The Hookup Hoax (Entangled Lovestruck)

by Heather Thurmeier

  Once Sawyer closed his door to the bathroom, she closed hers as well, then her bedroom door leading to the hall. When she was totally enclosed in her new space, she flopped back onto her bed and puffed out her breath, feeling as if she’d been holding it since she’d knocked on the door.

  Was this room really hers? All of this space to herself, for three months, seemed too good to be true. She had to share the rest of the apartment with Sawyer—a task she’d thought would be easy. But now, after seeing him again, she wasn’t so sure. Most likely she was experiencing the same shock anyone would at seeing someone from her past again after so long. There’d been a few moments when she’d caught Sawyer looking at her, studying her as if he was shocked by what he saw too. Surely, the way her heart pounded in her chest was a symptom of their reunion and nothing more.

  She could not, would not, feel anything for Sawyer. He was her brother’s best friend, her dating safety net while she got settled into her new life, and her boss. And after everything that happened with Sam, she’d sworn off playboy bachelor-types. She hadn’t met a woman yet who could reform a man like that, herself included, and she certainly would never let herself make that mistake twice.

  No, nada, nope. Gorgeous hunk of man-candy or not, he was off-limits.

  Olivia worked steadily until she was settled into her new room. The task took barely an hour, with her meager belongings. When she’d woken this morning on Aidan’s couch, she hadn’t had a single drawer to put her things in, now she had an entire room. Somehow her day had taken an unexpected twist, and here she was sharing an apartment and on the cusp of starting a new job. Things were finally getting on track.

  Her new bed called to her. She climbed into the cozy blankets and curled up with her novel.

  She startled awake as the book flopped onto her face, smacking the bridge of her nose.

  Rolling over, she set it on the nightstand then closed her eyes, trying to fall back into blissful dreamland, but her dry throat demanded she find water. Smoothing down her nightshirt, she wished it were a couple of inches longer. Of course, she could always pull on yoga pants and a sweater, but her trip to the kitchen would be quick.

  Peeking out into the hallway, Olivia listened for Sawyer. They might be roomies now, and had known each other for years, technically, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable wandering around nearly naked in front of him. The way he’d looked at her tonight, fully clothed, had been enough to send her heartbeat drumming in her ears.

  Light seeped from under his bedroom door. It was earlier than she’d expected him to call it a night, but he was a top dog at Sterling Enterprises and maybe he was one of those executives who got up at the crack of dawn to workout, so he went to bed earlier than most. That would explain the muscles.

  She crept down the hallway, curious about the rest of the apartment. Sawyer hadn’t given her the full tour of his place—their place—earlier, but she didn’t mind. She’d been too caught off guard by his good looks, his filled out and grown up body, and the sexy glint in his eyes when he’d welcomed her to pay attention to apartment details.

  Stop, she scolded herself. Friend zone only. No trespassing, remember?

  Past a tastefully appointed living room, which was far too put together to belong in a bachelor’s apartment, she spotted bright lights reflecting off a stainless steel fridge. She trailed her hand along the back of the couch as she walked by, stopping to stroke the throw blanket draped across the cushions. She couldn’t imagine a guy like Sawyer under a blanket like this in the evening, watching TV. The thought of Sawyer’s bare chest was enough to make her mouth go dry. Well, drier than it already was.

  Most likely the blanket had been put there just for looks. Not for long. She could already picture herself snuggled into the big armchair in the corner, bundled up in the soft, knitted throw, reading.

  Walking through the doorway, Olivia froze at the sight of Sawyer leaning against the counter, head tilted back while he chugged orange juice directly out of the container. A dribble of liquid escaped the side of his mouth and rolled down his neck.

  Olivia swallowed, salivating as if she’d been starving a week and had just been granted access to a Vegas-style buffet. She inhaled through her teeth, her breath skipping into her lungs.

  He startled, lowering the jug of juice. The liquid sloshed as he shook it. “Want some?” he asked, holding it out toward her.

  “No thanks. I need a glass of water.”

