by Flite, Nora
He'd beaten me to the restaurant—I saw him sitting at a booth in the back, his attention on the drink in his hand. He looked as good as he had on Friday night. Dark jeans, polished boots, and a tight-in-the-right-spots half-sleeve black shirt.
“Can I help you?” the host—a young blonde woman—asked me.
I pointed. “I'm meeting with him.”
She followed my gesture, then whistled. “Don't let me keep you, go ahead.”
Her reaction sent a small spark of pride through my blood. Conner was undeniably handsome. Knowing he was here for me made me swell with way too many gushy feelings. I had to focus. This was business.
When I neared his booth, he lifted his head, gracing me with a toothy smile. I didn't know what he did for work, but if he wasn't performing in teeth whitening commercials, he was wasting his talent. “I hope you didn't wait long,” I said. “I'm usually the early one.”
“After you beat me to the bar last time, I thought I'd try my hand at being first.” He winked, then stood up, waiting for me to sit.
“Such a gentleman,” I teased, settling onto the soft red cushion. “How are you doing?”
“Better now.”
I blushed, unsure how to make small talk. Everything we had to discuss was either sexual, or just awkward. I'd thought this would be easier than it was turning out to be. To my relief, the waiter approached us with a pad of paper in hand. “Hey there! Welcome to Stony's! Can I get you two something to drink?”
“Another whiskey, neat,” Conner said, tilting his glass.
“I'll have the same. Top shelf, please.”
“Could I see some ID?” the waiter asked politely. I whipped my license out of my purse, handing it over. “Perfect. I'll be right back with your drinks.”
Conner nodded at my ID as I tucked it away. “You found it.”
“Sort of. Someone else did, they returned it to me.”
“Huh. Most people would chuck it in the trash, or use it for petty fraud. Lucky you, landing the nice citizen.”
I pursed my lips tightly. “I wouldn't call him nice.” Realizing what I'd said, I looked across at Conner sheepishly. “It was my ex-boyfriend that found it and brought it back to me.”
Conner hunched closer, eyes narrowing. “A not so nice ex-boyfriend?” I nodded slowly. “How bad are we talking?”
“I really don't want to go into it.”
“Good,” he chuckled. “It makes me feel better that you don't. I have a jealous bone or two.”
His smile was contagious. “You don't strike me as the type.”
“Would you like me to scowl at the waiter when he comes back? He was trying to look down your shirt earlier.”
Flushing, I put my hand over my chest. “My shirt isn't even low-cut.”
“If you wore a potato sack, he'd be ogling you all the same. You're beautiful, Cherry.”
I remembered that he'd called me that in the hotel. My heart jumped, but my twisting stomach swallowed it up. “That's not my real name. I wanted to tell you, but then I thought it didn't matter... if we never saw each other again.”
He let out a little dry laugh. “That's some refreshing honesty.”
I bit my lip. “Some would call it cynicism.”
“What's your real name?”
“Maya. Are you mad?”
“Only if you tell me I can't call you Cherry as a nickname.”
“I don't mind.” I shifted side to side in my seat. “Is...”
“Conner my real name?” he cut me off. “Yeah. Never occurred to me to use an alias. I get why you would, though. You're allowed to have secrets, Maya. You don't owe me anything.” He reached over the table, setting his heavy, warm hand on top of mine. My skin buzzed. “I hope you'll trust me enough eventually to share your deepest secrets, though.”
I had to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Wait until you learn why I asked to see you again before you commit to sharing anything else in my life.”
His frown broke my heart. He pulled his hand away as the waiter returned with our drinks; I took mine, downing a huge gulp. He sipped his patiently, watching me over the rim. Waiting. Expectant.
I fought for one more minute where I didn't have to ask him to do me a favor. It was a glorious minute. “Okay,” I said. “Here it goes. You know how we played out that scene on Friday?”
Sin swam in his black pupils. “I've thought about if a hundred times since.”
