by Jody Holford
When she’d crawled into bed the night before, she’d promised herself she wouldn’t get so caught up in their ruse she let it feel real. She’d enjoy her chance to get her hands, and her mouth, on Owen, and then be fine when it was over. Gabby had already fallen too hard for the wrong guy before. Roger, an artist she’d met at a gallery, had ended their eight-month relationship by dumping her in the lobby of her building, loudly, with other residents, including Owen, looking on. After they’d broken up, she’d said she wouldn’t make herself into something she wasn’t for anyone, ever again.
Which was what made being with Owen so easy. He liked her as she was. And she wouldn’t be blindsided. With Owen, she was fully aware her feelings were unrequited. It was surprising he hadn’t slugged her in the arm when he’d said he loved her or spit on his palm to seal their deal.
Gabby realized Owen was still texting her and shook her head, clearing her thoughts. He’d sent a bunch of question marks. She quickly typed back: Never mind. I’ve got this. See you later. She put her phone away so she wasn’t tempted to stare at the word “sweetie.”
She’d be fine. Everything would work out okay. She’d rather give being Owen’s pretend girlfriend her all than miss out on the chance. Better to be broken inside from trying than whole on the outside, hiding behind her fear of rejection.
Gabby pulled the crimson shirt from her bag and quickly changed out of her plain, button-up blouse she’d arrived at work in. She wasn’t really into going out on a date tonight, but she didn’t want to sit around wishing she had tried. Andrew was a nice man, a successful college professor with his own home, and he was handsome. Even before Min’s insistence, Gabby had decided she needed to make a serious effort to find someone to take Owen’s place in her heart. Not as her friend—he’d always own that piece. But she couldn’t keep lusting after him knowing he’d never feel the same.
She leaned closer to one of the mirrors in the staff bathroom and added some color to her eyes. In the low lighting, she darkened the corners of her eyes to give them a somewhat smoky appearance and tried to remember the last time she’d dressed up. It had been a while. She’d turned down date requests more than once to spend the night at Owen’s eating Chinese food out of the carton and watching movies. But Min was right, she needed to give this a go. Maybe tonight would be wonderful and it would alleviate the pressure taking up full-time residence in her chest. Laughing to herself at the ridiculousness of thinking she’d get over Owen that easily, she packed up her makeup, threw her shirt in her bag, and walked out of the bathroom. Right into Owen.
Gabby squealed and dropped her bag. Owen gripped her shoulders, a startled laugh erupting from his chest. His smile was warm and soothing. “Hey. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She shook her head, trying to laugh it off. The heat of his fingertips pressing into her skin was like little spots of fire. He looked down, moved to grab her bag, but stopped, stepped back, and looked her over from head to toe. She’d stowed her flats and worn heels. Hopefully she wouldn’t end up on her butt on a patch of ice.
Owen gestured to her, his eyes a little wide. “What are you…what are you wearing?”
Gabby retrieved her bag, pulling it onto her shoulder. Min had left a little while ago and security was strolling around somewhere, but the building seemed alive, despite the quiet, now that Owen was there.
“I’m wearing clothes. Seeing as you’re dressed, you must be familiar with them.” He followed her when she walked to her desk, where she’d left her jacket hanging over her chair.
“Ha-ha. You look good. Like, really good,” he said, his voice low and his tone puzzled. Gabby put her purse down, grabbed her jacket, and faced him as she pulled it on.
“Thanks. I do dress up now and again, you know,” she said, teasing. Though, when she had to, she usually went for her simple black shift dress.
He stepped closer and Gabby’s breath caught. “You don’t usually wear so much makeup.”
Butterflies took off inside her stomach. “You think it’s too much? I have a date.”
Owen’s mouth opened and then closed. It would have made Gabby laugh if she could find enough air to breathe. “You have a date? With who?”
Was she imagining the surprise in his voice? She buttoned up her coat, her fingers feeling clunky. She kept her eyes down so he couldn’t see her hurt. “Yes. Imagine that, someone asked me out. No need to alert the media. It happens now and again, you know.” I just usually say no in favor of being with my idiot best friend.