  He grinned then drained the rest of the container before tossing it into the recycling bin. “I guess I should start using a glass, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve had a roommate.”

  “Probably wouldn’t hurt, although you’re safe with orange juice since I don’t like it.” Or at least she didn’t like it last time she’d had it. Having just watched it drip down his body, she wasn’t so sure she felt that way anymore.

  “Glasses are in the cabinet to the right of the sink, on the middle shelf. Or if you prefer, there’s bottled water in the refrigerator.” He spoke as if he wasn’t uncomfortable sharing his space.

  She wished she could say the same. Eventually, she hoped to feel comfortable in this apartment, but she currently felt like a visitor spending the night. It was awkward to wander around as if she had a right to be there, like it was home.

  “I’ll grab a glass. I prefer not to throw out plastic bottles if possible. I usually have a reusable one with me, but I must have left it at Aidan’s. I’ll stop by his place tomorrow to pick it up.”

  “You’re not one of those crazy environmentalists, are you? You’re not going to throw red paint on my leather coat or anything?” He eyed her, clearly suspicious.

  Olivia rolled her eyes, mildly annoyed that he’d be more concerned about the safety of his jacket than the damage to the earth everyone contributed to. “Aside from ruining clothing and overstepping a few personal boundaries, there’s nothing wrong with people who believe in protecting our environment.” She sighed, trying to let her irritation subside. Just because she cared, didn’t mean she would force other people to care as well. “But no, I’m not one of them, so your leather products are safe.”

  Of course, people like Sawyer could make an effort and at least switch to reusable bottles and bags. She shrugged while images from the last five years flashed through her mind. “I’ve seen a lot in my travels and, as a whole, our culture is wasteful. I figure if I’m a little more conscientious, it can’t hurt.”

  Far from a saint herself, she wasn’t about to preach to Sawyer or anyone else about how they should live their lives, or what products they should consume or use. But when it came down to it, she tried to make choices she felt good about. After seeing how bad it was in other parts of the world, she felt privileged to be able to grab clean water straight out of the tap.

  Turning her back to Sawyer, she opened the cabinet and reached up to the middle shelf. She never really thought of herself as short until she had to perch on the balls of her feet to reach something, feeling the stretch through her entire body, like a yoga instructor. Just as her hand circled the glass, a cool breeze blew across her right butt cheek.

  Her exposed right butt cheek.

  Why did I wear a thong today? Couldn’t I take two seconds to put on pants?

  Quickly, she lowered her arm. As she did, the soft cotton of her nightshirt slid back over her rear, covering her. She swallowed hard.

  Did he see? Please be looking anywhere else…

  She turned, gripping her newly acquired glass.

  His gaze hit her right around the tops of her thighs then slowly traveled up the length of her body before settling on her eyes. Every nerve ending came to life under his scrutiny. His jaw muscle bulged as if he was clenching his teeth.

  Oh, he saw. Everything.

  “I…” she said, then closed her eyes while trying to think of something appropriate to say. Sorry I just flashed you my ass? Thongs, huh? Can’t depend on them for coverage!

  She bit her lower lip and f
orced her eyes open. She was a big girl. Surely she could face a minor awkward moment head on. Olivia met his gaze while pulling a quivering breath into her tight lungs.

  “I…”

  “I’m going to bed,” he said quickly, holding her gaze. His eyes sparkled in the bright kitchen lights, like the sun reflecting off the ocean. “I have an early meeting. Tomorrow, I’ll get everything sorted out for your new job and bring home any paperwork you need to fill out. You can start first thing next week, okay?” He stared at her for a moment before pushing off the counter and walking out of the room with what she thought was a sigh.

  Could’ve been a quiet groan.

  “Thank you,” she called weakly after him, thrilled for the change in topic, and for his chivalrous behavior concerning her wardrobe malfunction… until she realized that not only had her platonic, fake-boyfriend and roommate just seen her naked ass cheek—so had her new boss.

