The Wedding Hoax (8 page)

She hadn’t. Tonya stood with her arms crossed, her head tilted and an expression of mockery on her face. “Care to tell me the truth at some point?” she asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the real reason why you’re suddenly so eager to get back together with the one guy who left you crushed last year.”

Daisy sighed and perched on the edge of her workbench stool. “I really wish you’d trust me.”

Tonya sat on the stool next to her. “Ditto.”

“I do trust you,” Daisy said. “In fact, I trust you so much, I’d love to make you boutique manager. I’ll even give you a raise and everything.”

Tonya grinned. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “You’ve been doing the job all along anyway, but now I have the means to make it official with a title and salary to match. What do you say?”

Tonya came around the table and squeezed Daisy so tight she couldn’t breathe. “I say hell yes! I was going to find a cheaper preschool for Molly, but now I don’t have to.”

Daisy hugged her friend back. Things had been so hard for Tonya since her husband Dale had passed away two years ago. She knew Tonya struggled to stay afloat with bills, her job, and caring for her four-year-old daughter. Now she would be able to breathe a little easier, just like Daisy. Well, once Tonya released her from the vise grip she was currently in.

“Any chance you’ll stop crushing my ribs so I can breathe again?” she asked.

“Only if you promise to tell me what’s really going on, because I know there’s more to this story. As your manager, I should really know the whole sordid tale so I can run your boutique effectively.”

She sighed, knowing Tonya had her. “That’s why you’re perfect for this job.” It would be nice to have someone, besides Cole, to talk to about everything. And if she couldn’t trust Tonya, then who could she trust? “You have to swear to never tell a soul.”

“I swear it,” Tonya said.

“The engagement was part of the investment deal. Cole and I have to pretend to be engaged, go to these stupid bridal shows, and have a fake wedding. We don’t get the full amount until we walk down the aisle and pretend to say our vows.”

“Wow.” Tonya looked off into nothingness for a few minutes. “This explains a lot.”

“It does?”

“While you were dress shopping, I didn’t understand why you didn’t grab your dress from the back and be done with it already. And when Cole brought it out to the showroom, you could have castrated him with your sneer.”

“I’ll wear that dress for my real wedding one day, not some trumped-up spectacle.” She glanced to the simple ivory gown hanging on a mannequin in a corner of the workroom—the one he had tried, unsuccessfully, to get her to try on. It was understated, elegant, and absolutely the dress of her dreams. The fitted bodice had almost all of the subtle beading details completed, but otherwise the rest of it was perfect. Perfect enough for her
real
wedding someday, but not her fake wedding to Cole.

Tonya nodded, the truth obviously settling in. “I couldn’t figure out what was going on between you. One minute you’d look at each other like you hated one another, then the next there’d be so much intensity and chemistry brewing I was worried you were going to get busy right there on the showroom floor.”

“We weren’t that bad,” she scoffed.

“Oh yes, you were. I just didn’t realize why until now.” Tonya grinned. “You got engaged for the investment, but you still have feelings for him. You liked getting into those wedding gowns for him, and you’re going to like getting married to him, too.”

“Fake married. And no, I’m not. I don’t have feelings for Cole. This is strictly business.”

“Sure it is.” Tonya rolled her eyes.

“It is. The only reason I agreed to any of this is for my design house. And I’m only going along with it because if I don’t, then I get nothing from Mason.”

Tonya cocked an eyebrow at her. “So tell me. Did you shave your legs for this
business
trip to Chicago?”

“Yes.”

Tonya smirked. “I told you. You have feelings for him.”

“What does shaving my legs have to do with Cole?” Nothing Tonya said made sense right now.

“You wouldn’t have shaved your legs if you had no intention of sleeping with Cole this weekend. Are you guys sharing a room? You must be. You’re engaged.” Tonya laughed. “You’re so getting laid this weekend.”

“Tonya!” Daisy shrieked. “I am not. And that’s not why I shaved my legs. I shaved them because I’m a girl, and that’s what girls do.”

“That’s exactly what they do…when they plan on getting lucky.”

The boutique phone rang, saving Daisy from any more embarrassment. “Can you grab that while I finish up? I have to leave for the airport soon.”

