by Abby Brooks
“I think it’s none of your business what I do with my life.” His voice was cold and his smile disappeared into a hard, thin line.
She nodded vigorously. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I have a big mouth. Go on.”
James exhaled through his nose and pursed his lips, studying her for a few of the longest seconds of Ellie’s life before he continued. “I’d like to…hire you. To pretend to be my girlfriend for a couple months until my family calms down. I wouldn't necessarily pay you, but I’d pay for all of our dates. Clothes if you need them. We’d have to kiss and hold hands in public, but nothing more physical than that. Of course, you’d have to be my date for my brother’s wedding. And all the festivities surrounding the wedding.”
Ellie stared, mouth open and speechless, until he became uncomfortable enough to take a step back and straighten his posture.
“You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” she hissed at last. “Let me tell you something, friend. I’m worth way more than a pretend relationship. Way more.”
Surprise lifted James’ eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything about your worth. Just thought I had an offer that was mutually beneficial.”
“Mutually beneficial, huh? As in you get to lie to your family and I get, what? The pleasure of being seen with you? No, thank you.”
James dug in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Plunked down too much money for the coffee, turned on his heel without another word, and stalked out. Ellie swallowed hard, put both hands on the counter, and shook her head as her breath ripped through her lungs.
Had that really happened?
Did James Moore ask her to pretend date him…and she told him no?
“What the hell was that about?” Tessa asked as she practically sprinted from her place near the window.
“He wanted me to pretend to be his girlfriend.”
Tessa blinked. “What?”
“Yeah, you know. Go out with him. Hold his hand in public. Go to his brother’s wedding. Basically date him without dating him.”
“What? Why? That doesn’t make any sense.” Tessa looked just as confused as the situation warranted. What kind of guy asked a mere acquaintance to do something like that?
“I guess his family is really worried about him after the breakup.”
Tess nodded, acknowledging the revelation with a genuine lack of surprise. “I hear he’s been drinking a lot. And hanging out with some guys that are into amateur MMA. Like Fight Club or something.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “What did you say? You told him you'd do it, didn't you?”
“I told him to get bent.” Ellie laughed, still surprised by her own response.
“You did what?” Tessa’s eyes went wide. “But he’s your dream guy!”
“Yeah. But come on. When you think dream guy, is that the way you imagine it? A fake relationship that only exists when you’re in front of people?” Ellie thought about James’ lips, his hands on her chest, his hard body pressed against hers as she stretched out on top of him in his bed. That’s what she wanted. Lots more of that.
“I’m worth more than faking it,” she whispered, eyes locked on her fidgeting hands.
Tessa reached over the counter and twined her fingers with Ellie’s. “Hell yes you are. You're worth the real deal. And you’re gonna find a guy who falls head-over-heels in love with you while you fall head-over-heels in love with him and it’s going to be magical.”
Ellie shrugged. “Maybe.”
She wasn't so sure she believed in the whole head-over-heels, magical love thing. Relationships were complicated and messy, and only slightly better than being lonely.
The front door swung open and for a split-second Ellie hoped it was James. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or disappointed to discover it wasn’t him, but Mrs. Cernshaw in search of her daily scone.
“Hey,” Tessa said after a few more people came through the door. “Looks like you’re going to get busy here. I’m gonna scram. Meet me at Hurricane’s for margaritas tonight?”
Ellie looked dubious and started to protest. She’d been staying out too late a lot lately and was falling behind on sleep.
“I’m taking your option away.” Tessa made her favorite bossy face. “If you don’t meet me for margaritas tonight, then I rescind your best friend status.”
“You can’t do that.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”
The doors opened and closed again, and a line started to form behind Tessa. “Fine.” Ellie smiled and flared her hands. “I’ll meet you tonight.”
“Awesome! Seven o’clock on the nose. I’ll start docking friend points for every minute you’re late.”
Chapter Seven
James
James had planned to spend his evening with Ellie, enjoying a few drinks while they discussed the best ways to make their ‘relationship’ appear believable. The absolute last thing he anticipated was offending her with the offer and spending the night at Hurricane’s alone.
He picked up his drink—whiskey, neat—and swirled the liquid in the glass before bringing it to his lips. Oliver and Ethan were at The Pit watching a fight, mentally preparing for Ethan’s first match that weekend. Seeing as James intended to make his debut in the ring soon, he should have been there with them. He’d passed on the invite, deciding to ask Ellie to be his fake girlfriend instead.
What the actual fuck?
Why did she get so bent out of shape about the whole thing?
What was so bad about spending time with him? Free drinks? Dinners? Occasional dancing? Never, not once in his life, had someone passed on the opportunity to take advantage of the perks that came with being his friend.
What was so offensive about pretending to be in love? From where he stood, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do. Wasn’t she alone the night she drove him home from the bar? She had to be. There was no way James could imagine her ditching a date to make out with another guy.
That just wasn’t Ellie Charles.
Memories of that night had been coming back to him in blips. The smell of her hair when he held her tight, swaying in time to the music as they danced. The feel of her lips, so soft, so supple. The look in her eyes as she gazed into his.