Owen’s fingers tipped her chin up. Jesus, it was like his fingers were little heat pads, sending sparks through her whenever they connected with any part of her body. “Gabby. That’s not what I mean. At all. I’m sorry, I just…” He dropped his hand, but he didn’t back up, so Gabby was forced to continue breathing the scent of him. He ran his hands through his hair, his glasses slightly askew. “I’m just surprised. Not surprised you have a date, because you’re a beautiful woman. I just…I had my own surprise planned.”
If she’d been unable to breathe before, she was near to hyperventilating now. He’d just called her beautiful. And she wasn’t even dreaming. Her voice came out as a squeak as her heart twisted with the happiness of hearing those words from his lips, and the sadness of knowing he meant nothing by them.
“What surprise?”
His lips pressed into a frown before he asked, “Who are you going on a date with?”
They stared at each other and she knew, from previous experience, that he could hold out longer than she could. She sighed. “Just a professor. Holiday house party. No big deal.”
Owen laughed, but it sounded forced. “It’s kind of a big deal. I mean, you are technically cheating on me. For pretend.”
Gabby froze and her face must have registered shock, because he nudged her shoulder. From sexy to shoulder nudging in forty seconds flat.
“I was joking, Gabs. Though I’m kind of hoping you don’t have any dates planned for the next week or so. I may like to keep my private life private, but my family knows me well enough to be sure I wouldn’t go for an open relationship.”
Gabby’s heart ripped like paper. She didn’t want to date anyone else. She wanted him to want her. She wanted this to be real.
“No. No dates. I’m all yours.” Even if you have absolutely no idea. “You know what, I made this date before any of this. I actually forgot about it until Min texted me last night. I’m going to cancel. It’s a house party, so it’s not that big a deal.” Though Andrew had tried to get her to agree to dinner first and she’d said no.
She expected Owen to bluster, assure her she should go on her date, and say they’d hang later. If one of his guy friends had a date he’d forgotten, Owen would have brushed off their plans. No big deal. “Yeah? You sure?” He smiled at her, and her heartbeat kicked back up.
She nodded. “I’m sure. What’s my surprise?”
Owen turned and gestured for her to go first. They walked to the front of the building. Security would set the alarm later, but she locked the doors, pulling on them to be sure. The wind had picked up and the sky was denim dark.
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise,” Owen said. He opened the passenger door of his truck, but didn’t close it after she was in. Instead, he stood there, looking at her. He reached out his hand and his thumb trailed down her cheek. Shivers followed. “You really do look beautiful. You sure you’re okay giving up a hot date in favor of hanging out with me?”
She wanted to close her eyes and lean into his touch. “Yup.” She hadn’t meant to whisper.
Almost in slow motion, Owen leaned forward and put his forehead to hers. This time, she did close her eyes. Listening to the sound of their mingled breaths, she felt hyperaware of everything. His breath fanning her lips. His scent. His touch.
His lips.
If she just leaned forward a tiny bit… She opened her eyes to see Owen staring at her, the rim of his glasses resting against the bridge of her nose.
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“You’re the best fake girlfriend a guy could ever ask for,” he whispered. He pulled back and rounded the hood of the truck. Gabby’s breath whooshed out of her lungs and tears stung her eyes. When he climbed in and started the truck, he grinned over at her like an excited kid.
“Time to show you what a great phony boyfriend I can be,” he said.
Gabby laughed, but absolutely nothing about this moment felt funny.
Chapter Five
For the second time in two days, Owen was nervous in Gabby’s presence. He hated it. He was also extremely aware of how great she smelled, how sexy she looked with her eyes done up like some Hollywood movie legend. He felt like his tongue had lodged in his throat when he’d seen how she was dressed. And knowing how she tasted made it that much harder to keep his mood light and fun. They walked into their building through the downstairs parking garage in silence.
What the hell was he doing? He’d almost kissed her when she’d gotten in the car. He’d wanted to so badly, he’d clenched one hand into a fist until his fingers dug into his palm painfully. He didn’t understand what was going through his head, or happening in his heart, but when she told him she had a date, he’d wanted to punch something. Twice in one day. At least she didn’t have a date with Jake. He shuddered at the thought.
