Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  Yet, cheesy or not, I try my best to conceal how flustered I am from just a simple kiss on the cheek. His lips, soft against my skin, sent a bolt of desire straight to my heart. And the way his arms felt around my waist? Oh. My. God. I thought for sure I’d melt right then and there.

  What is wrong with me? I know damn well, I cannot—will not—develop feelings for this man.

  Mentally, I recite MyFakeFiance.com’s Rules of Engagement to set me back on track.

  1) Don’t fall in love with the client. 2) When in doubt, refer to rule #1…

  17

  CHASE

  She likes me.

  Ivy—whom I shall refer to as Evelyn from this point on—likes me.

  How can I tell? It was written all over her red-cheek-flustered face when I released her from my embrace. Soon after that, the flustered bombshell excused herself, saying she was tired and needed to take a nap.

  True confession: I like her, too…a lot. In fact, infatuated sums it up more accurately.

  And who wouldn’t be? The woman is gorgeous, funny, and judging by her performance thus far, she’s a talent to be reckoned with.

  But acting on a ‘something deemed more-than-a-crush’, would be futile.

  I didn’t sign up to MyFakeFiancé.com, to find a real one.

  “So, can we meet her when we get home? Mama says she’s got a fancy British accent like Princess Kate, and a precious doggie like the one in that movie, Legally Blonde.” My little sister Maddie has been chewing my ear off over the phone for the last twenty minutes.

  I smile into the phone, entertained by the animated tone in her voice. “She’s taking a nap now, but once I’m done helping Mom sort the Christmas decorations, I’m planning to wake her up. By the time you and Dad come home, she should be down here, ready to meet you all.”

  “Okay. Dad told me to tell you we’d be home in about an hour. See you soon.”

  “Bye, Maddie.”

  Sitting in the living room, Mom and I sort through the decorations for the tree. Per tradition, we always decorate it one week before Christmas. When I was little, I’d go with Dad to pick out a fresh fir from a Christmas Tree Farm in upstate New York. We’d stop halfway home, at the local bakery, for fresh-baked cookies and hot cocoa. Little traditions that Maddie gets to enjoy now. Sometimes I miss those times when I was innocent and blind to what Dad and Mom did behind the scenes to provide the lifestyle I’d grown accustomed to. Perhaps one day, if I’m lucky enough, I’ll be able to have my own family in which to begin our own traditions.

  “You should go get Evelyn. I’d like her to participate in our tradition this year,” Mom suggests. “BB, too,” she adds.

  “I know for a fact you approve of Evelyn. You’re not a dog lover.”

  “I have to admit, BB is hard to resist. That fiancée of yours? She’s also pretty hard to resist.” She laughs. “I can’t wait to learn more about her.”

  “She is indeed. I’m thrilled you like her. Evelyn’s got this funny way of making me forget who I am.”

  Mom leans in, takes hold of one side of my face. “Honey, I don’t think she’s making you forget who you are. She’s making you remember who you were before…”

  She doesn’t even have to finish that sentence. I was a different man BV—Before Valerie. “I know, Mom. I know.”

  As I head up to the guest flat to invite Evelyn and BB down for the Hunter Christmas Tree Lighting, I can’t help but think how ironic it would be if this whole fake thing, became something tangible.

  Don’t be an idiot.

  Shaking the thought out of my head, I turn the knob to open the room door, but the knob is jammed. Turning it again, I push the door and at the same time, it swings open. In I go, flying with it, and run smack into Evelyn. My arms lock around her waist, and she clings to me, her hands grasping my biceps as I keep her from falling on her ass.

  “Oh,” she stammers, “I was just heading downstairs.” Her eyes, fringed with those sweeping lashes, mingle with mine. She bites down on her lower lip and for a second I’m so, so tempted to pull her closer than she already is and give her a taste of the desire that’s starting to burn in me.

  “Funny, I was coming to get you,” I mutter.

  Still holding onto me, I can feel her breaths quicken. The slow movement in her throat is visible; she swallows before she speaks. “Really? Why?”

