm glow.

“What’s all this?” she asked, the suspicion clear in her voice.

“Dinner,” he said innocently.
Too innocently?

“I can see that. But it’s on plates. And there’s candlelight.”

“Can’t sneak anything past you, can I?” He chuckled and poured her a glass of champagne. “It’s not a margarita, but I know champagne is your second favorite, so hopefully this will suffice.”

“Nice dinner, candlelight, alcohol…” That wasn’t going to help her to resist him. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

“The last time you said that and fed me food and liquor, we ended up on the floor, naked.”

“And the problem is?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“The problem is I’m not going down that road again, and I thought you understood.”

He leaned back in his chair and took a gulp of champagne. “I do, and I’m only kidding. Truth is, I figured putting the food on plates was easier than swapping take-out containers. Then when I got the food on the table, it looked pathetic on paper plates, so I lit a candle. And when I went looking for something to drink, I realized we ran out of soda, and water is too boring for a Saturday night, even for an old engaged couple like us.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “No ulterior motives?”

“Nope. Just a quiet Saturday night in.” He took another gulp of his champagne, then refilled his glass. “Unless you change your mind about the whole naked on the floor thing. I’d also be happy to mix it up to try a naked in my bed thing. Or even a semiclothed-on-the-couch thing. I’m easy to please.”

She shot him what he had long ago termed “The Look,” then took her own sip of champagne. She couldn’t deny that next to margaritas, champagne was her favorite. She was surprised he’d remembered. Most men didn’t remember what she ate for lunch that day, and yet Cole seemed to have all sorts of details about her locked away.

“Do you find it hard not going out with the boys on the weekends?” she asked, pointedly ignoring his other comments.

“I do. It was a big part of my life, so it’s a little weird to be at home so much. I feel like I should be working more if I’m not out relaxing.”

“You know, engaged men do still go out with the boys sometimes. You don’t have to sit at home with me every weekend.” Not that she minded having Cole’s company around the house on the weekends. It had been a little awkward at first, but now she sort of looked forward to it.

“I could. But it’s not the same.”

“Because you can’t flirt with women?”

“That’s part of it.”

“Sorry to cramp your style.” She took a bite of her food, annoyed with herself for feeling like a burden to his otherwise rampant sex life. Much unlike her own more subdued, bordering on nonexistent sex life.

“I never said you were. Yes, it’s different going out with the boys and being the only one in the group who isn’t flirting up anyone with tits and a short skirt. But no, you’re not cramping my style. Honestly, it’s nice to get a break from that lifestyle. It’s hard being with someone new every weekend.”

The thought of Cole in some strange woman’s bed each weekend sent a serious spike of jealousy through her. Memories of their tryst in Chicago flooded her mind, hitting her full force as if she’d been whacked in the head with a bat. Heat sprang to her cheeks, a reaction to her unexpected mix of jealousy and longing. She shouldn’t care what he’d done before they got engaged. Hell, she shouldn’t care what he did or with whom
while
they were engaged, since their entire arrangement was a hoax. But damn it if the images in her head of him being ridden by some other woman didn’t make her want to jump across the table and straddle him herself just to remind him how good she was at it.

She choked on her next sip of champagne, too involved in her own imagination to pay attention to something as minor as not drowning herself in alcohol. Literally. As she sputtered and tried to regain her breath, her lungs constricted, and tears formed in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

Great. Now he’ll really wish he was with some other beautiful woman.

He knelt at her side, patting her on the back. “Are you okay? Do you need me to do the Heimlich maneuver or something?”

“No! Good. Fine. Really.” She coughed out the words and wiped the tears from her face with a rough paper napkin, not caring if she had makeup raccoon eyes as long as she didn’t have snot anywhere. The last thing she needed right now was Cole behind her, with his arms wrapped around her midsection, thrusting any part of himself against her. She’d rather choke.

