I blinked. “I had nothing to do with that. It was all his idea.” I only encouraged him to go for it—mostly because I figured he was kidding.
“That was Travis’s idea?” Holly asked, eyes wide in surprise, but she was also clearly trying not to laugh. “I guess he didn’t realize how tough it would be. Those guys are amazing skaters, but put them on stage and everything falls apart.”
“So you’re warning me not to expect much?” She wasn’t the only one doing her best not to laugh—and barely succeeding. The image in my head of the nine hockey players attempting to dance onstage was amusing—and absolutely adorable.
“Fortunately, they’re all good-looking and rock hot bods,” she said, “so the women in the audience will be more forgiving. Plus it’s the thought that counts, and we still have two more weeks to go.”
“Well, if it wasn’t for you, there would be no show. I’m not sure they could’ve come up with something themselves.”
Holly’s ability to hold back her laugh failed this time. “You’re probably right, but it would have still been fun watching them.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Kelsey said. “Trent once participated in a bachelor auction to raise money for charity, and it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m still disappointed I missed it,” Holly said. “I would have paid a lot of money just to watch my colleague make a fool of himself.”
“An adorable fool of himself,” Kelsey amended, grinning.
Twenty minutes later, the girls left with their husband and fiancé. Both men strode out with huge grins, thanks to what Holly and Kelsey had bought.
Fanny and her cohorts had left a while ago.
Five minutes before I was due to go home, a text from Travis popped up on my phone screen. You okay for this weekend in Napa Valley?
Me: As long as you are. Sounds like fun. I like your friends.
Travis: I am. It should be. I do too.
I had to laugh at that.
Fanny was eagerly waiting for me when I arrived at her apartment. She wasn’t the only one. All three women practically drooled at the sight of me—like Pavlov’s dogs.
They made themselves comfortable on the tall chairs on the other side of the kitchen counter overlooking the living room. And while I mixed the cookie dough, Fanny shared more stories of Travis growing up.
No—they weren’t the kind that would leave him blushing, which was too bad. Who wouldn’t have loved to hear them? And yes, I was positive Fanny had tons of those stories to share.
These were the sweeter stories that melted your heart. Like the time he was ten and found some abandoned kittens. When he couldn’t convince his parents to let him keep them, he worked hard at finding them good homes.
They were the kind of stories that were supposed to cause me to fall in love with him.
Was I? No—but I could definitely see myself heading in that direction if it weren’t for the ticking clock on our fake relationship.
My heart pinched—not quite agreeing with me. Maybe that could be my next column for the paper.
Dr. Lovejoy,
I’m falling for my fake boyfriend—the guy who doesn’t commit to relationships. What should I do?
Except I had no answer—other than “Run!”
Sounded like good advice to me, although I was positive the paper would require something longer.
Run fast and far, a voice in my head not-so-helpfully suggested.
My heart pouted, clearly not on board with that advice either.
I’m not falling in love with him, I told myself.
I’m not falling in love with him.
I’m not falling…
My heart, being as stubborn as it was, laughed at me.
I guess the woman at the paint store had been wrong after all. I wasn’t scared of commitment.
Or maybe you’re falling for Travis because there is a ticking clock on the relationship, the know-it-all voice in my head said. You know exactly when it’s going to end.
“Mmm, the cookies smell sooo good,” Hazel said, eyeing the oven where a batch was currently baking. She was right though. The rich, chocolaty smell filled the air, setting our stomachs grumbling.
A few minutes later, as I was removing the cookie sheet from the oven, the apartment door clicked open. Travis entered the living room soon after.
He stopped short, his face betraying his surprise at seeing me there—which quickly morphed into something more heated.
“Hi,” I said as an unexpected awkwardness settled on my shoulders. I swallowed. “My oven’s broken, so your grandmother invited me over to make the cookies here.”
“And we’re the official taste-testers,” Abigail added, not noticing the tension that had sprung up between him and me like the electrical current just prior to a lightning storm…the prelude to something spectacular.
In three long strides, Travis was in front of me, his eyes dark. He grabbed the cloth from the counter and used it to remove the baking sheet from my hand, which he relocated onto the cooling rack.
Then his mouth was on mine.
And instantly the world around us was forgotten.
The dreamy sigh? No idea if it came from me or someone else, though the whimper was definitely mine.
Like a hungry man who hadn’t eaten in several days, Travis continued to consume me. Wow, who knew the smell of chocolate chip cookies could be such a powerful aphrodisiac? Maybe I could bottle the smell and scent the store’s air with it—to increase sales.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t result in strangers suddenly kissing each other. I mean, if that were the case, bakeries would be the new singles club.
“The way those two are going at it,” Abigail said in a loud whisper. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a great-grandmother in nine months.”
Someone laughed, but I was too preoccupied with Travis’s lips to figure out who.
“If you believe you can get pregnant from just kissing,” Hazel said, “it’s a wonder you had any kids at all.”
“I don’t know about that. Look at those two go.”