Jesus. My pulse started to flutter. “You were really good at the game. Really intense, fully in your role. I need that from you again.”
“I like where this chat is going.”
Here we go. Jump with both feet. “How would you feel about pretending to be engaged to me?”
The edges of his eyes crinkled, giving him crow's feet that didn't belong there. I counted the passing seconds while holding my breath. “Pretend to be your fiancé?”
Covering my eyes, I groaned. “It's so dumb. Here's the truth—my mother needs me to prove to my grandfather that I'm invested in having a family. If I don't, she'll lose her inheritance, and she really needs it if she wants to retire. And as much of a pain as she can be, she's worked hard her whole life, raised me by herself, she deserves the security that money would bring.”
“So... by me pretending that we're going to be married... your grandfather will give your mother her inheritance.”
“Yes, exactly.”
He leaned back in the booth, looking down his nose at me. I couldn't read his expression. “Of all the reasons I thought you'd ask to see me again, I never guessed this one.”
“Are you upset? You're upset. Conner, listen, forget I asked. It's stupid and weird and I shouldn't have even—”
“Wait.” He held up his hand to quiet me. “Cherry—Maya. I didn't say I wouldn't do it. But we have to take this seriously, like any other scene.” His blue eyes flashed, his tone getting serious. “I'll be your fiancé. In name, in action, in whatever I can offer. But you have to give the same effort to me. It goes both ways.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. His words were getting me hot and I couldn't figure out why. “Of course. Fully committing is the only way we'll convince anyone that we're engaged.”
“Tell me the rules.”
This was just like our night in the hotel. Knowing that sent a brand new jolt of wet pleasure into my lower belly. My skin felt buttery from my rising excitement. “I've never been engaged before. I don't know what we should do. I thought as far as asking you, and deep down, I assumed you'd say no. Conner, are you sure you want to do this with me?”
“I'm more than sure.” His breathing became raspy. “It's a turn on, isn't it? Pretending we're engaged? It means we have to stay close. Eat together, sleep together... everything. People who are going to be married should know their partner's wants, desires, their bodies, inside and out.”
I'd been clutching the edge of the table so hard my finger-tips were white. “Wow,” I said softly, shaking my hands loose. “You make it sound like you want us to move in together.”
“Yeah, we'll have to.”
I blinked. “Conner, we don't have to stay in character anytime except when we're around my mother and her family.”
“And when they ask us about how long we've been engaged, when the wedding is, what we do for fun, how we met... all that stuff... you don't think there'll be suspicion if we aren't living together?”
“Plenty of people marry before moving in together.”
“Did you live with your past exes?”
Ben's face flitted through my mind;I grimaced. “Yes. Okay, you're right. But isn't it extreme?”
His hand cupped my knee under the table, making me gasp. “You asked me to do this because of how I commit to the role. Right?”
“Right,” I whimpered, shivering as his fingers slid higher along my leg.
“Maya, I'll be the most god damn devoted fiancé on this planet for you. But let me be clear.” His arms were long enough that he had no tro
uble brushing my inner thigh. I tensed up, holding back an excited moan. “Being engaged to me means giving in to my desires, too. The woman I choose to be my wife is a certain special person. She writhes for me, begs for me, comes for me, anytime I ask. Because she wants that. Can you do that as my fianceé?”
Pushing the back of my head into the booth, I thrust my hips towards his hand. He was stroking over my pants, driving me wild. I forgot we were in a public restaurant.
“Maya?” he asked firmly.
“Yes, god, yes, I can be that for you.”
“Good.” He trailed over my zipper, then pulled his hand away. I opened my eyes, staring at his pleased grin. “There's something we need before we begin this scene.”
“What's that?”
“I'll have to pick out a ring.”
Chapter 6
Favorite Flavor
I'D NEVER GONE SHOPPING for an engagement ring.
Never mind my OWN engagement ring.
Walking beside the long glass display case, I stared at the glittering rings until my vision blurred. Being in this store was absurd. I kept glancing over at the exit, debating just making a run for it and abandoning the plan I'd made with Conner.
