Fake Dating the Hometown Deputy: A Sweet Standalone Romance (Fake Dates Book 2)

by Maggie Dallen

  Every little nasty truth.

  All the feelings she’d tried to smother when she’d walked into this place had come back to haunt her. Mock her.

  She might have gone off to college, and she’d traveled the world, and she’d had a fancy job with her designer dresses and her uncomfortable heels. But one foot in the hallowed halls of the Cyrano Country Club, and she’d been Nessie again.

  From the wrong family, with clothes that never fit… She’d even had her glasses on, for Pete’s sake.

  And then Trent had looked at her. He’d smiled. And just like that she’d remembered why she was here. She’d had an agenda, a purpose. The energy that had fueled her during long work nights and weekends spent cramming for a big meeting had vanquished the ghosts of Nessie’s past.

  And then she’d donned her armor. The dress, the hair, the contacts, the heels. By the time she’d exited the bathroom she’d remembered who she was now. Trent’s response had been the icing on the cake.

  Even now she felt a shudder run through her at the dark intensity in those vibrant, piercing eyes when he’d openly eyed her. Appreciated her.

  Saw her.

  “You all right?” he asked now, his voice low but his lips so close to her ear she could feel the rumble of it through his chest.

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  Her smile wasn’t quite up to snuff, but it was a start. It would have to do for now. She turned to him, ready to…what? Apologize for not telling him her plan?

  She couldn’t quite get out the words. She’d hated the look in his eyes when he’d realized what she was about, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it.

  It was the best plan. And not telling him had worked to her advantage.

  Maybe she ought to thank him for having her back with Chip. For not laughing at her or walking away in disgust when Chip reminded them all of who she was.

  Who she’d been.

  The words wouldn’t come. Her mind was frighteningly flustered at the unreadable look in his eyes, which held a world of emotions. Anger, tenderness, curiosity, bitterness. It was all there for her to see. His gaze was straightforward and genuine, just like the man himself.

  The next hour passed in a blur of smiles, small talk, and laughter as the inevitable happened—Trent won over the room. With that charming smile of his and his slow, easy drawl, he put everyone at ease. Even her. With him now firmly in charge, she didn’t have to try so hard. She fell all too easily into the role of his supportive girlfriend—smiling up at him adoringly as he answered questions about the upcoming election and his experience at the sheriff’s office with the natural confidence that seemed to be his trademark.

  By the end of the night her face hurt from smiling, her feet were screaming in pain from standing in heels all night, and she was exhausted from all the pretending. Pretending to be in love, telling pretty little lies about how Trent had swept her off her feet, and ignoring the smirks coming from Chip’s direction, silently calling her out on her lies. At least, that’s what it felt like.

  The rest of these people might not have remembered her—although a couple remembered her father from his time working at the ski lodge. But Chip remembered it all, and while his eyes might glint with a whole new appreciation, his words from earlier still made her skin crawl every time they echoed in her skull, mocking her dress, her shoes, her confident smile.

  Worst of all it brought out a nasty voice of her own that she hadn’t heard in ages.

  Who do you think you are trying to fit in here?

  She shushed it long enough to make it through the night. This wasn’t about her and her past, this was about Trent and his election. Trent, who was winning over this crowd just as she’d hoped—without even trying.

  It wasn’t fair, of course. It all came so effortlessly to him. The confidence and charisma she’d worked so hard to achieve came to him so naturally…It really wasn’t fair.

  But it was still a wonder to watch. Watching cynical, world-weary adults have their socks charmed off by Trent’s downhome honesty and integrity was just plain heartwarming.

  “Will you excuse us?” Trent said just as a conversation with the Gradys was reaching a natural lull. “I promised my girlfriend at least one slow dance this evening, and I’m afraid I’ve been letting her down.”

  Mrs. Grady smiled at Vanessa warmly as Mr. Grady chuckled. “Of course. You kids go enjoy yourselves while the night is young.”

  “The night is young?” Vanessa murmured as he led her toward the dance floor. “If that’s true, why do my feet feel like they might fall off?”

  Trent’s laughter rumbled beneath her cheek as he pulled her into his arms and swayed to the music. “I’m exhausted myself. What do you say we make our escape after this?”

  “I’d say, let’s make a run for it.” She closed her eyes and for one breathtaking moment—it seemed all too real. This. All of this. The feel of his arms around her holding her tight, the magical feel of moving in time to the music, making her lose all sense of where they were and who was watching. The way it felt to lean against him and feel his breath against her temple…

  Dancing was intimate. How had she never realized it before?

  Her eyes snapped open and she pulled back slightly, putting distance between them until the song ended. Trent took the lead making their escape and they managed to leave quickly and without a fuss.

  She sighed when they reached the parking lot. “So this was what Cinderella felt like.”

  Trent looked over at her with a quizzical little smile and she shook her head. “Forget it,” she said. She was tired…too tired. She wasn’t watching what came out of her mouth. The sooner she got home to her apartment and away from this dangerous man, the better.

