Three Day Fiancee

by Marissa Clarke

  “Oh, good. There’s Eric,” Jane said, face lighting up at the sight of her fiancé, who was entering the room with a big guy with short hair and a blond woman…and—holy shit—Taylor Blankenship.

  Caitlin’s heart screeched to a painful halt in her chest.

  “Gotta go,” Jane said, tripping on her high heel as she scurried away.

  “Stop!” Caitlin called between clenched teeth.

  Jane didn’t stop, though. She only paused long enough to grin back over her shoulder and wink. “You’ll forgive me. I promise.”

  Like hell she would. It had taken her hours to get her shit together after finding Beau’s crate empty. Now this? It was like her heart was being jerked up and down on a yo-yo string. And she hated yo-yos. As a kid, she would tangle her string up every time into a hopeless mess, and this was no different. The ache in her chest knotted completely as she stared at Taylor, who looked better than should be legal in his tux. Why was he here?

  Heart pounding, she backed further into the animal display room, watching the group of painfully attractive people exchange handshakes and smiles with Jane. She’d said the one with the long hair was Chance Anderson. That was the guy Taylor was supposed to be flying for in Boston. Maybe Taylor was only here because his boss made him come. But Jane obviously had known he would be here and she hadn’t told Caitlin. The knot in her chest tightened.

  At that moment, Taylor looked directly at her and smiled. The impact was like she’d been kicked in the rib cage. She grabbed the doorframe for support. His smile had bowled her over from the very first time she’d seen it. Why, why, why was he here? This was going to make it worse. She’d half convinced herself the weekend that they’d spent together had been an anomaly, and if she ever saw him again, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Wrong. It was a big deal. A huge deal. And her traitorous body was totally ready to close that deal. When Taylor turned his attention back to the group, she resisted the urge to fan herself—or run like crazy to the nearest exit.

  Fiona came up beside her to peek into the ballroom. “Wow,” she whispered. “That man checking you out must be Taylor.”

  Caitlin didn’t answer.

  Fiona leaned closer. “He should come with a warning label. Caution: excessive exposure can cause heart palpitations, confusion, nausea, and in rare, severe cases, spontaneous panty combustion.”

  “Fiona!” Caitlin gasped.

  Fiona flitted her a glance, then said, “I’m shy, not blind.”

  And she was also funny. Caitlin had always loved her unexpected sense of humor.

  More people filed into the room, and the Anderson group, including Taylor, moved to a table at the far right corner directly in front of the dance floor. At least he wasn’t coming over to talk to her, which should have brought relief. Maybe it had. She couldn’t tell if that sinking feeling in her belly was relief or disappointment.

  Taylor didn’t sit at the table with the Andersons, though. Instead, he went to a point Jane indicated against the wall opposite her and winked.

  Shit.

  “Wanna help me label these crates? We’ll have better results if the animals have names,” Fiona said.

  “Sure.” Anything to get her out of the direct path of smiles and winks.

  The animals were adorable. Seeing them would certainly help to raise money for the new shelter. Fiona reached into a carrier and put a large, blue parrot on a perch in the corner. “This is Hyah,” Fiona said. “She’s a Hyacinth Macaw.”

  “Fiooooona,” the bird squawked.

  “She’s a quick learner, too. Don’t swear in front of her or we’ll never be able to place her.”

  Caitlin loved the vivid yellow and blue feathers, but the bird’s volume would make it a definite no for her as a pet. “Hiya, Hyah.”

  “Pretty bird,” the bird said back.

  By the time Caitlin and Fiona had labeled cages containing seven adorable puppies in that fun, playful, alert stage around four months old, four kittens, a ferret named Alastair, and a couple of grumpy chickens named Hortencia and Maude, Jane had taken the mic on the stage and had begun the opening announcements.