Daisy slumped in her seat, happy to have survived the firing squad. Tonya was wrong about her feelings for Cole. She didn’t have feelings for him again. Not really. At least not any she planned on giving in to. And she certainly hadn’t shaved her legs so she could get busy with Cole this weekend.

Of course, now that Daisy thought about it, she’d only packed pants to wear at the bridal show, not a single skirt. And while the hotel technically had a pool, she didn’t plan on using it. However, she’d packed a swimsuit just in case. But not her sensible one-piece swimsuit. Nope. She’d packed the tiniest bikini she owned. That bikini was the reason she’d shaved her legs…in case of emergency swimming and sunbathing. Yep. Her silky-smooth legs had absolutely nothing to do with Cole.

Maybe she’d magically grow leg hair back in the next few hours as abstinence insurance.

Chapter Nine

Cole rubbed his hands across his face, frustrated at his overcharged emotions concerning Daisy. It wasn’t like he wanted to be with her again in a real relationship. Sure flirting, and where it could lead to, would be enjoyable. But sleeping together would only complicate things more between them. And he had promised not to put the moves on her.

The flight to Chicago had been a test of his willpower every time their elbows touched, when the scent of her perfume cut through the stagnant, recirculated air, and especially when sudden turbulence had caused her to grab his thigh.

As if his thoughts could summon her, Daisy strode into the shared living room that separated their bedrooms. Mason had booked them a suite to share for the weekend during the bridal show since they were supposed to be engaged, but this arrangement made it even harder to stay away from her.

Especially when she wore a tank top and shorts to bed.

She paused for a moment on her way into the room, as if she was surprised to see him on the couch. “Hey. I’m just grabbing a bottle of water, and then I’ll be out of your way.”

“You’re not in the way. This is your hotel room, too.”

As she bent over to grab a bottle of water from the bottom shelf of the mini-fridge, he couldn’t help but notice the edge of her shorts creeping up the back of her thighs. He knew he shouldn’t take in the scenery, but he did anyway. There was no denying his attraction to Daisy was just as strong, possibly stronger, now as it was back when they’d dated.

When they’d dated, he could have stroked the patch of skin on the back of her thigh if he’d wanted to. In fact he had, on many occasions, enjoyed initiating casual foreplay with her, especially when she played hard to get. Instead, tonight he was relegated to watching her from the couch. No wonder he ached for her. “Look but don’t touch” had never been his motto.

She stood quickly and turned to face him. His gaze traveled up the length of her body slowly, deliberately taking her all in. Damn. He got stuck at the two mounds of soft flesh hiding under her top. The tank must be doing little to keep her warm since two beaded jewels were visible beneath the thin material. Either that, or she felt a similar stirring of desire for him as he felt for her.

She crossed her arms, blocking his view, and he finally met her gaze. He smirked at the look of indignation on her face because of his careful examination of her.

“You don’t have an ounce of self-control, do you?” she asked, her voice clipped.

“Not when I like what I see.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You make me impossible by walking around in an outfit like that.”

She rolled her eyes.

That’s one.
It wasn’t just her good looks that turned him on. Her feisty personality always sparked his interest, too. Even now when she acted like she hated his attention, he knew otherwise. The hint of pink in her cheeks, the way she bit her bottom lip, the shift of her hips as she narrowed her eyes at him defiantly—all of it gave away her real feelings. Maybe someone who didn’t know her as well as he did wouldn’t pick up on it, but he could read her tells like a champion poker player. She gave it all away.

“They’re called pajamas. Are you familiar with them?” She started back toward her bedroom.

“No. I don’t wear them. I prefer to sleep naked.”

He chuckled when she stumbled over an invisible mark in the carpet. He might be on his best behavior to leave her alone, at her request, but she certainly wasn’t helping him stick to it. And if her reaction to him tonight was any indication, she wasn’t having a very easy time with their agreement, either.

Sharing a suite with Daisy this weekend would either be really interesting or really long and frustrating.

…

Cole said good-bye to another bride as she wandered away with a free copy of
Exclusively Yours
in her hand. He currently rode a high from selling hundreds of subscriptions to new brides and couldn’t believe he still had a second day of the show tomorrow, which would mean even more subscribers. He texted the board members back in New York to let them know the great news.

Soon, he’d be able to look his father in the eyes with complete confidence when asked how the magazine was doing.