  He took the car keys from her and she didn’t resist. She was too tired to think, let alone drive. The car ride passed in silence. She was lost in thought, reliving the night—the good and the bad. She didn’t know where Trent’s mind had gone but he seemed equally thoughtful.

  When they reached her apartment building, he parked the car and opened her door for her. She almost laughed. Ever the proper gentleman.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she said, already walking away.

  But he followed her. At her questioning look, he said, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  She blinked, not quite sure if he was serious. This was Cyrano—there were no bad neighborhoods in Cyrano. And even if there were, this wasn’t one of them. The lot was lit with streetlamps and her door was so close they could see it. She didn’t have it in her to argue, though. Besides, it wasn’t every day she was escorted home by a chivalrous knight.

  The thought made her smile and when they reached her door, she unlocked it and turned to say goodnight. The words faltered and died at the serious look on his face and the intensity in his eyes.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Her breath lodged somewhere between her lungs and her lips. She didn’t even try to speak.

  “Don’t lie to me again.” His voice was so low, so serious, her eyes widened in surprise and her lips parted, ready to protest. She’d had her reasons, after all. But before she could form a word, he placed a finger to her lips to silence her.

  It silenced her, all right. In fact, that gentle touch sent her mind into a tailspin and her body went temporarily haywire as sensations too unsettling to name raced through her, making her absurdly aware of her own heartbeat, the air struggling to leave her lungs, and the feel of this man’s roughened fingertips against her skin.

  “We’re on the same side here,” he said, his voice gravelly and so low she had to strain to hear him over the pounding of her heart. “I need you to be honest with me.”

  She stared up at him for a moment, her heart threatening to leap out of her chest. Finally, she nodded.

  He dropped his finger from her lips and she felt the loss of it. A chill replacing that instant surge of heat and her lips tingling where he’d touched them. “Are you
trying to get back at Chip?”

  She blinked up at him stupidly, her mind struggling to keep up. “What?”

  “Do you want him back?” he asked. The look in his eyes was hard to read but there was something grudging about his attitude. Like he didn’t want to be asking this. Like he didn’t want to hear the answer.

  Did she want Chip back? The question was so ludicrous it almost made her laugh.

  Almost.

  “He was never mine to begin with,” she said.

  His gaze darkened in a rare show of irritation—or maybe frustration. “Vanessa,” he growled.

  She pressed her lips together trying to think of a simple response to a complicated question.

  “I saw you, Vanessa. This little act wasn’t just for the benefit of the Redhook crowd. You were trying to make Chip jealous.”

  He didn’t pose it as a question so she felt no compulsion to answer. Had she been trying to make him jealous? Yes. She supposed she had. But not out of some desire to make him want her for himself. No, her infatuation with Chip had ended the day he’d cruelly laughed in her face for even thinking she’d have a chance with him.

  So why had she wanted to make him jealous? She shifted uncomfortably under Trent’s all-seeing stare. “I don’t want Chip,” she said. “Not like that.”

  His gaze never wavered. “Are you sure?”

  She bristled at the condescension. “What do you mean, ‘are you sure?’ Of course I’m sure.”

  “You used to be friends,” he started.

  “No.” She cut him off rudely. “We weren’t friends. I mean, I thought we were for a while there but I realized too late that he just liked having someone around who adored him.”

  She waited to see a flicker of pity. After all, he’d known her back then. He must have seen how hard she’d tried to be accepted.

  “So you’re trying to flip the tables?” he said. “Make him adore you?”

  She stared at him for a moment in surprise. She hadn’t thought about it like that. “No. I mean…not really.” Ugh. All her witty comebacks and poise had gone out the window the moment she’d arrived in this town, and being around Trent only seemed to make it worse.

  She hadn’t felt this flustered around a guy since… Well, since she’d tutored Trent.

  Guess you got everything you always wanted. Chip’s taunt came back to her and she felt a rare heat creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

  Great. Just great. She hadn’t blushed like a schoolgirl since she was a schoolgirl. Yet more evidence that coming back to this town had turned her back into the girl she’d been when she’d lived here.

  Leave it to Chip to remember her stupid childish crush on Trent. Oh, she’d gotten over it. She’d never been a dreamer, but a realist. In no reality had she been in the same league as the star quarterback, let alone girlfriend potential. So yeah, she’d pushed all daydreams and silly crushes aside and focused on the guy who had noticed her existence…when it suited him, at least.

  She’d stupidly thought Chip was the pragmatic choice for a crush. While even daydreaming about Trent had felt like a fairytale, the idea of Chip seeing her as something more than his tagalong friend had seemed… well, still like a daydream, but like an attainable dream.

  She’d been wrong, of course.

  Trent leaned in closer and she found herself holding her breath. Maybe it was the memory of her long-ago crush on this man, but his proximity felt more unsettling than ever. Not that she didn’t trust him to keep his distance—she didn’t trust herself not to lose her head.

  “Look, Vanessa,” he said, his tone more serious than she’d ever heard. “If you’re going to be helping me with this campaign, then I deserve to know your motives.” He held his hands out wide at his side. “If there’s a chance you’re going to switch sides, or if our interests aren’t aligned, then—”

  “Are you kidding me?” Her voice was too shrill but finally he’d said something stupid enough to snap her out of her childish fantasies long enough to remember who she was now.