“Maybe if we leave,” Fanny said, “they’ll just do it on the kitchen counter. I’ve heard that’s big with kids their age these days.”
“Where did you hear that?” Abigail asked. Her eyes were wide if her tone was any indication.
“I’ve read it in a romance novel or two.”
“No one ever has sex on the kitchen counter in the books I read,” Hazel grumbled.
“That’s because you read thrillers,” Fanny said. “I’d be surprised if anyone has sex in those.”
“Maybe we should hose them down,” Hazel said. The other two women laughed.
That was when Travis finally pulled away. The mischievous gleam in his eyes? He’d also heard every bit of their conversation.
“I’d rather not be hosed down, thanks.” His hand slid to my butt and he gave it a quick squeeze. Thanks to the counter blocking the view, none of the women witnessed it.
“I didn’t realize you were coming over to bake cookies,” he said to me. He removed one from the baking sheet and took a bite of it.
The gazes of the women followed the cookie’s movement from the baking sheet to his lips as if it had been the only cookie there.
“Mmm that’s amazing,” he said around the mouthful.
Fanny’s smile filled her entire face. If there had been angels hanging around, they would have broken out into joyful chorus. But I suspected it had nothing to do with how great the cookie tasted and everything to do with Travis’s reaction. Maybe when she was younger, that was how you landed a husband, which would explain how the saying, “The way to a man’s heart was through his stomach,” came about.
Travis’s declaration was all Abigail and Hazel needed to hear. They each grabbed a cookie.
Not wishing to miss out, Fanny also bit into one. “Oh, gosh. I thought they were good before, but they’re like little bits of heaven when eaten right out of the oven.�
�
Abigail and Hazel hmm’d their agreement while still munching their cookies.
“Gosh, no wonder Travis is dating you,” Hazel said.
I glanced up at Travis in time to catch amusement and lust in his eyes.
Hot damn.
24
Travis
Emma and I stayed at Granny’s for dinner before heading to the youth center. Was I surprised to see Emma there when I’d shown up? Yes.
I also hadn’t expected to find her making cookies.
Another item to add to my list of things I hadn’t expected? The strange feeling I got seeing her in the kitchen with the freshly baked cookies in her hand. But it had nothing to do with the cookies…and everything to do with the intense craving to kiss her.
Right—that wasn’t the only urge I’d had. The other one I’d managed to keep from being obvious to everyone in the room by reciting my hockey stats from last season in my head.
Had I ever gone a week without sex or kissing a girl? Yes, lots of times. I enjoyed sex whenever it was available, but I wasn’t a manwhore. It wasn’t like I needed to fuck some chick on a daily basis.
Which was why I couldn’t explain the reason I had craved the feel of Emma’s lips against mine the moment I saw her.
“So you’re really okay about this weekend in Napa Valley?” Emma asked while painting the rainbow’s yellow stripe. I was crouched on the floor, working on a dolphin.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, for one, your friends don’t know that we’re not really dating. Or did you explain things to Josh?”
“Josh and Trent already knew. Josh was the one who made me think of you as a potential fake girlfriend.”
Her paintbrush paused on the spot. “What do you mean?”
“Josh figured the last thing I needed was for my fake girlfriend to fall in love with me.”
“Because that would be an awful thing to happen?” Her voice sounded a little strained but since there was no reason for that, I shrugged it off. Her gaze was still on the spot she’d been painting, her hand paused midair.
“Of course,” I said. “I mean the reason for having a fake girlfriend is to avoid having a real one.”
“Right. Guess I forgot that part.” Her voice was still slightly off, but she went back to painting the rainbow without sparing me a second glance.
“Do Kelsey and Holly know I’m not the real deal?” she asked after a few minutes.
I dipped my brush in the blue-gray paint. “I have no idea.” It wasn’t something I had discussed with the guys. Part of that was because I hadn’t originally expected the two women to actually meet Emma.
Suffice it to say, there were a lot of things I hadn’t expected to happen in the past four weeks.
I continued painting the dolphin.
“Did Josh or Trent tell you it’s a couples’ weekend?” Emma asked. “And since we’re not a real couple, maybe we shouldn’t go. It could get awkward.”
“Why would it get awkward?”
You know that look mothers get whenever they’re explaining something and the kid just isn’t getting it? Now you can appreciate Emma’s expression. “Are they expecting us to share a bed?”
“Aren’t we?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just because we’re pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend doesn’t mean I’m automatically sleeping with you.”
“Let me clarify something here. Are we talking about actual sleeping together or fucking? Because in case you’ve forgotten, we’ve already done the latter.”
Her lower lip disappeared between her teeth for a moment. “Both, I guess.”
“So you’re saying you don’t want to sleep or have sex with me?”
She shrugged. “It’s not that. It’s just I don’t know if we’re only going as friends, or if we’re keeping with the fake-couple act while we’re there.”
I straightened to my feet and stepped closer to her. “I don’t know about you,” I said hotly against her ear, “but I’d be more than happy to keep the act going while we’re there. For practice.” I ran the tip of my tongue against the shell of her ear. She shuddered as a soft whimper fell from between her lips.