  Caitlin went to the doorway to watch. Fiona staked out a chair in the corner of the animal room in her pink, flowing ball gown that looked frivolous and a bit dated, like it might have been her high school prom dress. It probably was, since she avoided any kind of event like the plague. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings, intensely focused on the game on her phone. Caitlin wished she had something that distracting so that she wouldn’t be tempted to stare across the room at Taylor every few seconds. The worst part was that every time she looked over, he was staring right back, making her mind return to their time in the cabin together, which made her whole body go wonky, which sucked.

  “Again, I thank all of you for coming out for such an important cause, and we’ll be coming around with wine to loosen you up for the dance floor—and to loosen up your pocketbooks,” Jane said before stepping away from the microphone at the front of the band stage. After some applause and laughter, the band started up with music to accompany dinner.

  Smiling at people as she wove through the tables, Jane joined Caitlin. “Fiona needs to stay with the animals in case anyone has questions. I guess you’ll have to collect all of the donation cards by yourself.”

  Caitlin scowled. “Make Taylor Blankenship do it.”

  Jane let out a long-suffering sigh. “You’ll be part owner once we’re ready to buy the Andersons out. You need to hobnob and meet the donors. He doesn’t.”

  Servers walked between tables with plates of food, while others filled wineglasses. No biggy. All she had to do was pick up cards as they were completed, introduce herself, and smile. Oh, and avoid the man on the opposite side of the room.

  Her eyes shot up to find Taylor staring at her, causing her heart to lurch. Her black, strapless gown felt too tight and she cursed herself for wearing her hair up. The air blowing across her chest, neck, and shoulders made her feel exposed, when she wanted to be shielded and protected.

  “Chill,” Jane said. A server walked by with a tray of wineglasses and she snatched two. “Here.” She handed one to Caitlin. “Loosen up. You look like you swallowed a bug.”

  “I wish I could smash someone like a bug right now,” Caitlin grumbled under her breath as she raised the glass to her lips.

  “He’s a great guy, Caity.”

  “I’m not talking about Taylor. I’m talking about you. Why didn’t you tell me he was going to be here?”

  “Why? So you could run and hide like a chicken?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  Her friend took a sip of wine. “Then, there’s your answer. Besides, you’ve already run like a chicken. Both of you have.”

  Caitlin narrowed her eyes. “Was Fiona in on this?”

  “Of course.”

  And she hadn’t told her. Talk about being a chicken.

  “I’m going to work the room. Wanna come?” Jane asked. “If we make a deal out of donations as they are pledged, others might be inclined to join their tablemates. Pushy, but it works, according to Will Anderson’s wife, Claire, who does fundraisers all the time. I think it’s far preferable to an auction of any kind because of the hassle of securing auction items.”

  And the noise. A live auction would have been a nightmare with the headache Caitlin had coming on. She tipped up her glass and finished off the merlot just in time to grab another from a passing server.

  Jane arched her brow.

  “Anti-chicken potion,” Caitlin said, staring across the room at Taylor, who looked away unexpectedly, then strode to the entry door where his grandmother and a woman about Grams’ age entered, dressed in long gowns with sparkly jackets.

  Perfect. Freaking fantastic. She took another swallow of wine and saluted Taylor with her glass as he nodded to her on the way to the Anderson’s table with a woman on each arm.

  “You have to go say hello, you know,” Jane said. “You want to.”


  “How am I supposed to do that when the last time I saw his grandmother I was pretending to be engaged to him?”

  Her friend rolled her eyes. “By putting one foot in front of the other.”

  “I’d like to put a foot to your backside, Jane.”

  “He told me he’d promised to work the event in exchange for your pretending to be his fiancée.”

  Yeah, but she’d intended for him to lug heavy stuff and shovel animal poop, not stand around looking all…perfect. Her fists balled at her side. “I told him he was off the hook.”

  Jane’s voice was soft. “He wanted to see you. So did his grandmother. There’s no way I was going to say no.”

  Her heart flipped over in her chest. She figured he’d never wanted to see her again when he’d dropped Beauregard off at Animal Attraction.

  “Who’s the woman with Grams?” The woman with short hair and thick, oversized glasses was laughing and talking and all grins with Taylor, who smiled right back at her. And Caitlin realized she wanted him to smile at her again. Pride be damned, she wanted to talk to him. She’d…missed him, which seemed ridiculous. They’d only been together a few days and apart for a week.