  Her tongue swipes those sexy, sweet-looking, heart-shaped lips. Fuck it. I just go for it, before my brain gets a chance to protest. Pulling her close, my mouth sweeps over hers, warm and willing. Every single one of my nerve endings tingle, throb, with excitement. She opens her mouth, letting out a moan that instantly becomes music to my ears. My tongue finds hers, a combo of mint and cherry-flavored lip gloss, as her hands travel up to my hair, her fingers running wild. Tasting Evelyn, for the first time, sends electricity traveling in waves, throughout my body.

  God, this woman…

  My brain finally begins its ruthless protest—that mantra kicking me in the gut.

  Business Transaction.

  I pull away, step back, and rub my mouth with the back of my hand as if that’s enough to wipe the taste of honey off my lips.

  “Evelyn, I’m so sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  It takes all I’ve got to stand my ground, even though I want so badly to kiss her that way…over and over again.

  18

  IVY

  Chase Hunter is one helluva kisser. I run my fingers over my lips, still full from the seven-minutes-in-heaven, lip-and-tongue-locking session that ended far too soon.

  I like him. Truth be told, it’s possible I may be a little cray-cray over him. When he embraced me and kissed me on the cheek down in the kitchen, I morphed into a hot mess, fleeing with a lame excuse to take a nap.

  That nap? Never happened.

  I laid down, thinking of reasons why I should forget about Holly’s rules and just go for a little holiday tryst. Or more. Because I’m pretty sure I want more.

  Instead, I told myself I had a job to complete and was just about to head downstairs to play more of Evelyn fake fiancée, when, boom!, in plowed the H.A.M., in all his, sexy-looking-but-you-cannot-have-him glory.

  Then, that heart-stopping, make-me-want-him-even-more kiss…

  Why did he pull away?

  “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not like I wasn’t a willing participant,” I say, knees like Jello.

  He closes the door, struts over to me, my lips tingling, wishfully gearing up for another kiss.

  Cupping my face, his thumb gently grazes my cheek. “As much as I loved kissing you, it can’t happen again.” His low growl lets me know he’s battling his own urges. “We’ll lose focus on the task at hand, and part of that task is making sure we don’t break any rules.” He moves his hands from off my face; the absence of his warmth on my skin makes me shiver. Taking a few steps back, he shoves his hands in the pockets of the jeans that just so happen to hug him in all the right places. “Business, not pleasure.”

  His words sting. Yet, he’s absolutely right. Who am I kidding anyway?

  Why in the hell would a man like Chase Hunter—billionaire without a care—want a little nobody, out-of-work actress, like me?

  I give a half-shrug, hoping its nonchalantness masks my bitterness. “Well, let’s get back to business then, shall we?” I say it in my Evelyn British accent and Chase sucks a deep breath in, then out.

  Silence drowns out the sound of my heart, beating like a rhythmic drum, as I follow Chase downstairs. He explained his mom wants me to participate in the family tree-decorating tradition.

  Great. Now all I need is to grow heart-swelling feelings for his family, too.

  I plaster a smile across my face as I channel Evelyn Bloom, and just as I step into the living room, Zia is there, humming Christmas tunes, looking like the perfect would-be mother-in-law.

  “Evelyn, I trust your nap has left you feeling revitalized?” She smiles, genuine, real.

  Actuall
y, the kiss your scorching-hot son just teased me with, was quite the picker-upper.

  “Yep. I’m feeling like a million bucks.”

  “Where’s BB?” She looks around the room.

  Oops. You see what that kiss did to me? I never leave my poor baby behind. Chase Hunter’s succulent lips—obviously—sucked the brain cells out of me. I’ll be surprised if I can formulate complete sentences for the rest of the evening.

  “She was still napping,” Chase replies, seemingly on my behalf. “I’ll go get her because I’m sure Maddie wants to meet her.”

  He leaves me alone with his mom and right away, she pats the couch, inviting me to sit beside her, and I don’t hesitate.

  “Chase’s Dad, sister, grandmother, and her friend, will be here soon. And they’re all looking forward to meeting you. Don’t get alarmed at their level of excitement and the possible flood of questions they may ask you.”

  I giggle. “I’m looking forward to meeting them, too.”

