by Box Set
It was more than a kiss to him, but he wouldn’t voice that and take them both down a path he couldn’t follow through with. Nate understood exactly what type of man he was to the core, the one you never brought home to Mom and declared “he’s the one.” No attachments were a necessity, and that’s why he stuck to one-night stands. He cared too much about Hannah to award her the usual notch on his bedpost.
He stared at Hannah and found her watching him just as intently. He grumbled. “I’ll call a truce on the kiss. Okay? I’ll even throw in an extra incentive by calling myself a jackass for cutting you off these past seven years, if you’ll agree to help me out.”
She rolled a purple crayon back and forth under her palm. “You have to tell me what you’re after if you want my answer.”
He shrugged, reached inside his jacket, and tossed the press release Jack had given him face down on the desktop. “Hopefully this will make what I’m about to say a little bit easier to stomach.” Flipping it over, he tapped one finger at the headline. “This…this is what I need your help with. I might have told my business partner I’d go along with his plan to call you my fiancée.”
She stared at him, both eyes widening in surprise. “I don’t remember you popping the question.”
Nate went into panic mode when her mouth fell into a frown, and he tried to shuffle out of the desk. Instead, he toppled sideways, catching his chin on the wooden edge. “You did not see that.” He righted himself, shaking out his jaw. “Like really. I think if people found out I got stuck in a peewee desk it could do major damage to my reputation.”
Hannah didn’t move, although he detected a faint smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
He cleared his throat. “So that favor. What do you think?”
“You want me to be your fake fiancée?” she asked, eyeing the press release. “No, this is crazy. We had a mishap that sort of spiraled out of control, but I think it should settle down soon.”
“Hannah, there’s press on our mishap.”
She squeezed the crayon between her fingers and groaned. “So you propose an engagement?”
“Ever heard the word adventure?”
Her upper lip twitched, and he couldn’t help but notice the cute little V pout. “Lying isn’t an adventure.”
Nate coughed. “We aren’t lying. We’re just skating the truth for a week.”
She lifted one hand to her ear. “Ding, ding, ding…you hear that?”
“No.”
“That’s Crazy Town accepting your new change of residency.”
Nate knew he had two choices, the latter not being his favorite outcome: losing. He turned up the charm on his smile and looked her directly in the eyes. “We can be klutz’s together, and I promise to feed you better than jarred peanut butter for dinner,” he said. “Will you change your zip code to fake-it with me, Hannah?”
Hannah’s gaze fixated on the press release. “Everyone knows I’m not your usual arm candy. Well, Business Weekly would claim any woman who reassembles a life-size Barbie could technically be called a Nate Fox CEO bunny. But that’s not me. I’m more of a Skipper, Barbie’s younger sister who no one really wanted to play with but kept around to keep the peace.”
That quick-witted comment instantly gave him a hard-on. Shootin’ straight and narrow here, huh, buddy? She always did have a self-deprecating sense of humor that made her even more appealing to hang out with. Fuck him. He’d missed her company.
He waggled his eyebrows. “Because we’re friends, I think you should know my zipper fly always saluted Skipper.”
Her head fell back on her shoulders, and her hair swayed against her chin, and he had to reprimand himself to stop gawking as if he wanted her to warm his bed. “Your allegiance toward Barbie and her friends has just won you a brownie point. Give me your spiel as to why I should agree.”
He smiled, even though she hadn’t agreed to be his future fake wife. “Okay.” He blew out a whistle. “The man I want to sign a business deal with isn’t too keen on my past indiscretions, porn shop incident included. So my partner told him you were my fiancée and we took our bedroom role-playing a little too far.”
“That’s some scheme you two cooked up. Watching a little too much Jerry Springer?” Her lips curved into a barely suppressed smile. “I don’t know. I like you, we’re friends, but aren’t there other options. Better options.”
His high hopes fumbled faster than a quarterback in the fourth quarter with two seconds left on the clock and sixty yards to the end zone. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at her. “I’ll do anything, whatever you want, just say you’ll play along for the next seven days. Until the ink has dried on the Urban deal.”