Beside him, Daisy went through the steps of designing a custom gown for another bride. She’d said the same thing so many times, he could practically recite it back to a bride himself. And yet, every time she answered a new bride, it was done without hesitation and always with genuine happiness. He could only imagine what it would be like to see her actually constructing a gown.

Daisy peered up and caught him staring at her. Again. He couldn’t help it. When he didn’t have someone at his booth, his gaze was drawn to her and whatever she happened to be doing. She smiled. It was the same smile she’d been giving him all day. The one that said, “Hey. I’m feeling sort of flirty but a lot hesitant. And I think you’re hunky.”

He didn’t know if those were her exact thoughts, but he certainly liked thinking they might be. And that made him want to be with her even more. Thank God they’d been too busy all day for him to focus too much on the feelings he was trying to suppress.

Before he could think about Daisy anymore, another cluster of brides flocked to his table and he launched into his pitch about the magazine. By the time he’d given them each a free copy of the magazine with their new subscriptions, the bridal show was over for the day.

“That went by fast, didn’t it?” Daisy asked, gathering up pamphlets and papers from her booth and stashing them away. “Tomorrow will go by even faster since we have the wedding-dress runway show.” She rubbed her lower back, groaning softly. The sound set his instincts on high alert.

“You okay?” he asked, desperately ignoring what her groan had just reminded him of.

“My back aches from standing all day, but I’m sure it will be fine once I’m off my feet for a bit.” She looked around her now tidy booth area. “And I think that’s going to be as soon as I wander back to our room.”

He liked the sound of that more than he should. “Why don’t we go to the bar and grab a drink and dinner?”

He waited for her to answer, suddenly nervous she would turn him down. Normally he would jump at the chance to chat up some lonely, beautiful single woman at a hotel bar, but tonight the thought didn’t interest him. It felt weird to have been with Daisy all day and yet they’d hardly spoken. If he had dinner with anyone tonight, he wanted it to be with her.

She grabbed her purse and glanced over her shoulder at him. He guessed she was probably trying to decide if it was safe to have dinner with him or if he was going to try to put the moves on her. As much as he’d like to feel her lips on his, he wasn’t about to pursue it. He’d promised he wouldn’t kiss her, and regardless that his instincts told him she might not be adverse to a kiss, he planned to keep his word.

“Just dinner and a drink as friends to relax after a long day,” he said. “Nothing more.”

“Nothing?”

“Nope. Well…” He let his voice drift off and raised an eyebrow at her. He knew exactly where her mind would go. The same place his had been all damn day, but he couldn’t resist teasing her to get a reaction.

She sighed. “I knew it. You have something else in mind, too. I’ll be perfectly clear. If I go, it’s strictly for dinner and drinks and that’s all. Got it? No long, lingering looks. No touching. Definitely no kissing.”

He smiled. “Got it. I was going to say we deserve to indulge in dessert, too, but I guess I’ll eat that alone.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly annoyed. “Very funny.”

“I don’t know why your mind went to all those other places.” He teased. “You must be tarnishing my good intentions with your own scandalous desires.”

“You wish. I know where your mind usually goes. And I think it’s there now. You’re denying it so you don’t get caught.”

He shrugged, not giving into her accusations. “I know how you hate everything cheesecake, so I’ll be your hero and eat it for you. I’d hate for you to suffer.”

“Shut it. You know I love cheesecake. I’m starving, and the sooner we get to dinner, the sooner we can be done and I can go to bed.”

An image of falling into bed with her, naked, ripped through his mind, shooting fire through his veins. Cheesecake seemed excessive at the thought of having Daisy for dessert. He could already taste her sweet skin on his tongue, feel her silky hair tangling between his fingers, feel her warm heat surrounding him as he plunged deep. He crushed the thought as quickly as he could, but not before the ache in his groin pulsed with need.

Not happening. Think of something else.

“Alone,” she added as an afterthought, or possibly a warning, as she wandered off toward to bank of elevators.

She doesn’t want me anyway. I’ll take a long, cold shower after dinner and either get over it or take care of business myself. Taking matters into my own hands is all the action I’m getting for the foreseeable future.