Five days, I reminded myself. That was all the time we had to prepare before my grandfather's party. It wasn't enough, but it would have to do.
“Well?” Conner asked, coming to stand next to me. I didn't look at him, just at his reflection in the case. “See anything you like?”
“I don't know,” I answered honestly. Wrapping my hand in his, I pulled him away from the counter—and away from the grinning, eager salesman who kept eyeing us, hovering a foot too close. “Conner, when I first agreed to meet up with you in person, I told you I didn't want a relationship.”
“I remember.”
“Going from that decision, to picking out a ring... my head is spinning.”
“It's a lot to handle,” he said. He clutched my shoulders, the weight of his hands immediately comforting me. We were rooted in the moment together. “What's your favorite color?”
“Blue,” I said automatically.
“Big diamond or little diamond?”
“Oh, Conner, no. Let's not spend a bunch of money, we can do no diamond.”
“Big. Or little. Diamond.”
Was steam coming out of my ears? “I... little, just something tiny. Minuscule.”
Chuckling warmly, he turned me to face the door. “Go get something to eat. I'll meet up with you in a minute.”
“Hold on,” I argued, grabbing for his wrist to stop him from walking towards the display case... to that smirking sales clerk. “Don't do this on your own! We're a team!”
His eyes fixed on me, freezing me in place. “Exactly. I'm the half of the team that recognizes this is freaking you out. I'll handle it, Maya. Trust me.”
I hadn't trusted anyone for a long time. That part of my soul had frayed away too recently to have healed. But watching Conner as he strode up to the counter, talking softly, patiently, to the salesman, I did want to trust him. I'd trusted him enough on Friday to play out that scene with him, hadn't I?
That's different, I told myself. Real life, with real money, and real fucking responsibilities and consequences for wasting cash on a pointless ring for a fake engagement... that's not something you do casually. Conner didn't care about my plea. He didn't glance at me as he spread his hands on the glass counter top, eyeing the rings inside.
Sliding my heel backwards, I hesitantly left the store. It was a relief to get away from all the over priced jewelry. I hated that Conner was in there, buying something without consulting me. If he spent a bunch of money, I'd throw up. I had no clue what he could afford. I still hadn't asked him what he did for a living. If we showed up at my Pappy's birthday party and I didn't know what my would-be-husband's job was... I'd look like a fool.
I'm unable to handle being humiliated. I'd always been hard on myself. My mother was a critic, but I didn't blame her for making me this way. I'd watched her work herself to the bone, all to make sure I was taken care of. I'd recognized her desire for my success at an early age. It was me that had decided life was pointless if you weren't trying your best.
Winning, in everything, was key. Once, I'd broken into tears during a first grade spelling bee because I'd misheard the word 'cabinet' and had been too proud to ask them to repeat. I'd spelled 'clarinet' instead. I still had nightmares about that day.
Conner and I had so much work to do to pull this charade off.
“There you are.” He walked up to me where I was waiting only a few stores down. “You didn't get far.”
“You didn't take much time,” I countered. I eyeballed his empty hands. “So...”
He winked, his long legs carrying him towards the mall's double-door exit. “You didn't get a snack.”
“We ate at Stony's an hour ago.”
“You're saying you'd turn down dessert?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I laughed heartily. “We definitely need to get to know each other better. I never turn down dessert.”
He tapped his temple. “I'm taking notes. I'll know everything about you soon enough, Maya.”
My damn heart kicked my ribs. “Fontine. That's my last name.”
He slowed down, holding the door open for me. “Whynn.”
“Win?” I giggled. “Your last name is Win?”
“W-h-y-n-n. But yeah.”
“That's ridiculous.”
“Don't knock it too hard. It'll be your last name soon enough, remember?”
The blood drained from my face; I saw my pale reflection in the glass doors as they swung shut behind me, the cool air outside a massive relief. “Not really, though,” I mumbled.