  She holds up an ornament, eyes all agleam. “This one is just about thirty-years-old. It was Chase’s first Christmas one, and what started this whole tradition. Since then, we purchase new ornaments every year, and sometimes I wonder how we make them all fit.” She lifts her chin in the direction of boxes full of ornaments. “All that, is what we’ll be hanging on the tree tonight.”

  Chase returns with BB, setting her down on the hardwood floor. To my surprise, my diva trots over to Zia instead of me.

  I sigh. Even BB’s falling for them.

  “I’m starving, Mom. Got anything to snack on?”

  “Sure, there are some cookies on the counter, but you know pizza is on its way. It should arrive around the same time your Dad pulls up.”

  I sit up, interest piqued. “Pizza?”

  Zia chuckles, BB in her lap enjoying being pampered. “Another part of the tradition. We enjoy a feast of pizza as we decorate to our heart's content. You do like pizza, right?”

  I nod, ignoring my stomach growling. “It’s my favorite.”

  “I’ll just wait until the food arrives then,” Chase tells his mom.

  We steal a glance at one another, then quickly break free, as if we both want to avoid eye contact. One look may just ignite the flame between us.

  I hear the front door open.

  Then footsteps.

  A young girl with long, brown ringlets barrels into the living room, a smile just as wide as her shimmering blue eyes.

  “Chase!” she squeaks and zigzags toward her big brother’s open arms.

  “Oh, Mads,” he says, whirling his sister around, her boot-covered feet dangling in the air. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too.” She giggles then cranes her neck and cast a glance at me. “Is that”—she looks to Chase—“my soon-to-be sister-in-law?” she asks, her tone dripping with glee.

  My heart melts into my stomach, leaving a warm feeling bubbling inside.

  If this family gets any more amazing, I may just have to ask them if they can adopt me, seeing how I can’t marry into it, and all.

  “Yup,” Chase says, then cuts her loose, nudging her forward. “Go say hi, silly.”

  Maddie approaches, armed with an infectious grin that has to be wider than the Hudson River.

  I rise from the couch, more nervous to make her acquaintance than I was his own mom. “Hello, Maddie. I’m Evelyn.” I extend a hand to shake hers and the younger, spitting image of Chase, charges me. Before I know it, her arms are locked around my waist, like a bear cub latched to its mom.

  “It’s so good to meet you, Evelyn.” She peers up at me. “I like your accent, too. Reminds me of Bridget Jones.”

  We—Chase, Zia, Maddie, and I—share a laugh, and then a tall man, who has that same commanding stance as Chase, walks in, two boxes of pizza in his hands.

  “What’s so funny in here?” he says, a hint of frolic in his tone.

  “Dad, let me help with those.” Chase dashes to help Mr. Hunter with the boxes of pizza. “We were just laughing at Maddie’s candidness.”

  “She gets that from your mom.” He eyes me and cocks his head to the side, a smirk that has the same characteristics as his son’s. “You must be the lovely Evelyn Bloom. Zia sent me a text message earlier, telling me everything she knows about you so far—all good, by the way.”

  I bob my head. “Yep, I’m Evelyn. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hunter.”

  He meets me halfway, ignores my handshake, and gives me a hug. “Welcome to the family. And, please call me OG. That’s what everyone else calls me whenever Chase Jr. and I are in the same space.”

  Two more waltz in: an older woman, hair the color of silver, and an older gentleman, both arms locked, looking like a pair of newlyweds.

  “Granny.” Chase hugs the woman, kisses her on the cheek, then shakes her companion’s hand.

  Chase’s grandmother welcomes me with open arms and all I can think is how freaking wonderful these people are.

  How did I get so lucky to snag a gig as good as this one?

  19

  CHASE

  They’re all head over heels.

  Every single member of my family adores Evelyn Bloom.

  It’s been two days since we’ve arrived and I’m not gonna lie and say it’s been easy for me to ignore the feelings I seem to be developing toward her. Less easy when we’re forced to hold hands, or when we sit close to one another, my arm around her, the scent of her jasmine-scented hair making me conjure up thoughts of me doing more than just kissing her.