They rode the elevator in silence up to the top floor of the hotel to the restaurant and bar. When the elevator doors opened, he pressed his hand to her lower back, signaling for her to go ahead of him. A feeling of familiarity washed over him at the gesture. It was something he’d done so many times it felt completely natural. Yet he was supposed to be keeping a reasonable distance. The only thing touching her succeeded in doing was making him want to touch her more.

He relaxed slightly when she chose seats at the bar instead of heading into the very darkly lit restaurant, with its cozy, high-backed, intimate-looking booths. The last thing he needed was to be tucked away in a dark corner alone with her. Add in a little alcohol, and he’d be sure to make a few moves tonight that he might regret tomorrow. The bar definitely offered more safety.

“This okay?” she asked.

“Perfect.” He slid onto the bar stool and waved at the bartender. “Still drinking margaritas?”

“Is there any other kind of alcohol?” she asked.

“Yes, actually. There are a lot of nongirlie drinks available for the rest of us.” He ordered her drink and a rum and Coke for himself, then glanced at the menu.

She took a sip of her strawberry margarita when it arrived and sighed happily. He had to admit, it did look delicious. He recalled the many occasions he’d tasted tequila and strawberry on her tongue. He chanced a peek at her lips while she took another sip. They were rosy and plump and still had a hint of shine on them from her lip gloss. Her tongue darted out quickly, licking the extra slush from her lips. A spike of desire shot through him again.

The way his body reacted to Daisy after only a few weeks annoyed him. What would he be like after a few months? A walking erection?

She held her glass out toward him. “Want a sip? You’re looking at it like someone dying of thirst. It’s okay to like a girlie drink.”

He didn’t like her girlie drink. He liked the girl holding the drink.

Damn it.

She wasn’t even flirting with him, or acting like she wanted him. She was dressed very conservatively in black pants and a pink top. Even her hair was tucked back into a knot at the nape of her neck.

And yet he couldn’t stop staring at her like she was naked and flirting as if her life depended on it. What was she doing to him? Why the hell was he so goddamn attracted to her lately? Just the fact that she wore a ring on her finger representing his commitment should be enough to leave him limp for all eternity. But here he was, fighting a semi every time she so much as smiled at him.

“I won’t hold it against you if you admit to liking it.” She laughed and set her glass down on the bar.

He could think of a few things he might like her to hold against him right now, and an icy drink wasn’t one of them.

He took another big gulp of his drink. The rum settled in his empty stomach, calming the nerves he felt building. Dinner and drinks were supposed to relax him, but they appeared to be having the opposite effect. And he could only think of one reason for that.

Daisy.

He sighed.

“You okay?” she asked, turning on her bar stool so she faced him directly. She put her hand on his shoulder and massaged her fingers into his tight muscle. “You seem tense.”

“I’m fine.” He resisted the urge to shrug off her hand. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her touching him. It was that he
did
want her touching him. Everywhere. He wanted her to undress him one button at time. He wanted her hands on his chest, his thighs…on the rod of heat growing bigger with every stroke of her fingers on his shoulder.

And that was bad. Bad for the desire he felt building in his gut and bad for the promise he made to her to keep his dick in his pants.

Stupid promise.

He knew better than to make promises he wasn’t sure he could keep, but it had been the only way to keep her onboard with their plan. And after the success of today, he knew this discomfort he felt right now was worth it.

“Doesn’t seem like the drinks are helping you relax. Maybe we need another.” She motioned for the bartender to bring them each another. If he didn’t slow down, he wouldn’t be able to think clearly soon, and being cloudy-headed around her was probably a terrible idea.

“I guess I’m a little more worn-out from the day than I realized.”

“It was a long day. Luckily tomorrow will be shorter, since it’s only a few hours in the afternoon and not all day.” Daisy traded her empty glass for a new margarita and took a sip. “It was a really fun day. I can’t believe how much interest there was in my dresses.”

He smiled at her enthusiasm. It felt good to be on the receiving end of her attention and excitement for a change. “You were amazing today. I hate to admit it, but I never really got your job before. But I loved seeing you so inspired and excited by these brides. I can only guess what it’s like to see you working on an actual gown, constructing it, bringing your design to life.”

“Thank you.” She beamed. “You were pretty awesome yourself. I can’t believe how many people walked away from your booth with magazines in their hand. I always knew you’d make the magazine a success.”