Forcing a deep, shaky breath into her lungs, she turned to shoo him back to his own seat, but when she came face-to-face with him, she couldn’t find words. His brow was creased with concern; one of his big, strong hands still lingered on her back, rubbing tiny circles between her shoulder blades in a most enjoyable way while the other rested on her thigh.

She couldn’t remember the last time a man had wanted to take care of her like this, and not just this moment when he thought she was choking, but everything he’d done lately. His concern, caring, he was too much. Too nice, sweet…loving.

His lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something.

All she could see was his mouth on another woman’s body, and jealousy shot through her again. She’d tried so hard to ignore him for the last few months. She’d put their fling in Chicago out of her mind as much as she possibly could so she wouldn’t have to remember the feel of his body on hers or the way her heart ached to be with him again. To be needed by him again.

Without thinking, without debating, without any ounce of self-control, she tangled her hands in his short hair and kissed him. Hard.

Sliding off the chair and onto her knees in front of him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She arched against him, forcing the air between their bodies to vacate the premises. There was no room for anything next to her skin, but him.

She broke the kiss long enough to tug his shirt over his head, then kissed a path down his chin and neck, biting his shoulder while she fought with his belt. Why wouldn’t her fingers work?

Screw the belt.

She pressed her hand to the hard flesh still trapped in his jeans, rubbing the length of him. Her breath caught in her chest, making it hard to get air when all she wanted to do was breathe in his musky, manly, sexual scent.

He groaned and shifted so he could slip his hand under her shirt, finding her breast. “Oh God, Dee, I’ve wanted you so bad.”

I’ve wanted you, too.
She couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud.

She found his mouth again, kissing him with a need so deep and hot she felt her insides burning. He responded, kissing her back like a man who’d been celibate for far longer than only a few months. Why had she been fighting this urge, this desire, this primal need?

No. Don’t. Stop,
her internal chaperone warned. She silenced the voice with another try at his belt. She didn’t want to stop long enough to think about what was right or wrong. She definitely didn’t want to think about his hands caressing other women over the year they’d been apart.

All she wanted to focus on was his hands as they traveled down her body to her center, stroking her as if he could start a fire with the friction of his hands against her jeans. If only he knew how hot she was already.

She finally released his belt buckle, and she struggled to pull his jeans down to his ankles. It didn’t help that he’d unbuttoned her shirt and swept it off her shoulders, effectively trapping her arms. He seized the moment to claim her breast with his mouth. She hovered over him while his mouth did things to her she hadn’t felt before. Waves of desire coursed through her.

He’s learned new tricks.
The thought of Cole touching another woman like this made her raw with jealousy, spiking her desire to be with him. She had to have him. She wanted to be the woman he learned new techniques with, not some one-night stand.

When she finally got her arms free again, she forced him onto his back. Gripping his pants and boxers, she shifted her weight off him so she could rid him of his clothes once and for all.

A chime sounded from somewhere in the apartment. She ignored it, throwing his pants to the side and drinking in the vision of pure hunk before her.

The chime sounded again. This time it was followed by a pounding noise.

“You in there, Cole?” a man called through the door.

The dense fog in her head thinned a little as she sat back on her heels, grabbing for her shirt to cover herself.

He pulled her back down onto his chest. “It’s Troy. He’ll go away in a minute.” He cupped her ass as his length pressed against her as if his brother standing out in the hall was of little concern to him.

“We can’t,” she said, feeling her head clear a little more every time Troy banged on the door. She looked at Cole and then to the door, then back at him again. “I can’t.”

What was she doing rolling around on the floor half naked with Cole? Hadn’t she sworn she wouldn’t let this happen again? And she couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time. Nope. This time it was all her.

“We can. He’ll leave in a minute if we’re quiet,” he whispered.

“And then what? We fool around for another one-night stand?” she asked, not wanting to hear the answer she already knew in her heart.

“I’d prefer many nights, myself. It’s going to be a long, stressful push to the wedding. It would be nice to have something fun to look forward to along the way.” He laughed. A pit of longing formed in her chest.