  “I have no idea who she is,” Jane said. “Hopefully she loves animals and brought her wallet.”

  A couple at a nearby table motioned Jane over and handed her a donation card. She and the women hugged, then Jane sat in the empty chair next to the couple and visited with them while they ate. At least Caitlin was spared a turn of the room with her friend right now while she was so on edge.

  She glanced around, intentionally avoiding the man on the opposite wall. She wasn’t going to look. Nope. Not even a peek. Wasn’t going to look no matter what… But then she did, and her eyes met his dark brown ones, and it was as if she’d been electrocuted. Crap, crap, crap. Why did he have that effect every single time?

  And then she remembered the story he’d told at the cabin about when his grandparents had met. Grams had said it was like a lightning strike that short-circuited her brain, making it where she couldn’t think of anything else but him. It had happened immediately—at first sight.

  Her breath caught as he arched an eyebrow in question. He was leaving the ball in her court. He wasn’t following her around or pushing her. He was waiting for her to decide whether to interact or not. Because he wasn’t trying to control her. He was trying to communicate with her. And that was the real attraction for her—well, the great sex wasn’t a burden—but the thing she liked most about him was…him. He was open and fun and made her feel all the feels. Like those ricocheting around in her chest and other parts right now.

  “Okay,” Fiona said from beside her in the double wide doorway. “If you don’t go and talk to him, I’m going to have to call the fire department. The looks he’s giving you are going to light the place up in flames.”

  Yeah. Pulling the fire alarm and running like hell was a great idea.

  “Seriously,” Fiona said.

  Right.

  So, after a deep breath and quickly chugging the rest of her wine, Caitlin headed toward the handsome man on the opposite side of the room, hoping to not get fatally struck by lightning in the process.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Taylor knew the exact moment Caitlin had made up her mind to stop listening to logic and go with her gut. A woman in a pink dress with dark hair said something to her, and she stopped breaking eye contact. After polishing off her wine, she met his eyes directly and took off in his direction. Thank. Fucking. God.

  But then, something happened. The dark-haired woman jumped and pointed, calling to Caitlin, who stopped dead in her tracks.

  Taylor tensed all over as he studied the two women frantically speaking to one another. Something was wrong.

  All around them, servers were clearing tables and delivering desserts, champagne, and coffee. On the stage, Jane tapped the microphone, and it whistled, the feedback causing some reaction at the tables. Still, Caitlin and the other woman talked, looking around the room like they were under attack or something. Taylor headed toward the back and circled toward them behind two pamphlet-strewn tables with no chairs.

  “Thanks again for coming to our first Animal Attraction Pet Adoption fundraiser,” Jane said.

  Taylor picked up the pace as both women crouched down to peek under a table.

  “We hope you will pick up some literature about our project on the back tables and tour our petting room to meet some of the lovely animals that are being cared for at our sister facility, Eden Farm, in Warren, New Jersey, until they find their forever homes.”

  By the time he got to them, both women were on their hands and knees, halfway underneath one of the empty tables. For a moment, he simply stared at the ball gown–clad backsides sticking out from under the long, white tablecloth. The one in black was particularly fine, and he couldn’t help but grin. “Everything okay?” he asked, squatting down and lifting up the tablecloth on the other side to peek under.

  With a squeal, both women flinched, the one in the pink dress smacking her head on the bottom of the table. Wiggling out, both shot to their feet.

  The woman in the pink dress looked him over everywhere but his face, then whispered to Caitlin, “Oh, yeah. Definitely call the fire department.”

  Caitlin rolled her eyes. “This is Fiona Nichol, one of my best friends and the vet at Animal Attraction,” she said before gesturing to him. “Fiona, this is Taylor Blankenship.”

  “Hi,” Taylor said, shaking Fiona’s hand. She had a firm shake, but didn’t make eye contact.