  Planting her hands on her hips, she matched his fierce stare with one of her own and straightened to her full height. “I realize you don’t know me very well, but trust me when I tell you this. I am a professional.” She took a deep steadying breath to rein in her anger. “I take my job seriously, and this gig is the kind of experience I need to get my new endeavor off the ground, so if you think I would jeopardize that—”

  “Whoa, whoa.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I didn’t mean to attack your integrity, okay? And I would never underestimate your work ethic. Heck, from what Addison and Colton have told me about your job, you’ve more than proven yourself in your field.” His lips hitched up a bit and it was impossible to stay angry. “It’s remarkable how much you’ve accomplished in such a short amount of time.”

  Yup. The last of her anger disappeared into the ethos. “Thank you.”

  His exhale sounded weary. “I didn’t mean to start a fight, Vanessa. I just want to understand. I have a lot on the line here.”

  She bit her lip, a sudden and unexpected guilt knocking her right off her high horse. “I’m sorry.”

  His eyes widened slightly in surprise.

  She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to turn that into…” She flapped a hand wildly, searching for the words. “I didn’t mean to make that about me. This election is about you. And you deserve it.”

  He arched his brows. “You sound very certain for someone who hasn’t lived here in years. Maybe I’m terrible at my job.”

  She gave a little huff of amusement. “Oh please. The great Trent Arnolds? You’ve never failed at anything, admit it.”

  “That’s not totally true,” he said, his voice soft like he was talking to himself and not to her.

  Curiosity burned her from the inside out. She couldn’t stop herself even though she knew it was none of her business. “Tell me, Arnolds. When have you ever failed?”

  His smile was small and rueful. “You said it yourself. I’ve never been able to maintain a relationship.”

  If her curiosity was strong before, it was overwhelming now. She’d been wondering ever since she’d returned and heard the gossip. “Why is that, do you think?”

  He shrugged and for a second she thought he might not answer. “I guess being burned by Shelley did more of a number on me than I thought.”

  She winced in sympathy. She hadn’t had much luck in love, either, but she’d never been so in love that she’d gotten engaged. The heartbreak that came with a broken engagement was something she couldn’t even fathom. “So now…what? You leave before they have a chance?”

  His smile was bittersweet—part surprise, part revelation, and part bleak sadness. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

  She had a feeling that wasn’t the whole truth, but it was hardly her place to psychoanalyze this man or his relationships. He seemed to be realizing something similar because he took another step back, putting some distance between them.

  “I should go,” he said.

  She didn’t want him to. And she didn’t want to think about why she so desperately didn’t want him to. This night felt unfinished. Incomplete. He started to turn away…

  “Wait!”

  He turned back with a questioning look.

  “My turn to make sure we’re on the same page,” she said. “This election is important to me, too, you know. I want to know that I’m not wasting my time.”

  He frowned. “You’re worried I won’t do what it takes to win?”

  “No,” she said slowly. “I’m worried you don’t want it enough.”

  His frown deepened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She shrugged, her gaze darting over this face that was so classically handsome. She’d watched him breeze through his childhood, swagger his way through high school. The man had spent a lifetime being revered and loved. Did he have any concept of what it was to work for something? To struggle and fail?

  A bi
tterness she hated made her mouth taste sour. He was waiting for her to explain, but she gave another shrug. “Just what I said. You worry so much about everyone around you, how can I be sure you’ll stick with this when the going gets tough?”

  He moved closer and she caught a glint of something dark that she couldn’t name. It made her shiver when he leaned down so he was only inches away. “You think you know me so well, Vanessa, but you clearly don’t know this. When I want something, I go for it. I don’t let anything stand in my way.”

  She blinked in surprise, her heart racing with every second that ticked by in silence. “And what is it that you want, Trent?”

  It came out too breathy and her heart thumped wildly when his darkened gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips.

  That was the only warning she had before he closed the distance between them and claimed her lips with his own.

  10

  The kiss flipped his world upside down.

  One minute he was a sane, rational man, and the next…he was lost. His mind forgot how to work as his body took over. Her lips were soft and warm, her breath a startled gasp that ended in a soft moan as their mouths collided in a kiss that was as passionate as it was sudden.

  His heart was thudding against his ribcage as he pulled her into his arms, the way he’d been dying to do since the moment she’d walked back into town.

  Her body was soft and pliant against his as she tilted her head, giving him more access to her mouth. Her lips met his eagerly until their breathing was ragged.

  The sound of a car passing on the road behind him brought the first flicker of reason. He pulled back grudgingly, his hands still firm against her back, loathe to let her go.

  She blinked up at him, those dark eyes beautifully dazed and filled with something so sweet it made his heart hurt. And then with a blink, it was gone. Replaced by a wariness he was far better acquainted with. She took a quick step back and gave him a tight smile. “Thank you for a lovely night,” she said. “I’d better get to bed.”