She ignored his comment and snatched a clipboard off the desk. “I’ve got to turn in my classroom roster from the day. Maybe since we both live in Austin now we could meet up for drinks sometime.”
But before he could question the abrupt brush-off, the door to her classroom burst open and she walked out on him. No way in hell would he let them end on another sour note. He needed Hannah to accept his fake proposal. No. He needed them to be fucking friends again. On that singular thought, he chased after the one person who could make all his dreams true.
His Urban Chopper deal with Chrome, that was.
When he reached the daycare front doors he stopped in his tracks at the sight of Hannah frozen ramrod straight on the porch and staring at a man standing at the playground gate entrance. The guy shoved a pair of wire-rimmed glasses up his round nose and dropped a box on the ground. He appeared non-threatening. Sort of. From the looks of it, the guy seemed to know Hannah and vice versa, although she hadn’t quite gotten around to introducing Nate to Mr. Tweed Sweater Vest.
Her shoulders stiffened.
Nate really didn’t fucking like the way nerd-jerk was looking at Hannah. He decided his best form of action was to barge in on their standoff. And— Oh, God, did Hannah actually just refer to nerd-jerk’s cock as a salami?
Yep, she had.
It was time to act.
She turned, noticing him watching the schoolyard quick draw, and it was absolutely the incentive he needed, although she beat him to the punch. Instantly she reached out and grabbed him by the arm, whipping her body into his. The questionable look he shot her didn’t seem to hinder her advance. She ignored the look, tugged their bodies closer, and looped her arms around his neck. Damn fucking inviting. The breeze picked up, and Hannah’s vanilla and lavender shampoo assaulted what was left of his sensibilities. He slowly caressed the pad of his thumb along the contours of her face and felt her shiver. “If you didn’t know by now that tangling yourself in a man’s arms might get you kissed, you should. I also think you should know that I’m not good at being tested. Normally I fail and give into my urges. Like me wanting to kiss you, now. ”
Her tongue darted out, then swept back inside, giving them a candy apple shine. “Just shut up and kiss me, Fox.”
And he realized he was going to heed her advice and kiss the girl. Kiss Hannah.
He slanted his head to the side, and the moment when her breath hitched he pressed their mouths together. Bubblegum-flavored glossed lips greedily mapped out a path between their mouths. Like a lightning bolt, his obsession to savor Hannah struck each one of his nerve endings. He tasted her hungrily. Wanted more. Ached to drown in his own stupidity, to forget his no-fraternizing-with-the-kid-sister rule.
Nate traced her full lower lip, leisurely dragging his tongue along the slight dimple in her mouth. She sighed and tugged at his hair, sliding her ankle up his calf. If she moved any more up his thighs, she’d notice his very sizable hard-on standing to attention. Well, fuck. His cock was definitely saluting real-life Skipper. A curly spiral of red hair fell from the black-and-white, polka-dot clip she’d fastened in her messy ponytail. He reached up and pulled it through his fingers, loving the small gasps of air escaping her parted lips as he placed openmouthed kisses to the corner of her mouth.
God, he
could devour her soft lips for days. On a curse, he broke the kiss. When he looked up, she seemed stunned. Like him.
Small fingers rubbed across his mouth. He groaned. “You ready to work that engagement magic?”
“Damn, heartbreaker, you drive a hard bargain.” He gave her a flirty grin. “What’s your angle?”
“I want an adventure.” She looked straight ahead as she slid into his side and twined their fingers together. “I also need to keep him at bay.”
They both turned and faced their unwanted company. Nerdy I-wear-flood-pants jerk pushed his glasses higher. Nate smiled. Flood pants grimaced. Yep, definitely DEFCON action was required.
“I don’t think we’ve met.” Nate kept a firm hold on Hannah as he stuck out his other hand. “Nate Fox. Hannah’s fiancé.”