  Caitlin, still visibly shaken, tugged up the front of her strapless dress and frantically searched the room for something. He’d imagined her face over and over during the past week, and he’d not even come close to how pretty she was in real life. Her blond hair was pulled up, revealing her long, kissable neck. She looked refined, well, as refined as one could look after crawling around under a table.

  “Everything okay?” he asked again.

  “Um…” Caitlin leaned down like she was checking to see if a bathroom stall was occupied.

  “We lost Alastair,” Fiona said.

  “Fiooooona!” someone screamed from the room nearby.

  The woman ran to the doorway of the room from which the scream had come. “Crap. The kittens are out, too.” She pointed at Caitlin. “You find Alastair.”

  Meanwhile, up onstage, Jane was still talking about where donations would go and what kind of animals would be handled as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Maybe nothing really was out of the ordinary.

  “Who is Alastair?” he asked Caitlin as he followed her to the back of the room.

  “He’s a ferret.”

  “A ferret,” he repeated.

  “Yeah. A brown and black weasel thing. Long hairy body. Beady eyes. Super fast.”

  Okay. That was definitely out of the ordinary. A swift weasel running across people’s toes would not go over well, especially if it made it to Grams’ table. She nearly melted down when a mouse was in one of the cabins several anniversary parties ago.

  “There!” Caitlin struck out to the other side of the room.

  “Do you have a plan?” he asked, right on her heels.

  “Catch it?”

  Well, that was a plan, he supposed. Zipping from under a table in the middle to one on the outside, the ferret was no more than a flash of fur, but so far, the guests were focused on Jane at the front of the room. The thing stuck its head out from under the tablecloth, looked right at Taylor, as if in challenge, then darted to a different table. Oh, yeah. This had disaster written all over it.

  Something crashed in the animal room. “Fiooooona!” a voice screeched.

  Just then, the ferret dashed under the empty table closest to them. Caitlin motioned for Taylor to take the opposite side. After a moment, she held up three fingers and did a countdown. On three, they peeked under the tablecloth. Alastair stood up on his back legs and made a weird chirping sound. Caitlin nodded, and
they got on all fours and inched closer, creeping toward the creature in the middle like a scene out of a ridiculous cartoon. No way was this going to end well.

  With a trembling hand, she began to reach toward Alastair, who dropped to all fours and made a weird series of sounds like a roulette wheel. Christ, Taylor hoped the thing didn’t bite. He held his hands out to either side to cage Alastair in as Caitlin inched closer, clearly intending to grab him.

  Taylor held his breath. He was pretty sure Alastair was holding his breath, too, as Caitlin scooted forward on her knees in her long, strapless dress, hand still extended. Light peeked in under the floor-length tablecloth in a circle, illuminating the three of them just enough for him to clearly see when she reached for the ferret, but her dress didn’t go with her. The scene had gone from something out of a cartoon to something out of his wildest dreams.

  Alastair squeaked and bolted out from under the table, Caitlin made a muffled shriek and fell forward, almost knocking him over, and Taylor simply laughed. He couldn’t help it. And to his relief, Caitlin started laughing too as she wiggled and writhed, trying to wrestle her dress back in place while lying on it. She rolled to her side and yanked the top back up, but not before he got an eyeful of her pale breasts with the rosy nipples he remembered with absolute accuracy. His entire body went hard. Thank God they were underneath a table and nobody could see them—which brought to mind all kinds of possibilities.

  “Alastair one, Caitlin zero,” she said, rolling to her back under the table, breathing heavy and still clutching the top of her dress.

  “Don’t forget me,” he said. “I scored a point there, too.” Still on his hands and knees, he arched an eyebrow. “Maybe two points.” And he’d like to score a whole lot more. He was with her again, after thinking he might never see her. And the best part? She hadn’t told him to get lost. Yet.

  Jane’s voice drifted in under the tablecloth as she thanked people who had covered expenses for the evening’s event while Taylor and Caitlin stared at each other in the circular slip of light. He wanted to touch her, but didn’t want to screw up. Jane had let him know what was hanging Caitlin up after she’d texted asking who the hell Felicia was. He had to play his cards right.