As he stared at the amber liquid in the bottom of his glass, an uncomfortable feeling settled into his shoulders. He paused to analyze it and realized he was seriously disappointed she turned him down. He’d been looking forward to getting to know Ellie better. As for the kissing and hand holding and relationshipy stuff that would be required to keep up the pretense? Truthfully, that sounded pretty damn good, too.
James took another drink of his whiskey and welcomed the numbness that chased it down his throat. His knuckles stung. Bruised and scabbed from his time on the heavy bag earlier in the day. His body ached, sore from the gym and the repeated falls he took with his sparring partner.
All of it was good.
Each prick of pain kept his mind from the agony he would feel when he returned to his house that was no longer a home.
A familiar voice startled him out of his thoughts. He spun in his seat at the bar and leaned his elbows back on the counter.
Erin was there.
At the bar.
He scanned the growing crowd, hating how eager he was to see her blonde hair shining in the dim light and her blue eyes flashing with the smile he heard in her voice. He should have known better than to look, because when he found her, she wasn’t alone. She had some other guy’s arm around her shoulders.
No. Not just some other guy. That was Leonard. The guy she’d been cheating on him with. The guy she left him for. And her smile was for him. And her laughter was for him. And she was for him and that cut James to the quick.
He watched her for a while, leaning back on the bar, drink in hand. An unnoticed observer of all their longing gazes and meaningful touches. The graze of her fingertips along his hand and the brush of his thumb across her cheeks. Leonard leaned over and pressed
a kiss to Erin’s wrist. She ducked her chin in a move he knew meant she was happy.
James waited for pain to flare in his chest, to radiate outwards and transform him back into a big, raw nerve. He braced for the ache to set in, ready to drown it with whiskey.
It never came.
Interesting. What could that mean? The fact that he could watch that interaction without shattering? Was he healing? Or just drunk enough not to care?
Erin glanced toward the bar. Her eyes locked on his. Her jaw tightened and her lips turned down in a frown. Leonard followed her gaze and shook his head, eyebrows pursed together like a furry caterpillar meandering across his forehead. They had a quick, whispered conversation, the words sharpened by tense jaws and angry gestures. James watched it all with detached interest and took another drink, curious about the exchange and surprised by his own lack of gut-wrenching, visceral grief.
Erin held up her hands and sat back from Leonard and he sighed deeply, unhappy about whatever it was she had to say. And then, to James’ complete and utter surprise, Erin stood up from her table and made her way to where he sat at the bar. With his eyes locked on hers and hers locked on his, he brought his glass to his lips and finished the whiskey in one long swallow.
“What are you doing, James?” Erin crossed her arms over her chest and sat back on a heel.
“I’m having a drink.” He held up the empty glass and twisted in his seat to put it back on the bar, indicating to the bartender that he’d like another. “How about you? What are you doing?”
“Don’t be cute.” Erin tightened the grip she had on her arms and leaned forward. “Are you following me?”
James barked a caustic laugh. “You sure have a high opinion of yourself.”
“Or maybe I have a low opinion about you.” She arched an eyebrow and lifted her chin, blue eyes flashing defiantly.
“Careful about casting judgement. You know, stones and glass houses.” When his lifelong girlfriend didn’t respond, James leaned close. “I’m not the one who cheated, sweetheart.”
Erin’s nostrils flared. “Yeah, well I’m not the one who fell to pieces. Drinking myself into oblivion. Hanging out with jerks. And fighting? MMA? Really? It’s like you’re bound and determined to hurt me by hurting yourself.”
James shrugged. Nothing pissed Erin off more than when she picked a fight and he didn’t engage. The bartender sat his drink down with a thunk of glass on wood and James spun on his stool, turning his back on Erin.
Her sharp intake of breath validated him.
He had officially infuriated her.
He took comfort in her rage, knowing it made him a dick. Maybe he would forgive her for how she treated him one day. But that day had not yet arrived.
“You don’t get to treat me this way,” she said.
James craned his neck to look over his shoulder. “The way I see it, I was sitting here enjoying my drink when you came over and started harassing me about my life choices.”
Without another word, Erin pivoted and stormed off. That was fine with him. He leaned his elbows into the bar and couldn’t help but smile. The last time he ran into his ex-fiancé had left him gutted. The days following the encounter were a blurred tangle of women and booze and at least one set of bloody knuckles.
He listened to the now familiar sounds of the bar, the band setting up on the small stage in the back of the room, the ebb and flow of whispered conversation punctuated by random laughter and exclamations. The practiced flirtations of the waitresses angling for better tips. The place had become more of a home to him than his own house over the past few months.
He laughed to himself.
Too many grownup thoughts, man. Why don’t you focus on finding some entertainment for the evening?
James spun in his seat again and studied the crowd. Erin and Leonard still occupied a table, and everything about them seemed cranked to eleven. Their movements tight. Their smiles stretched too wide. Erin’s eyes constantly flickered back to see if James was watching. It all seemed a little ridiculous.