  Chapter Three

  Sawyer stopped the car and turned off the ignition in front of the cabin that had been his home during his middle school and high school years. A quiver of emotion bloomed to life in his chest, as it did every time he came to visit. When he’d lived there growing up, he’d been numbed to the sensation, but after living in the city for years, coming back home to the cabin was always a mix of sadness and happiness at the memories of his parents and the time spent with his grandparents.

  The cabin was a sprawling ranch-style home. Along the front façade, rows of windows looked out over the gently sloped lawn, dotted with trees. Inside, the cabin was quaint but comfortable, with most amenities a person could want—three bedrooms, a large living room with a fireplace to help heat the place in the winter months, and a kitchen his grandparents had renovated when they’d decided to make the cabin their full-time home. By far the best feature of the whole place was the deck out back that went right up to the water line of Swinging Bridge Reservoir.

  Not that he could enjoy the view of the lake like he had before the boating accident. Even after all this time, when he peered out over the water, he still felt sort of lost.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, facing Olivia. She looked pretty in a modest V-neck shirt that brought out the gold flecks in her brown eyes, and jeans so skinny they could have been spandex. Not that he minded. He loved knee-high boots over jeans and she was definitely rocking that look.

  She nodded and climbed out of the car. As she did, he noticed the lack of a panty line beneath her fitted jeans. Another thong?

  Shaking his head to clear the vision of her naked flesh peeking out from under her pajama shirt the first night in his kitchen, he joined her on the front porch. Now was definitely not the time for thoughts like that, not when they had a Sunday family dinner to get through. Not when he had a room full of family to convince his relationship with Olivia was real. And definitely not when he was supposed to be thinking of her in a strictly business arrangement kind of way.

  If only he could go back to that first night with her in his apartment and un-see her in that nightshirt, then things would be much easier. But, ever since he’d gotten a glimpse of her supple ivory skin, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, and somehow, those thoughts were starting to wander into dangerous territory—kissing, touching, longing.

  So tempting. So forbidden. So off-limits.

  “Is tonight going to be you and your cousin one upping each other to try to get the cabin? Should I say anything specific, or back you up in any particular way?” she asked, looking concerned.

  “No. Once Gran and Gramps told us how they’d make their decision, there was no discussion. There’s no point in trying to pitch our winning qualities to them. Our grandparents already know who we are and what we offer, and they’ll make the decision they believe is right. The only thing you need to do is convince them that we’re a couple, nothing more.”

  He slipped his hand around her waist, careful not to stray too low on her hip. She stiffened under his arm then peered up at him with nervousness in her eyes. He was taken aback by her closeness. If he bent down and she went up on her toes, their lips could meet somewhere in the middle for a kiss.

  A kiss he couldn’t allow to happen.

  A kiss he didn’t even want. Not really. No more than any man would want to kiss any beautiful woman. And she was beautiful.

  She rubbed her shiny lips together as if checking to make sure they were still fully glossed. They were, in a warm color that made him think of cinnamon and sugar toast. Would she taste like cinnamon and sugar? Sweet and a little spicy?

  She’s Aidan’s little sister.

  He forced his thoughts back into safe territory. Obviously, this whole situation had thrown his hormones into overdrive. He’d never lived with a woman before. Even in this strictly platonic, business-arrangement-only way, having her in his space all the time was getting to him, especially when she paraded around half naked. That’s all it was. A perfectly logical, guy’s gut reaction to seeing a woman’s bare ass in his kitchen. Nothing more.

  Confident he’d unearthed the reason behind his sudden interest in Olivia, he put the whole thing out of his mind and hoped they looked like a couple in love and not like a couple of idiots trying to pull a fast one. Gran was tough and sharp, and she wouldn’t be easily fooled. That was why they had to make this good. Believable.

  They’d agreed earlier that touching was fine as long as it was kept to holding hands, arms around shoulders or waist, or hands on knees. Absolutely no kissing or neck nuzzling under any circumstances. They would convince his family they were a couple with their words and body language.

  The door swung open and Gran yelled, “Sawyer’s here!” She drew in a breath, a grin spreading across her face, making her eyes twinkle. “With a girl!”

