by Ellie Hall
But what if it wasn’t fake?
“And if you’re following that line of thinking, shouldn’t Sadie have to ask you for your blessing in her marriage to Tripp. Likewise, should I call him and ask permission?”
“Even if you did call, he probably wouldn’t answer.”
“What happened between you guys anyway?”
“What didn’t happen? It went from disagreement to an all-out civil war. Everything that had been bottled up or held back over the years erupted in one huge fight, resulting in all of us walking away. We haven’t spoken since.” That was all he wanted to say on the matter.
“Have you tried to reconcile?”
“I sent my twin birthday chocolates.” He explained the tradition then shrugged.
“That’s sweet but what about…Wait, I understand now. You’re hoping our fake marriage will bring everyone back together.”
Dallen staggered back. He hadn’t thought of that exactly. Was she right? He stammered, “I don’t want Tripp shouldering the responsibility of the corporation alone.”
“What about missing them? Brotherly love is a unique thing, surely not talking, hanging out, or teasing each other hurts some part of you.”
Every day. He’d nearly gathered the courage to say as much when his phone beeped with a text message. She was standing close enough that she saw the contact’s name. Chuck.
She reached for the phone. “What did you do?”
He held it away from her and tried to read the response at the same time. Early that morning he’d tried calling and left a voicemail then sent a message, having no idea where in the world Chuck was or if he even had his phone.
She continued to try to grapple for it then suddenly stopped. “If he’s texting that means he’s here, in the United States.” A smile lit up her face. “But did he miss Chloe’s wedding on purpose?” While she mused about what it meant, Dallen read the message.
Bro, it’s good to hear from you.
They weren’t brothers by blood but had maintained a good friendship over the years. Still, the word bro pricked a wound inside Dallen over the rupture in his relationships with his own brothers. One he wasn’t sure would ever heal.
I got your message and text. I’d call but I’m just back and taking some downtime. Let Kayla know I’ll be in touch soon but need to breathe before I see the rest of the family. From the sound of it, you’re acquainted. He he. It would be an honor for you to spend time getting to know her and taking a shot at making her happy. She’s a special girl but I don’t suppose I need to tell you that. Be well, man. Talk soon.
Dallen let out a relieved breath but something about the tone of Chuck’s text left him with concern. Being in the military wasn’t easy, to say the least, and he hoped his friend was okay.
“What did Chuck say? No, first, what did you say to him?” Kayla asked, drawing him from his thoughts.
He passed her the phone and she read his original note and Chuck’s reply. She stood there for longer than it would take to read the message.
“I’m sorry for going behind your back but I only felt it right to talk to him about it.”
“I guess we have his blessing.” Her voice was small, distant. Likely, she had the same concern for her brother that he did.
“If we’re going to fake get married, I suppose I have to propose.”
Her eyes widened.
“Don’t worry. I won’t do anything too outrageous, but uh, how did Bradley pop the question?”
“Oh, it was magnificent. He rode in on a white horse, dropped to one knee, and told me fifty reasons he loved and adored me. Then, suddenly, butterflies and doves flew into the air, drawing my attention skyward. An airplane wrote the words, Will you marry me? in the sky.”
“Wow. Really? Where did the peacock painting fit in?” Dallen asked. “I have four brothers so I know a thing or two about competition but that’s hard to top.”
“I was joking. Bradley said, ‘Hey, you wanna get married?’” Kayla said, doing a poor imitation of a guy’s voice.
“He was probably just doing it for the money and my health insurance at the time.” She scowled at him as though accusing him of a similar contrivance, given his father’s will.
“Kayla, does it look like I need money?”
“No. I don’t know. We’re in a barn.”
“No, even without the inheritance, I’m a very wealthy man.”
“Rugged and rich.” She snorted. “Then what were you doing it for?”
“Because—” But he still wasn’t ready to acknowledge his feelings or confess his fears—ones she’d somehow stirred up and brought to the surface during their short time together. Instead, he went back to tend to the horses.
As they finished cleaning up and fed Genesis and Jasper, rain pattered off the metal roof of the barn.
“I should get going,” Kayla said.
“Um, I was hoping you’d make those cupcakes you promised.”
“I forgot, it’s your birthday.” She softened.
“I’ve been meaning to build a covered walkway to the main house, but do you feel like running for it?”
“Getting wet?”
Before she could answer, he grabbed her hand, once more filled with a kind of heat and protection he couldn’t quite explain. Her hand was one he wanted to hold for a long time. They raced toward the house, getting drenched in the process.
Once inside, he gave her a towel to dry off.
She patted her hair and then held the towel in front of her. “Um, do you have anything dry that I could wear?”
Dallen went down the hall and flipped on the bedroom light. He took a deep breath, trying to diffuse the tension from earlier. It was all happening so fast and he wasn’t sure what was real or what was fake. He moved to cross the room and she cleared her throat, startling him.
“I didn’t realize you followed me.” He pulled open the custom closet door and said, “Have your pick.”