Two thick eyebrows lifted in question, and Nate was left with his hand hanging in mid-air. “Fiancé, huh? But I thought you were the guy from the porn shop fiasco.” Henry squinted beneath his glasses, and his nose wrinkled in thought as he eyeballed Nate. “Yeah, I’m sure you are porn-shop guy. That was sudden.”
“Sadly, they told us what happens in porn shops doesn’t stay there, so we had to come clean about our engagement.” Nate looked the guy in the face, wanting desperately to give him a reason to call a plastic surgeon. “She wanted something less scientific in the bedroom, and I’m all about trying new and improved techniques.”
A tennis shoe kicked him in the shin. He hobbled from one foot to the other as he looked at Hannah. Yep, he’d pushed a hot button with her, but hell, something about her ex-boyfriend rubbed him wrong. And Nate had never been the sort of guy to stand down. He liked winning too much.
Henry adjusted his glasses and made a point to only look at Hannah. “I couldn’t get ahold of your new address, and I found some of your things still inside our apartment and thought I’d drop them off. I also thought we could talk. But it seems I’m too late.”
“Try three months too late,” she said.
The nerd-jerk grumbled. “We could’ve tried to work out our problems.”
“I think Hannah’s made it clear she’s done.” Nate stepped forward. “Now why don’t you leave?”
Hannah looked pointedly at Henry then Nate, what he could only assume was to soak in the pissing match. If they weren’t at a daycare, Nate would’ve clocked her ex-boyfriend in the nose. She could definitely do better than this asshole. Plus, he didn’t like the way those glasses slipped each time Henry copped a glance at her girls.
“Thanks for bringing my stuff by.” She pried her hand away from Nate and bent down to scoop up the cardboard box. “But we could’ve just skipped this awkward post-breakup meeting.”
Henry scratched his chin, still glaring at Nate, “Well, that’s it for me. I guess we’ll be seeing you at the wedding this weekend, Nate.” Her ex-boyfriend pushed his glasses higher up his nose. “Nice to meet you, Nate. Been a pleaure. ”
They watched Henry turn and walk back to his Prius. When the car sped away, Nate stepped aside and stared at Hannah. “That guy’s a piece of work. First he cheats on you—which by the way, if you ask me he needs a good fist to the jaw—and then he shows up here like you two are friends.”
“He was just being—”
“What? Don’t say it.”
Hannah pursed her lips. “Nice.”
“Smart ass,” he said. “You want to explain that kiss?”
She touched two fingers to her lips and blushed. Nate schooled his features, even though he felt slightly territorial by her subconscious move. Liked the kiss, huh? Me, too. Hannah dropped her hand, her soft, pink lips opening on a shocked O before closing again. “I wanted to give my shitty ex the middle finger, so I kissed you.”
He grinned. “I think you should know your lips taste like bubble gum. I liked it. They reminded me of my childhood.”
“How about we scratch old-time’s sake and shake on this fake engagement stuff?” Her eyes lit with interest. “A week tops, right?”
Not exactly what he had in mind. Instead of her being all swoony, he’d pulled a chick move wondering why that kiss didn’t flip her switch. Like it had his.
Check: one man-card coming right up.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yep.”
Something dawned on her face, the same something he’d witnessed in himself whenever he got an idea.
“I think I was wrong about your plan earlier.” Hannah butted her chest up against his, leveling their mouths millimeters apart. “This could work, you know? We don’t find each other attractive. You need to fix the screwup with your business deal, and it seems like I need a plus one to a wedding.”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “I never said I don’t find you attractive.”
“Fine, you didn’t.” She gave him that girl-next-door smile he loved so much. “But you did say I wasn’t the girl. That’s why you’ll make the perfect wedding date. You won’t try to get in my pants.”
If she only knew how hard agreeing to her terms was going to be.
He grumbled, feeling slightly irritable toward her comment. “So no to sexing it up? Got it.” He scratched his chin. “Anything else on the fake fiancé wedding agenda?”
“Don’t break my heart, okay? I know this thing between us…well, isn’t real…but don’t make me regret shaking on our deal. I already had to kick one douche cannon out of my life and I don’t really want a repeat.”