Conner watched me closely as we walked towards his yellow Mustang that he'd driven us to the mall in. It was parked on the curb, the setting sun turning the vibrant paint orange. “Right,” he said, opening the door for me. “It's just pretend.”
I was trembling when I sat in the passenger seat. Suddenly, dessert didn't sound so good. I'd been worrying about convincing Conner to play along for my mother's sake... but what if I was the one who couldn't keep the lie going?
HE DROVE US TO A CUTE ice cream shop that overlooked the Cumberland river. There were tiny lights strung up on the white roof, around the outdoor seating area, and around the trunks of the potted red maple trees. The crisp breeze, normally a relief in the humid weather, made me shiver.
“Here,” he said, draping his heavy jean jacket around my shoulders. I tugged it close, smiling thankfully. “I hope it's not too cold for ice cream.”
“Never,” I said flatly.
He laughed as he propped an arm on the outdoor window of the store. “Hey there, can I get a caramel-chunk scoop on a dunked cone, and then whatever the lovely lady wants.”
“Cherry and lavender, mixed in a cup,” I said.
He sat next to me at a tiny table. The wind brushed through his hair, moving the thick pieces that weren't cropped short. I loved his hair. It managed to be both wild and stylish at the same time.
“Is that your favorite flavor?” he asked.
I dipped my plastic spoon into my ice cream, sucking on it hungrily. “Guilty. What about you?”
Conner leaned towards me, licking the pink scoop, holding eye contact with me as he did it. “Cherry is quickly becoming my favorite, too.”
Overwhelmed by his flirting, I fumbled with my cup of ice cream. “Ah! Dammit!” It toppled to the ground at my feet but amazingly it didn't spill.
“I'll get it,” he said, crouching down on the wooden floor boards.
“Thanks. Sorry.” I hoped he didn't think my reaction was stupid. The little compliments he made were harder to handle than the dirty things we'd done in the hotel room.
Why was he still on the ground?
“You okay down there?” I asked, watching his bent head and flexing, broad back. It was all I could see.
“I was just looking for som
ething. I found it.” Settling onto one knee, Conner grinned up at me. His blue eyes were smoldering so intensely I didn't notice the ring box in his hands at first.
My muscles went stiff. Around me, I heard the happy murmur of the other guests. They were in the middle of a show. I remembered the times I'd been out dining, and I'd witnessed a young man propose to his girlfriend, watched her jump up and down cheering out Yes yes yes!
“Maya?” Conner whispered.
“Oh lord,” I whispered back.
He pushed the box closer; I could see the beautiful ring inside, the not-tiny-at-all diamond surrounded by sapphires. Because I said I liked the color blue, I realized. How much did that cost? Holy shit.
“Maya.”
I stared at him, then the ring, then back again. His eyes widened meaningfully. The waitress was bouncing on her heels just behind him, hugging her tray, mouthing something at me. I read her lips out loud. “Yes.”
“Yes?” he repeated.
“Yes—I mean.” Shaking my head sharply, I took a huge breath. “Neptune,” I whispered, so softly only he and I heard it. The line of tension running across his forehead smoothed away. I'd almost forgotten to start the scene. Had I fucked up by saying yes first?
No. That didn't matter. There wasn't some rule book for fake engagements. This was all pretend. All of it.
Steeling myself with determination, I put my hands over his on the velvet box. If I could play a spoiled mafia brat in a hotel room, I could play a swooning bride-to-be. “Yes! Of course I'll marry you!”
Conner swept me into his arms, spinning me until I was disoriented, kissing me until my lips burned. Around us, people were cheering. Clapping. Making me forget ever so briefly that this was all an act. We weren't really engaged. I'd said the safe word.
That made it fake, right?
Chapter 7
The Sleepover
CONNER HAD BEEN DEATHLY serious about me living with him. I wasn't going to end my lease, there was no reason to go that far, but he told me to pack up everything I'd need so I could stay with him until Pappy's birthday.