“Since I’ll be baking, how about something you don’t mind me getting dirty?”
Having her in his room filled him with heat, with desire, with something he’d managed not to feel for quite a long time.
“I have an apron.” His voice was practically a growl as he suppressed his longing to take her in his arms and plant his lips on hers.
“I’ll need to wear something under it.”
A cocky smile rose to his lips. “Interesting suggestion but I’m a gentleman and that wasn’t what I was suggesting.”
Her cheeks flushed and she smoothed her hair before brushing past him into the closet.
He left her to change while he started a fire in the hearth.
When she returned from his closet, she wore one of his plaid flannel shirts. She’d let her hair down to dry as well.
Sparks that had nothing to do with the heat from the kindling sizzled inside of him.
“I counted twenty-four shirts like the one you were wearing earlier.”
“It was just a guess,” he answered, referring to his comment about his plaid shirt collection at the rehearsal dinner. “There are probably more in the laundry.” He winked.
She rolled up the sleeves and said, “Shall I get started?”
“As long as you don’t mind two cooks in the kitchen. I’ll make dinner. You bake dessert.”
“You know how to cook?” she asked. “How domestic of you.”
“Someone has to wash my shirts and keep me fed.” He gave her a glass of water and got to work in the kitchen, preparing a simple and quick dinner after the long day. He fired up the grill, tossed together a salad, braised asparagus, and boiled potatoes.
“I came up tonight because it’s your birthday and now I have a wedding to plan,” she said absently.
“Ski instructor, waitstaff at my favorite restaurant, photographer, baker, and wedding planner.” He pulled out a couple of plates. “Do you still want to go through with it?”
“The whole thing is crazy but if I could just get my mother, Chloe, an
d everyone off my back maybe I can...”
“You can what?”
“I can—” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Be happy.”
“Are you unhappy?”
“No. Not exactly. Unsettled, I guess is a better way to put it. I have so much going on all the time sometimes I feel like I’m three people. It’s hard to focus. I think about simplifying but which to give up? I love the kids on the slopes, couldn’t give up bannock bread and the tips are pretty good…As for the photography, I studied it in college and have a good camera so it’s a shame to let that go to waste, you know? I just can’t help but think about the future.”
While she talked, he served them dinner, which they ate at the counter island. “Do you think marriage would solve your unsettled feeling?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Would you rather ski or serve food to locals and tourists?” he asked around a mouthful.
“What’s at stake?”
“Your future.”
“Then I choose neither.”
“The game isn’t called would you neither. It’s called would you rather. You told me I have to pick. So do you. Those are the rules. What do you want to do?”
“I’d rather bake. Cupcakes.” She went back to her recipe without another word. Helping herself to his cabinets and drawers, measuring and mixing, he watched her with unabashed curiosity. She filled the cupcake tin then put it in the oven. She mixed up the frosting ingredients then went around the side of the counter and held out the spatula for him to lick. She said, “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked, allowing his fingers to linger against hers as he took the spatula.
“What do you want?” Her gaze shifted from the spatula to his eyes then his lips as he took a lick.
The frosting was so delicious he moaned. Instead of complimenting her, he answered her question and told her what he really wanted. “I want to kiss you.”
Chapter 9
Kayla
Dallen’s honesty surprised her but the intensity between them did not. It had been simmering between them all day. The attraction grew steadily since she’d seen him in the truck stuck in traffic, then at the café, and finally at the rehearsal dinner. It intensified every time he’d opened his mouth to speak, when they’d danced at the wedding, and then in his house—in the dim light of his kitchen with the fire crackling in the background as his eyes held hers.
She let out a ragged sigh because she wanted to kiss him too, despite her personal history warning her against it. “You want to—?”
He carefully removed her eyeglasses and set them on the counter. Up close, his brown eyes were striped with gold. The muscles of his jaw pulsed, and the dimple in his smile was hidden by a look so intense, her breath caught. Seated on a center island stool, he gripped her waist in his hands. A thrill shot through her and he pulled her closer.
“I want to—” he repeated.
His eyes traced her face then stopped on her lips. He leaned in and his breath whispered across her skin sending shivers up and down her spine. She inhaled sharply when he didn’t make a move. The tension thickened between them.
Perhaps he was waiting for her to initiate the kiss or for her permission to move forward.
Her hands landed on his toned forearms, traveled along his firm biceps, and then wrapped around the roped muscles of his neck. It had been so long since she’d touched or been touched in that way, she felt clumsy and out of practice. She was awed by the power just beneath his skin, the way it surged through her in waves of desire. She tipped her chin up and met his eyes.
His mouth captured hers. No, he wasn’t waiting for her to initiate the kiss; he was punctuating the before and after.
Before: Kayla had been on autopilot, idling, stuck in limbo in her life, unsure what she wanted.
After: she wanted Dallen, completely, irrevocably.
The second his lips met hers the world tipped on its axis. It flipped over. Life as she knew it changed forever. There was no before. All she’d ever know was after.