  “Gran…” His cheeks burned as he was pulled into the house, Olivia trailing after him. He didn’t remember it being so hot inside, but today it felt as if it was the surface of the sun. He slipped his coat and hers from their shoulders and hung them in the front hall closet while Gran pulled Olivia into the living room.

  She glanced back over her shoulder, mouthing the word, “Help.”

  He chuckled at her discomfort. At least he wasn’t alone in the feeling.

  Steeling his nerves for the onslaught of questions and teasing he knew was headed his way, he followed them into the living room. Olivia was already seated on the couch, iced tea in hand, sandwiched between Gran and his cousin’s wife Sophia. The conversation was currently on Sophia’s ever-expanding baby belly. She and Tyler were expecting their first in a few months and he wasn’t sure who was more excited for the impending arrival—the soon-to-be parents, or Gran.

  “Beer?” Gramps asked, handing him an unopened cold one.

  “Absolutely. How are you feeling?” Sawyer asked before taking a drink.

  Every time he looked at his grandfather, he couldn’t shake the image of him lying in a hospital bed, sick with the flu and pneumonia that past winter. Thankfully, Gramps was strong, and with a dose of meds and a little rest, he’d kicked some serious illness ass. That didn’t mean Sawyer could stop worrying that the outcome might be different next time.

  “I’m doing well. I’d be even better if you’d stop treating me like I’m going to wither away and die every time I sneeze.”

  “Fair enough.” He grinned.

  “How’re things with you?” Gramps asked, easing himself into the armchair in the corner.

  “Good. Keeping busy.” He took a swig of his beer, hoping it would help to take the edge off his nervousness.

  “Too busy, I’m betting. Just like your father,” his grandfather grumbled.

  “You should talk,” he quipped. Gramps had worked just as hard when he’d started the company. If Sawyer was anything like his father or Gramps, he could hold his head high and proud. A solid work ethic was not a fault.

  “Found yourself a girl. Pretty one, too.” Gramps tipped his beer toward Sawyer in a show of appreciation and t
ook a deep chug.

  “I did,” Sawyer said. There was no point in denying her good looks, but that didn’t mean he wanted to focus on them either. It was hard enough to ignore the stirrings she caused in his groin as it was.

  “Didn’t think I’d live to see the day you brought a girl home. She’s the Morgans’ girl, right?”

  “Yep, Aidan’s little sister.” Off-limits, remember?

  Aidan had gone so far as to call and lay down the rules concerning “fake dating” Olivia. Seemed he hadn’t forgotten how Sawyer had hurt his ex-girlfriend Tammy by choosing work over her, and he heard Tammy still wasn’t dating anyone because of the betrayal she felt. He wasn’t about to see the same kind of hurt happen to Olivia. Therefore, there could be no line crossing, no gray area dating, no just-one-time flinging.

  No groin stirrings allowed.

  If he didn’t follow the rules and ended up hurting Olivia, his friend had made it perfectly clear there’d be no friendship left. Aidan was more like a brother than a best friend, and there was no way Sawyer would risk losing another family member. He only had a few left.

  “She went and grew up all of a sudden.” Gramps clicked his tongue the way he always did when he saw something he liked, or hell, whenever Gran walked by. Old guy had the mind of a twenty-year-old.

  “She certainly did,” Sawyer said, eyeing Olivia. Rounded curves in all the right places, toned muscles, and a sexy spark of fire in her eyes—those things didn’t even resemble the girl he used to know. Everything about her oozed savvy, street smarts, and sensibility. And sex. Every toss of her long hair felt like seduction, tempting him, teasing him.

  Olivia still sat chatting happily with Gran, but Sophia was now puttering in the kitchen, putting the last few touches on dinner, no doubt. Gran and Gramp’s house might be the central meeting place for dinner, but no one expected them to cook a feast. Instead, they took turns and this time it was his cousin’s, which meant they were probably going to eat some kind of casserole and a salad. Sawyer didn’t mind. As long as he didn’t have to cook, everything tasted great. No one looked forward to his turn as chef.