He placed his hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear not to fuck this up.”
“Got your phone on you so I can give you my address?”
“Sure.” He fished his cell from his front jeans pocket and handed it to her. A beat passed as he watched her type in her address before giving him back his phone.
“It’s a date.” Her face beamed as she lifted up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll see you at my apartment on Friday. We’re headed to the Hill Country, Fox.”
Then she turned and escaped inside the daycare, leaving him pleasantly confused. Yeah, she might have agreed to play his fake fiancée, and he should be thrilled. Mostly, he was. Although he knew without a doubt their Hill Country wedding weekend would test his willpower more than that time he went with Jack to the Alamo Draft House and they found themselves stuck in a Notebook movie marathon.
Chapter 3
Sliding one eye closed then the other, Hannah watched Nate morph into ate on the fogged-up mirror. She continued to vigorously brush her teeth, debating bitch-slapping the proverbial angel on her shoulder dishing out a disapproving glare. Agreeing to a fake engagement with Nate was right up there with that time she thought dog walking would be a good career move.
And, God, they’d kissed. At that moment all her silly little girl dreams had come true. Sort of. Well, if it hadn’t been initiated only as an opportunity to dig at her ex, it would’ve.
But Hannah had to admit the plan made sense. She would have gone to the wedding alone, because being a good friend sometimes sucked monkey balls, and felt pathetic sitting around all the happy couples. Now she could show up with a man on her arm, a devastatingly handsome man, smile and say the right things. Effectively proving to Henry and everyone else that she had gotten past his douchiness and she could stand on her own two feet.
Although the way her pulse skipped a beat around Nate could become problematic. But it didn’t matter, because the wedding was, well, it would not be a trip for romance. She didn’t do players. She had guy standards, and her main man wouldn’t have an allergic reaction to relationships. Period.
She spat toothpaste into the sink and reminded herself that she knew the type of man Nate was—commitment phobe, to the moon and back, with a revolving bedroom door that slapped the plastic-enhanced girls on the behind, commencing their walk of shame. So he was a safe bet to take to the wedding. Right, squeaky romance-free clean.
With a quick ruffle of her bedhead she pinned the messy curls into a bun, feeling invigorated to drive to the wedding with Nate, and pushed through the
bathroom door. A high-pitched squeal accompanied by cold milk sloshing down her tank top confirmed she ran into her roommate, and before she could divert another disaster a spoon whacked her on the cheek. “Did you just spoon whack me?”
The milk had started to dribble down her belly and into her pajama pants.
Oh. Joy.
Willow Green, health-nut yoga teacher and her roommate ever since Hannah had answered Willow’s room for rent ad in the newspaper, beamed a smile and made the spoon dance in the air. “Maybe I spoon whacked you. And maybe I asked an old friend to be my fake fiancé to my ex-boyfriend’s sister’s wedding. Did you even fill your brother in on this hairbrained plan of yours?” Willow mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. “It’s big-brother level needs-to-know alert status.”
“I don’t have to alert the family on every decision I make. Nate’s just watching my back at a wedding, okay?” Hannah slapped at the pesky utensil. “It’s no big deal.”
The spoon thwacked her cheek again. “Yep, I think I might have whacked you with a spoon.”
She sucked in air through her teeth, wishing she’d hid all the cereal spoons from her roomie.
“It was a mutual agreement. Besides, I wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for your awesome blow-up doll shopping spree idea.” She pried her soggy shirt away from her skin and copped a glance at the valley between her boobs. A single red Fruit Loop was hanging out in her cleavage. She plucked the cereal off her chest and flicked it at Willow. “Now I have to take a shower, and I’m already running late.”
“Say ‘thank you, Willow Green, for making my dirty dreams comes true,’ and I’ll be your wedding packing bitch.”
“He’s a friend of my brother, well used to be,” she pointed out. “Thanks to the little porno incident, not only will I be attending the wedding as a woman scorned but one with a rap sheet as well.”