Never had she felt the bold vibrancy of desire as she did within herself or coming from him. He ignited something inside of her, set it in motion, and there was no going back. She’d never be the same, not even if she never kissed him again.
Cells shifted. Molecules combined. Neurons collided. Her heart boomed in her chest. Her body was warm all over as though it was undergoing death and rebirth, imploding and exploding. Her hands grappled for anything fixed, something to hold onto. They found the bulging muscles of his back. He held her fast, his fingers spanning her low back.
Her entire world was changing so fast as his lips pressed against hers. Breathing became optional because somehow, she no longer needed oxygen. She felt alive and lit up and glowing from the inside out.
Throwing away inhibition and caution, she returned his intense desire. She didn’t care if it was fake or real, a test or a warm-up, she wanted Dallen and at least at that moment, he wanted her.
His hands gripped her back, pressing her closer as if that were possible, but when the kiss deepened, she realized they were just at the surface. That was just the beginning and they still had distances to go, places to explore, and treasures to discover.
Kayla ignored the nagging voice, the doubt, and the fears in the back of her mind. The past and future didn’t matter. Without her glasses, everything in the room was blurry except for him. And right then that was all she needed.
His lips on hers. Hers on his.
The life-changing kiss.
They pulled apart when the oven dinged to indicate the cupcakes were done. Kayla had come undone from the kiss and could hardly trust her wobbly legs to carry her a few steps away to the oven, press the button, open the door, and pull the tray out without burning herself. She moved slowly, deliberately, trying to catch her breath.
After setting the cupcakes on the counter to cool, he took her hand and led her to the sofa in front of the roaring fire.
She sat on the cushion and curled her legs toward her chest, not sure she could remember how to speak or carry on a conversation.
Dallen must have felt similarly because he wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close, and they watched the fire until the logs burned low.
“Hey, are you awake?” he asked.
“Mmm hmm.” She was but barely. She floated on the high of the kiss, the way he’d made her feel wanted, adored.
“It’s still my birthday. You suppose we can frost those cupcakes?”
As she spread the frosting on the cupcakes, he gripped her from behind and kissed the top of her head before cleaning up from cooking dinner.
She was as keenly aware of his presence at the sink as she was of the imprint he’d left on every inch of her skin that he’d touched: the heat across her hips, the blaze in her belly, and kindling in her chest, the little sizzles along her fingers, wrists, elbows, and shoulders, the pleasant sting on her cheeks from his scruff. The warmth on her lips from his.
Forget being just the Cute Cowboy. His lips made him the revolutionary rancher. He’d changed her forever.
She somehow managed to gather the cupcakes on a plate and set a candle in the middle one. If she’d tried, she was sure she could’ve lit the candle with her burning desire. Instead, she sang happy birthday to him.
Dallen ate not one, but two cupcakes, commenting on how they were the best he’d ever had. She savored the sight of him taking bite after bite. “You’re on to something here,” he said. “These are amazing and so are you,” he added before moving in for a second kiss, which was sweeter than the first but just as delicious.
His wink. His dimple. The way he was with the horses. With her. The kiss. The second kiss.
The next morning Kayla was reduced to the simplest thoughts that filled her with the deepest swoon.
She dug her phone out her bag, plugged it in, and then called Sadie because the kiss from the night before threatened to set her on fire if she didn’t figure out a way to dou
se the flames.
“You’re up bright and early.” Her friend and future wife of Tripp Hawkins sounded chipper and clear-headed.
When Kayla tried to speak, she croaked, cleared her throat, and tried again. “So, I, um, kissed—” She coughed.
“What?” Sadie asked.
“I rode a horse.” She swallowed, not actually sure she should talk about it with the fiancé of her fake fiancé’s brother.
“No, you said you kissed something. Someone. A horse? That’s weird. Tell me you didn’t kiss a horse, Kayla.”
Kayla went on to tell her friend about meeting the gruff guy in the café who turned out to be Dallen who turned into her fake date who then became someone who meant more to her than that but she wasn’t sure what and she wasn’t sure she could trust it.
“I leave for a week and look what happens,” Sadie said.
“Wait. Where are you?”
“I’m in Paris.”
“What? Don’t tell me you got married without me. If Chloe had eloped, fine no big deal, but I do not want to miss your big day. How did I not know this? Oh, right. I was sucked into the quicksand of my sister’s wedding plans.”
“Not to worry. We’re still planning. But speaking of marriage. Tell me more about your cowboy. Tripp rarely talks about his brothers.”
That she had no problem with and went on to explain how wonderful he was but she also highlighted the tension between the brothers.
“But you’re saying it’s a fake marriage?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if that’s what I want.”
“It doesn’t sound like you want out of the arrangement so I’m going to assume you want something more.”
Kayla sighed. She did but at her friend’s words, the voice of doubt and warning returned. Her real attempt at marriage had failed. What made her think one built on stories and lies would thrive?
Sadie informed her that she’d arrived at the dressmaker’s.
“Are you wedding gown shopping without me?”