“There’s cologne there, too.”
That stopped her for a minute. “Okay.” Shannyn nodded once, clearly deciding to confess something. Ty was more than ready to listen. “When Cole moved out, there were three things I missed about living with a man.”
Cole.
“Just three?” Ty felt about forty thousand times better than he had just minutes before. He had to tease her. “Can I guess what one was?”
“You can but you’d be wrong.” She held up a finger. “His razor. I had no idea razors for men were so much better until I borrowed his one day. Sharper, cheaper, lasting longer. It’s pink tax and it’s outrageous.”
“But it wasn’t that expensive to buy a razor.”
“Infinitely better than keeping Cole,” she agreed, then held up a second finger. Her eyes narrowed a little. “You’re going to think this one’s goofy.”
Ty was intrigued by the way she blushed. “Maybe not. You’ll have to tell me to find out.”
She took a deep breath and looked up and down the street before she spoke, as if she’d be confessing a state secret. Ty was officially intrigued. “Cole used to go to work early, so he used the bathroom first. I always loved stepping in there when it was still steamy from his shower. There was the smell of man, clean man, and cologne...” She closed her eyes and had a full body shiver as Ty watched, looking so rapturous that the sight sent a stab of desire right through him. She sighed and flicked one of those sparkling glances at him. “Trust me. It’s a really good way to start the day.”
“Your ex used the same cologne as me?”
“No.” She was dismissive of the idea. “He used something cheaper. Yours is so much better.” She smiled at Ty. “So when I walked into your bathroom a week ago, I realized there was an easy way to replicate that guilty pleasure.”
“You bought a bottle.”
She nodded with satisfaction. “To start my days off right.”
Ty could live with that. She’d bought his cologne, after all. “What’s the third thing you missed?”
To his surprise, Shannyn blushed crimson. “I’m not going to tell you that.”
Ty’s mind headed straight for the gutter and he was the one who had to avert his gaze. He tried to return to the topic at hand. “You and Aidan don’t look related.”
“Because we’re both adopted. We’re not biologically related, but trust me, we know enough about each other that there’s no chance of anything else happening. He’s my brother.” Her tone made it clear that anything more than filial affection was out of the question.
Ty understood that sentiment only too well.
Shannyn was watching him, a teasing glint in her eyes. Her expectant expression made his heart skip.
He’d missed her so much.
“You’re not seeing anyone else,” he said, watching her vehemently shake her head.
“No! You big dope,” she said, as if he was her brother and Ty was tempted to toss her over his own shoulder and tickle her until she begged for mercy.
No, he wanted them to be naked when he did that. For the first time in recent memory, Ty wanted a second night with a woman.
This one.
Maybe a third and a fourth night, too.
“You should have just asked,” she chided.
“I couldn’t do that, not in front of Derek, and not even in front of Aidan.”
She pointed at his phone.
“Works both ways,” he reminded her.
“As I’ve just proved. But worst of all, because you jumped to a conclusion, I was left dreaming of tapas Saturday night. Starving.” She gave an elaborate sigh. “With only the task of polishing teak furniture in solitude to console me.”
“Aidan?”
“Went out for beer and came back at two.”
“That is not my fault. You never agreed to have dinner with me.”
Those eyes danced. “If I had said yes instead of maybe, would you still have left?”
Ty had to tease her back. “You’ll never know now, will you?”
“You are an infuriating man.”
“Trust me. I have a lot to learn about being infuriating.”
Shannyn flung out her hands. “What difference would it have made to go for dinner together, even if Aidan wasn’t my brother? We have a deal, a rational exchange based on no emotional engagement whatsoever. Right?”
“It’s the principle.”
“Aidan said you would say that!”
Ty had a newfound respect for her brother. “Why is that incomprehensible?”
“I don’t see why principle matters when it comes to fake dates. I mean, the fake date in and of itself is a kind of a lie.”
“No cheating,” Ty said firmly. “Period. It’s non-negotiable, no matter what the situation. And if you were seeing someone, even if he was in Tashkent, being with me would be cheating. It’s just wrong.”
“I wish you’d tell me how you really feel about it,” she teased and then studied him. “You’re serious.”
“Absolutely. It’s a deal-breaker.”
“Which is why you left.”
He nodded, then realized Shannyn apparently didn’t agree with him. “Don’t you agree?”
“In real life, sure. If we were dating, married or otherwise involved, I’d totally agree.” She shrugged. “But we have a fake date. That’s it.”
He fixed her with a look. “Tuesday night was more than a fake date.”
“Mutual satisfaction then. It doesn’t mean we’re opening a joint checking account.”
How interesting that she chose a money metaphor instead of a more emotional one, like selecting a wedding venue or picking baby names.
There was still a lot about Shannyn he didn’t understand.
And he wanted to know, more than anything.
“You left Tuesday when Giselle arrived, because you thought I was seeing her,” he reminded her.
“No. I thought and still think that three’s a crowd,” she insisted. “That’s about logistics not principles. I mean, how do people manage threesomes? It seems as if there’d be too many legs.” She frowned. “Maybe not too many hands.”
