“Okay, you agreed to this fake fiancée crap, and this is your chance to get in with Tate & Cane.” Flouncing onto the couch, she props her feet on the coffee table. “You’re not actually marrying the guy. What are you really scared of?”
“I don’t know. Yesterday it seemed like a good idea, but today…I don’t know.”
“He’s not really roping you into the whole ‘till death do you part’ stuff, you know that, right?” she offers as I sit down beside her and throw my head against the back of the couch. “Besides, he sounds like a hot guy with a good job. How bad can he be? The man just wants to get your stories straight, and from the sound of it, you need to get laid more than you need to worry about the consequences of what you’ve already agreed to.” Grabbing the remote control, she turns on the television and effectively ends our conversation by pressing the volume button until I can barely hear myself think.
With my phone in my hand, I think about what she said and it starts to make sense. What exactly do I have to lose? All I need to do is get to know the guy and lie to my future employers that I’m head over heels in love with him.
Piece of cake.
Besides, if there’s a little side action along the way, that’s just a bonus.
As some talk show rambles on at a decibel about to shatter my eardrum, I text Niall back and hold my breath as I hit send.
Me: No kids—no fiancée. What kind of woman do you think I am? You think you can just put a ring on my finger and I’m that easy? Oh, wait. That’s right. You didn’t. Meet me at Heckscher again at noon.
Niall: I don’t know;areyou that easy? Might be fun finding out for myself. Keep up that smart mouth and you can forget about a honeymoon to Mexico. Oh, and since we’re throwing out demands, make it near the island at Turtle Pond at one p.m. Love, your Darling Big Dick Fiancé. Did you program that shite in like I told you to?
I let out a scream and throw my phone across the room, because although I’m pissed at him, I know for a fact that I’ll be there promptly at 12:55.
***
With Preston in tow, I show up at 12:45, hoping to scope out a spot and watch him as he arrives. The area of Turtle Pond he selected is a bit secluded, and it makes me wonder if he chose this location for the ease of hauling me off in the van I still imagined him having.
I mean, let’s be honest…I don’t know the guy. If I’m getting myself into this farce, I need to know exactly what kind of man I’m tangling myself up with. It’s purely an information-gathering venture and has nothing to do with wanting to watch the way his muscular body moves with the ease of a man who knows his worth, or the way his mouth quirks up in a crooked smile every time he mentions the word fiancée. And it’s especially not the way his sexy Irish accent just rolls off his tongue.
Shading my eyes from the sun, I glance around, but not seeing him anywhere, I decide to get comfortable while I wait. Completely focused on spreading out the quilt so Preston can play with the action figures he insisted on bringing, I don’t hear him sneak up behind me.
“Daydreaming again? I wouldn’t make a habit of that in public places, Laken. Anyone can just walk up and take advantage of you.”
Jumping, I let out a yelp and twist around, falling on my ass. I know I have that guilty look in my eyes. You know, the one just like when your roommate knocks on your door seconds before you turn off your Magic Wand vibrator? Oh, that shit happened to me late last night after having a particularly animated and detailed dream about Niall. I tried to mask the chainsaw sound, but it’s kind of hard to do when you have the most archaic vibrator from 1972 burning your clit off. Okay, honestly, this thing isn’t even a real vibrator and probably needs to be retired, but I’m not one to just walk my ass into a sex toy store and peruse the aisles like I’m buying fertilizer at Walmart. However, after Shelby narrowed her eyes this morning and asked me if I’d successfully chiseled my way to China, maybe I’ll do some online shopping and see what I can find.
Muscles twitch in my jaw as I stare up at him. “Present company included?”
He grins and heaves a long sigh as he extends an arm and hands me one of two half-melted chocolate ice cream cups. “Again, we need to work on your pretending to like me, Laken. This woman we’re trying to convince is going to see straight through you if you don’t up your skills.”
“Chocolate?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow.
“Just keep licking.” His grin widens with the blatant innuendo. “You’ll learn to appreciate the taste.” The wind picks up, blowing through his messy hair. He absentmindedly runs his fingers through it and offers me his hand.
Holy fuck.
Okay, time out for a minute. Back to my rom com fetish. There’s a point in the movie where the heroine suddenly sees the hero and a burst of sunlight erupts from the back of her head while cheesy-ass music starts playing in the background. This is the viewer’s clue that this poor dumb girl has finally realized that the geeky guy she’s been palling around with for half her life isn’t so geeky. He’s got muscles on top of rippling muscles and a ten-inch cock that seems to have grown overnight.
You feel me?
Well, I’ve only known Niall Mackay a day and a half, but cue the cymbals and drums because even though I have no business gawking at him the way I am, he just looks too delicious not to fully appreciate. Dressed in khaki cargo shorts, a white graphic t-shirt with what I assume to be some intricate Irish crest on the front, and tan boat shoes, the whole outfit seems casual yet somehow hotter than if he sported a three-piece suit with a designer power tie.
And this is the moment I realize how much trouble I’m in with this so-called arrangement of ours. While I’ve prided myself for six years on being able to keep my eye on the prize and maintain a strategy of not getting hung up on any guy longer than it takes to sneak out of his bed in the middle of the night, Niall Mackay is blowing said strategy all to hell.
I accept his hand, and as Sophie and Preston make their way to the water’s edge, Niall lifts a paper bag, smirking at my less than enthused expression. “Are you ready for some intense family bonding?”
“Is this where you break out the chloroform and we find one of our very own to kidnap?”
“You’re never going to let that one go, are you? No, I thought we could have some fun with the kids and race some paper boats while we go over some points that might come up at the gala. You do remember the whole reason for our hanging out, right?”
“Of course, I do,” I snap, trying as best as I can not to concentrate on the way his forearms ripple as he grips the handle of the bag. “Paper boats?”
“Wow, you really are a city girl, aren’t you?” He grins, pinning me with the sexiest smile I’ve ever laid eyes on. When I continue to stare at him in thatget to the pointway, he pulls out a shitload of newspaper, duct tape, and a handful of different colored Sharpies and points toward the water. “I’ll handle the construction, you man the decorating station. We’re going to make paper boats out of this shite and race them in the water.”