Keeping his eyes on the crowd, he promised himself he wouldn’t let her catch him watching in return. Hell, he didn’t even feel the urge to look and that was a huge weight lifted off his soul. Like he’d been dragging an anchor around since July and finally figured out all he had to do was put the damn thing down.
If that didn’t call for a celebration, he didn’t know what did.
He’d find some beautiful, willing woman to spend the night with, drinking and fucking. It didn’t take long for his gaze to settle on a table near the band with two women laughing and joking and having so much fun…just watching them made him smile.
They were alive, bursting with energy and happiness. An undeniable urge to be part of that planted itself in his belly. He drowned the thought with a drink and watched them, trying to decide which one he was most interested in.
It was hard to make out features in the dim light of the bar, but his gaze fell on the brunette with the head of curls. He kept catching glimpses of her profile, her soft cheeks pulled up in laughter, her long eyelashes fluttering as she talked. The curve of her magnificent breasts putting the fabric of her T-shirt to the test.
That was the one. Her friend could join in if she wanted, but James wanted the brunette.
She tossed her hair and looked over her shoulder.
James froze. Then he shook his head and settled himself back into his seat. Because the gorgeous brunette with the contagious smile was none other than Ellie Charles.
Chapter Eight
Ellie
The band was on fire. Elle’s toes tapped and head bopped in time to the music. With a toss of her hair and a smile on her face, she picked up her margarita and finished what was left in one, long swallow. Margaritas held a special place in her heart and she always wound up drinking more than her fair share. They were just too tasty!
“This was such a good idea!” Ellie refilled her glass with the pitcher and threw a smile at Tessa.
“Of course it was a good idea. Who could say no to margaritas at Hurricane’s on a Tuesday?”
“Well, I should say no to margaritas at Hurricane’s on a Tuesday. Four a.m. comes very early.” Ellie shook her head and tried to look sad.
“Oh, come on. You work every day. Every. Damn. Day. And you’re only twenty-three! You can’t expect yourself to stay home every night just because you were freakishly responsible enough to start your own business. Every now and then, you gotta live, my friend. Gotta let yourself be free!”
Tessa had a point. Ever since she’d finally gathered enough self-confidence to kick Parasite Steve out of the apartment, Ellie had allowed her life to wither until all that remained was work, worry about the bills, and going to bed early so she could work and pay the bills.
Her failed online dating adventures had been an attempt to break out of the rut, but clearly, they weren’t getting her anywhere. Maybe what she needed were more nights out with Tessa. More chances to let down her hair and remember what it meant to have fun.
“I’ve been thinking.” Tessa scooted her chair closer to Ellie’s and leaned forward. “What if you actually did take James Moore up on his offer?” She scrunched her eyebrows together, shrugged, and bit her lip, looking as if she was trying to apologize for what she’d just suggested.
“What? Why? What happened to me being worth the real deal? To not letting someone else take advantage of me?” Ellie took a sip of her drink and laughed, the alcohol going straight to her head. She would have to slow down because rut or not, four-thirty did come really early.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about. Maybe it’s the other way around.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he wouldn’t be taking advantage of you. Maybe you’d be taking advantage of him.”
That didn't make any sense and Ellie had no qualms about letting Tessa know what she thought. “So, pretending I'm in love with him and getting all tangled up in a relationship would be me t
aking advantage of him? I don’t see it.”
“Think about it. You’d get to go out. Have some fun. Make out with the guy you’ve had the hots for since eighth grade.”
Ellie’s eyebrows jumped to her hairline. “I have not!” She totally did and she knew Tessa knew. She had not-so-secretly fawned over James for years.
“Don’t even try to lie to me.” Tessa raised her glass and took a drink. “I know all your secrets.”
Ellie considered the suggestion. “He is really hot.”
“And he has lots of money to take you all kinds of fun places.”
“And I don’t have to get involved emotionally. Just enjoy the ride.”
Tessa grinned. “Plus, now that he’s all dark and broody, he’s got that whole dangerous vibe going for him. Motorcycles and muscles and MMA?” Tessa licked the salt from the rim of her glass. “The ride you’d enjoy would totally be worth it.”
Ellie was about to agree, her mind tracing over those delicious tattoos on his arms, wondering if they connected on his sure to be magnificent chest and back, when a deep voice came from behind her. “It’s all true, you know.”
Both Tessa and Ellie whirled, stunned into silence at the sight of James Moore standing right behind them, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his jeans hugging his slim hips, and his chest and shoulders straining against the fabric of his shirt.
Heat rushed into Ellie’s cheeks and her mouth fell open. Of course, the moment they started talking about him, he’d end up right behind her.
“How long have you been there?” she asked, sitting back in her seat and tossing her hair.
“Since around the time you started talking about using me for my money and good looks.” James indicated an empty chair at their table. “May I?”
Tessa snorted, her wild eyes bouncing between James and Ellie.
“By all means.” Ellie gestured to the chair. “Have a seat. Join us. Maybe actually participate in the conversation instead of creeping around like some…creep.”
Tessa giggled again and took a nervous drink of her margarita. Ellie’s sweet friend would be useless from that point forward. Tess was great when it was just the two of them, but she fell to pieces as soon as someone else—anyone else—entered the mix.