Ty had no answer for that. He suddenly realized he’d been standing and talking instead of getting to work. “I’m sorry but I have to get going. I’m late for our weekly meeting.”
“My fault?”
“Of course not. I chose to stop and talk to you, and I’m glad I did. The fault is all mine.”
“That sounds gracious.”
“It’s just true. Don’t let anyone ever blame you for their own choices.”
“Good plan,” she said, averting her gaze as if he’d hit a nerve. Ty wondered what it was. “I can catch my train near the club, too.” She hefted the suitcase again with a grimace.
Ty swung his briefcase into his other hand and took the suitcase from her, involuntarily giving a little grunt at its unexpected weight. Shannyn laughed.
“What is this?” He set a quick pace but she kept up, taking three steps for every two of his. She made it look like dancing and he was glad that she was happy. Just like on Saturday, her attitude made him want to smile.
“A Bernina Record.” Her satisfaction was undisguised. “Pristine, too.”
Ty eyed her warily. “Should I know what that is?”
“A sewing machine. A portable one.”
“If you use the term loosely.” It was only reasonable to be pleased when she laughed at his joke. “Was it abandoned at the curb?”
“No, of course not. Do you know how great the thrift shops are on East 23rd? Someone didn’t know what they were doing. It was only twenty bucks, perfect working order and all the accessories.”
She could have been speaking Greek for all that Ty understood of that. He did recognize that she was thrilled, though, and helping her with her prize made him feel good. Again. “How do you know it’s working perfectly?”
“Oh, they let you test the electrical stuff. My mom has been wanting another one of these, so I said I
’d watch for one. They go for over a thousand bucks on eBay.”
Ty was startled. “For an old sewing machine?”
“It’s a good one. I don’t think anyone ever used it. Like maybe it was a wedding gift, stashed away in a closet, until after the funeral when it was chucked out.”
“A wedding gift?”
“It was really common in the fifties. Every wife needed one, according to popular logic, but some women never used them.”
“But they couldn’t chuck them out because they were wedding gifts.” Ty nodded. “My mom has cut crystal bowls that she never uses but will have forever.”
“And in the end, the perfect sewing machines nestle up beside the cut crystal bowls, still in their boxes, all in a line at the thrift store.”
“To your delight.”
“I don’t want the crystal bowls, but someone must.”
“But doesn’t your mom live north of Boston?”
“You remembered!”
Her expectations from male company were pretty low, Ty thought. “How does this boat anchor get from here to there?”
“Aidan’ll take it to her or maybe me, whenever I take the train home. The important thing is that I have it.”
“I’m beginning to see the appeal of a large vehicle.”
Shannyn laughed. “But you don’t have to drive me home. That’s not why I came looking for you.”
“You’re going to take this on the subway?”
“Well, duh.”
“It weighs a ton.”
“I don’t have to hold it in my lap. I’ll put it down once I’m on the train.”
“That’s a lot of trouble for a sewing machine.”
“I’d walk through fire for my mom,” Shannyn said with a fervor that took him by surprise. “Taking a sewing machine home on the train is nothing.” She flicked a glance his way that was filled with resolve. “Nothing at all.”
Her tone only gave Ty more questions. They stopped outside Flatiron Five Fitness and he put the machine back down at her feet. “I would give you a ride,” he said. “But I have this meeting.”
She smiled up at him. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
“Absolutely. I was the one who jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry I left.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Aidan. It really never occurred to me.” Their gazes locked and held, and the world had an infinitely higher measure of promise than when Ty had left work. Shannyn’s next words undermined that. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
“You sold the furniture already?”
She frowned. “No. Epic fail on that plan.”
“How so?”
“I was so sure that one of three excellent candidates would buy the furniture, but no.” She counted them off. “One is broke. One is moving in with a new partner who already has furniture and, if you can imagine the nerve, is disinclined to chuck out his stuff in favor of this fabulous score.”
Ty chuckled at her expression of incomprehension.
“And the third just bought new furniture. Brand new! All my preconceptions have been shattered.” Her brow furrowed, which made her look determined and adorable. It was tempting to not solve the problem, just to watch her take on the world—but that wasn’t Ty’s style. “I’ll find someone, though. It’ll just take a bit longer. There will be a roof in my near future.”
“Sounds like you might need me, after all.”
She looked up at him, wariness in her gaze. “Need is a strong word, Mr. McKay.”
Ty held up his phone. “You need me. You need this.”
“I have a phone.”
“It’s not the phone. It’s the message.” He scrolled through them to Paige’s latest, then turned the phone for Shannyn to read it. “Exhibit A. This is the seventh message from my sister, Princess Paige, since Derek’s return home on Saturday. It’s only distinguished from the earlier ones by the increasing air of desperation.” He handed the phone to Shannyn.
“That makes it Exhibit G,” she said but took his phone. Ty enjoyed watching her eyes widen as she read the message. She scrolled back and read it again before meeting his gaze. “She wants the furniture!”