  Speaking of that kiss, we haven’t bothered to bring it up. I suppose it’s easier to sweep it under the pretend-it-didn’t-happen rug.

  The nights have been the toughest. Knowing Evelyn is just a few feet away from me, sleeping alone in a bed large enough for the two of us to roll around in together—well, the struggle has been a nightmare. Nonetheless, I’ll carry on in this battle to keep my pants on and do whatever it takes to keep this thing platonic. We have, however, had a chance to learn more about one another. I shared my last relationship fail with Valerie Marks and Evelyn blurted out that she’s never fallen in love. She seems to have been playing the love game safe. Sometimes safe is better.

  Right now, Evelyn’s hanging out with Maddie, the two preparing Chicken and Waffles for dinner. I let it slip that Evelyn once had a video blog, and since Maddie is a crazy foodie, she found the old blog on YouTube. When she asked about the funny American accent, Evelyn answered on the fly, explaining she always wanted to talk with an American accent when she was younger and pretended to have one then for the video blog. The two, now besties, came up with this plan to have me record a video of them as they recreate the Micky D’s dish Evelyn and I had the day we met.

  So, I’m headed down to the kitchen now, ready to rock and roll.

  The center island in the kitchen looks like a pre-staged Food TV studio set. Evelyn and Maddie are dressed in white T-shirts, the words Cook Like a Foodie bedazzled across the front—thanks to Mom, who spent last night making them.

  Dad, Mom, Granny, and her companion, named Bob, and of course, BB, are all seated off to the side, ready to watch as if they were part of the studio audience.

  I grab a stool, get my cell phone ready to record, and ask, “Are you two ready?”

  Evelyn nods.

  Maddie gives a thumbs-up and says, “We rehearsed our lines last night.”

  “Lines?” I ask.

  Evelyn winks. “Well, yes. The screenwriter in me needed to make sure we had a well-rehearsed script to go by.”

  She’s so damn good. Never misses a beat.

  “Okay, let’s get this party started. How long will it be?”

  Maddie smooths down her shirt, making sure there are no wrinkles. “Last night, it took us only about 25 minutes.”

  I shift, getting comfy on the bar stool, then lift my phone, point, and say, “Ready? Action!”

  “Hi, guys. Welcome to Cook Like a Foodie. I’m your new host, Maddie Hunter and today, Evelyn Bloom,
Cook Like a Foodie’s original host, is officially turning over the show’s reigns to me…”

  “They love you, Evelyn. You do realize that, don’t you? Mom, Dad, Mads, Granny. Shit, even Bob loves you.”

  “I love them too, Chase,” she says, and I can hear her tossing and turning in the bed.

  It’s close to midnight now, the wind howling as a snowstorm barrels through.

  “Maddie sure had fun. You both did great. It was sweet of you to give her the show. I can see her becoming this famous YouTuber now, earning more money than I ever could have at her age.”

  “She’s perfect for it. And last I checked, the video you posted, already has four-thousand views.”

  I turn on my side, trying to find a comfortable position on the couch. “They’re all going to be so disappointed when I tell them we’ve split up, a few months from now. Maddie may be hit the hardest.” A pain moves to my chest, knowing there will be real feelings hurt over this.

  What was I thinking? That I would come home, fake everyone out, and there would be no consequences?

  It’s Evelyn’s fault for being so damn perfect for my family.

  So damn perfect for me.

  “Chase?”

  I sit up, thinking maybe there’s a chance she’ll invite me into bed with her. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have our naked bodies pressed together, those sexy legs of hers wrapped around my waist, hear her call out my name during a mind-blowing climax. Stop. That. “Yes, Evelyn?”

  “I think I’d like to visit my parents tomorrow. I mean, I’m so close to home, it would be a pity not to stop by at least for a couple of days and then come back here, Christmas Eve.”

  I ponder in silence. “Okay. Would you like me to go with you? I can be your fake billionaire fiancé, return you the favor?”

  She laughs. “Oh, heck no. Ma would flip out of her mind if I introduced you as my fiancé only to announce a breakup later. She’d never let me live down that I let a good man get away.”