And a smug smile slid onto my face. Score one for me.
I stepped away. “But there’s an extra bedroom, so you don’t have to sleep with me if you don’t want to.” And given that I wasn’t one for actually sleeping with a woman, that arrangement was even better.
“All right. Both the sleeping arrangement and practicing kissing work for me.” Her voice dropped for the next part, taking on a husky tone my cock highly approved of. “I can definitely use more practice.”
No—I was pretty sure she was already perfect when it came to kissing. But who was I to turn down the opportunity to do more of it if the occasion should arise?
We returned to painting the mural.
We’d been working on it for an hour when the door clicked open. Wes and Liam entered the room. “Hey, guys, what are you doing here?” I asked.
Emma glanced at them with no hint of recognition on her face.
“We came to check on you.” Wes inspected the mural. “Nice job. Looks like you have quite the career ahead of you once you leave hockey…between this”—he gestured at the wall, his mouth tugging up to one side—“and your stripping career.”
“Not all of us can be a brilliant-assed game designer,” was my not-so-witty retort. But he did have a point. I had no idea what I would do once I retired. For now, it wasn’t something I had to worry about. Much. “Emma, this is Wes”—I gestured at him—“and Liam, Kelsey’s brother. They both have offices in the same building as your store.”
A sudden understanding lit Liam’s face. “You’re the owner of that sex store?”
“It’s not a sex store. It’s a boutique that focuses on romance,” Emma explained. She did a great job of not rolling her eyes. She didn’t do such a great job keeping the same exasperation from her tone.
“But it does sell sex toys and adult movies, right?”
This time Emma wasn’t quite so successful at not rolling her eyes. “We have some, but I doubt they’re what you’re looking for. The store caters specifically to females.”
The disappointment on Liam’s face? Definitely genuine.
“Here’s an idea,” Wes said to Liam. “Find a girl—because, Christ, when was the last time you got laid?—and get her to watch girlie porn with you.”
“Ha, ha. You’re a real Dr. Lovejoy,” Liam said, shaking his head.
Emma stiffened next to me.
“Dr. who?” Wes asked, frowning.
Why did the name sound familiar?
“That’s the author of the weekly sex advice column in The SF Metro paper,” Liam said, paying more attention to Wes than to Emma.
“And the nominees for being in the worst possible relationship are Emma Lovejoy and Travis Hamilton.” Her words from last week reminded me exactly where I’d heard the name before. I swiveled my head at lightning speed to the side, checking her reaction to his words.
Wes laughed out loud. “If you’re reading a weekly sex advice column, you’re more hard up than I realized.”
“And when exactly was the last time you’ve been with a woman?” I asked Wes. “Of the three of us, I’m the only one who hasn’t been dealing with a dry spell.”
“Point taken,” Wes said, still smirking at Liam.
“If you two actually left your offices every now and then,” I said, “you might meet some women to hook up with.”
Liam folded his arms across his chest. “I leave my office all the time.”
“Right, but how many of your security missions have ended with you getting laid?”
At Liam’s silence, I added, “That’s what I thought. And you…” My gaze swung to Wes. “You spend your days and nights locked in your office, working on your games. Other than your computer-generated women, when have you actually hung out with a real one?”
All right—what I
really meant was when was the last time he’d had a good fuck? But for Emma’s sake, I edited what I was going to say. She looked traumatized enough at the mention of Dr. Lovejoy.
He shrugged.
“Right, that’s what I thought.”
“There is one woman I might be interested in,” Wes casually said as though merely discussing the weather. But I knew Wes. What might have sounded casual was the complete opposite.
“What woman?” Liam asked, eyebrow raised. “When have you been out of your cave long enough to see a woman?” He glanced at Emma. “Present company excluded.”
With a small smile, she nodded at him. A noticeable sense of relief washed over her.
“I’ve seen her around the building a number of times,” Wes said. “She doesn’t work there though.”
“You know everyone who works in the building?” Emma asked, her tone taken aback. She might not have felt that way if she knew he was the owner.
Realizing he’d almost revealed too much, Wes just shrugged. His shoulders were getting quite the workout with this conversation. “She’s often wearing scrubs, which tells me she doesn’t work in the building.” Nice save, dumbass. His building didn’t have a medical or dental office in it. “You know, white pants. Colorful tops with cartoon characters. That kind of stuff.”
“Slim brunette with straight, shoulder length hair, right?” Emma asked.
Wes’s eyebrows rose up his forehead. “That’s right. You know her?”
“You could say that. We both grew up in foster care and lived in the same hellhole for our final year in the system. But she doesn’t exactly trust men. And while she might come off as the kind of girl who’s only interested in having a good time and not settling down, that’s just her front.
“So if all you’re interested in is having sex with her, I suggest you find another woman to sniff around.” Emma stood a little straighter, doing her best to come off as intimidating, a protector of her friend’s virtue. Except with the streak of yellow paint smeared on her face, she sat more on the adorable side of the fence than the intimidating side.
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