“Yes.” He sighed with mock regret. “She’s used to getting what she wants.”
“She wants to have Derek trade half the price of my roof for it!” Shannyn’s expression was so delighted that Ty grinned. “I should call her...”
“No! Let her wait for it.”
“You just don’t like that she gets what she wants.” She rolled her eyes. “Princess Paige. I’d smack Aidan if he ever called me anything like that.”
“Because you wouldn’t deserve it. I think it won’t hurt her to wait.”
She eyed him. “And you have a plan.”
“Come to the bridal shower with me next Sunday and make your deal there. The terms might get better by then.”
“Diabolical,” she whispered but she was fighting a smile. “Dinner and a bridal shower.” Her eyes were dancing, so Ty couldn’t take offense. “Does that neat little solution give you joy? Not only do you solve my roof issue in exchange for dinner, but you also negotiate my attendance at a family function.”
“I do like it.” He had to admit as much. “It’s elegant.”
“And so there will be dinner, practice and studying, in order to make sure that we ace the shower appearance.” She didn’t look as if she thought that was a bad thing. “But not tonight. You have your meeting.”
“And I’m late. Tomorrow?” He pointed back the way they’d come. “There’s a great Italian restaurant right down that next street on the right.”
“Of course. This is Manhattan. There’s a great Italian restaurant right down every street, usually on both the left and the right.”
“I like this one.” He told her the name of it. “I’ll make a reservation for seven and send you the link.”
“Sounds good.” Then she turned and smiled at him, the warmth in her eyes making everything worthwhile. “Thank you, Tyler.”
“Why does that feel like too easy of a victory?” he asked and she laughed again.
“I like talking to you, Tyler McKay, and not just because you helped me get my furniture home. Not just because you’re a sharp-dressed man, either.” She stepped closer, then stretched up to whisper, her proximity making everything tighten within him. “And certainly not just because you took it as a personal challenge to make me scream in bed and succeeded.”
“Why then?” he murmured, wondering what she’d say this time.
She wrinkled her nose. “I just like throwing your game. It’s unexpectedly satisfying.”
“Well, you really nailed that on Saturday.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t get used to it. There is no slippery slope with this fake date.” With a cheerful smile and a wave, she hefted her sewing machine and headed for the train. Ty stood watching her go, even though he was late, feeling both better and a little worse.
Then he shook his head and continued into the club, amazed by the influence one woman had over him in just a week.
Eleven
There was no doubt that Tyler McKay liked fixing things, but Shannyn was surprised by how much she liked having him fix things for her. She’d always solved her own problems, especially since the divorce, and took particular pride in her independence since Cole had left. It was easier to have a little help, though. Tyler made it look so effortless, and yet, his solutions weren’t quick or sloppy. They were adjusted and calculated to fit perfectly.
Curated, even.
There was a measure of confidence in it that was alien to Shannyn. She wondered if he had ever wanted anything he couldn’t have. Maybe Princess Paige wasn’t alone in her expectations.
Maybe some people were just born lucky.
Shannyn wouldn’t know about that.
She thought about him all the way home on the subway, wishing she’d thought to take a picture of his astonished reaction. She’d bet he wasn’t surprised very often. W
hen she was carrying her prize the last few endless blocks home, she wondered about the wisdom of her own insistence on taking the machine home on the train.
Dinner. A bridal shower. The slippery slope was real—especially as she liked spending time with him so much. Even if he had taken it as a challenge to prove to her that he was nice, she didn’t have to tell him he’d already succeeded. She’d save that for the wedding and—mission accomplished—he’d vanish right on cue. In the meantime, surely Shannyn could be smart enough to just enjoy herself and not develop romantic expectations? She was supposed to be living in the moment now and savoring opportunity. This was a good one.
Maybe she should challenge herself. Ha.
Maybe she should take a lesson from the success of teamwork with Tyler and reach out for more. Not from him—she’d ask Kirsten for advice about him.
Shannyn texted Kirsten and they set up a time later that evening for a long chat. She fed Fitzwilliam, listened to his comments on his day and polished the furniture a little more while her leftovers heated up. Maybe she’d cook on Friday. The Met had paid her bill already, which was a total bonus, and she was in a good mood by the time Kirsten called.
She didn’t hold back. She told Kirsten everything and answered all her questions, then waited for the verdict.
“Wow,” Kirsten said. “Your old dream come true.”
“Kind of. But it’s not a real relationship.”
Kirsten laughed. “Even though it’s starting to sound like one.”
“It’s just convenient.”
“And that’s why you’re inviting him to be your date at our wedding.”
“No, I’m not. I’ll be busy taking your wedding photos.”
“He sounds like he’d survive on his own.”
“I’m not inviting him.”
“It would be interesting to see you two together.”
“Kirsten! You’re supposed to be helping.”
“Okay. The one thing you two have in common is that you don’t want more than a fake date.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“And the one thing you think is most important is that he doesn’t find out that you’re falling.”
“He could use it against me.”
Just One Fake Date: A Contemporary Romance (Flatiron Five Fitness Book 1) Page 19