“You okay?” She leaned against the wall, closer to him in height with her heels on.
“Fine. Just hoping you like your surprise.”
“I’m sure I will. Listen, do you mind if I change first? No point in being dressed up for a night at home, right?”
She’d assured him, even as she was calling her date to cancel, that she didn’t mind the change in plans. Owen had been surprised by the level of relief he felt when she said she’d bail. It was nice she didn’t feel the need to dress up around him, but seeing her this way made him think he’d taken her a little for granted. Even good friends should go to some trouble for each other now and again.
“Owen?” She waved her hand in his face, smiling at him. “Hellooo?”
He laughed and grabbed her hand, meaning to keep it away from his face, but their fingers linked and he held on, lowering their hands between them as the elevator doors slid open. “No. I don’t mind.” They walked to her door, hand in hand, with Owen feeling something odd that he couldn’t explain. Her hands were like silk. They were delicate and fit perfectly inside his own.
“Gonna need my hand back, O,” Gabby said when they got to her door.
His neck warmed and he practically snatched his hand back. “Right. Sorry. Just, uh, practicing, you know?”
She looked up at him. In her heels they were practically eye level. The dark coloring around her eyes was enough to put him in a trance. He could get lost if he let himself.
Her forehead creased. “Right. Well, we can resume practicing later. I’ll be over in ten, okay?”
He nodded. Even when she shut the door, he continued to stand there for a second, staring at it. He heard a slight thud, almost like she’d plunked herself back against the door when she’d closed it. He smiled. Nah.
All this pretending had him imagining things.
On his third turn-around from his front entryway, down the small hallway, into the living room and back, Owen realized he was pacing. His parents’ impending visit was making him crazy. As was the reminder of Gabby’s eyes and her lips up close. She knocked on the door just as he stopped in front of it. She didn’t usually knock. He swung it open to see her dressed like she usually was: black lounge pants, no socks, and a T-shirt that read: I’m not forgetful, I’m artsy.
“Hey,” she said, smoothing down her hair. She’d washed the makeup from her face, and though he’d liked it, she was every bit as pretty without.
“Hey, yourself. Why’d you knock?” He stepped aside, closing the door behind her.
“Wasn’t sure what the surprise entailed, so it seemed safer. Why’s it so dark in here?” She started moving down the hallway.
He grabbed her arm to stop her. “Wait. I want you to close your eyes.”
She looked at him and her eyes twinkled. A spark of something far too friendly shot through him. “I’m not clumsy enough for you?”
He laughed, pushed down the errant spark of interest, and turned her back toward the living room, covering her eyes with one hand and placing the other on her shoulder. As he guided her forward, he heard her inhale.
“Something smells yummy. Mm. I’m starving,” she said.
He chuckled. “I figured you would be. Seeing as you’re awake and all.”
Her hand flailed out to swat him, smacking him on the lower abdomen, dangerously close to where the spark had been. She giggled and Owen focused on not walking her into a wall.
When they reached the doorway of the great room that encompassed the living area, office area, and kitchen, he stopped them.
“I, um…borrowed a few of your things. I hope you don’t mind,” he said.
“Okay.” That simple. No questions, no balking. What was hers was his. God, he hoped he was as good a friend to her as she was to him. He’d have to start making sure of it.
“Do I smell egg rolls?” she asked, her chin jutting upward. She sniffed.
Owen laughed, the tension easing out of his shoulders, and he withdrew his hands, stepping out from behind her so he could see her face. She looked around, her mouth slightly open. He’d kind of copied what he’d seen her do in her place. He’d put the decorative fir garland along the fireplace mantel, tucking it behind a small nativity scene that he knew had belonged to her parents. Stocking hangers—one ceramic Santa Claus and one goofy-looking snowman—sat at either end, stockings dangling from their hooks. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the hanging stars he’d found in one of her boxes. Eight large stars hung down, twinkling against the glass and the black sky beyond. On the bar-eating area that separated the kitchen from the living area, he’d set out a bunch of appetizers—Gabby loved bite-sized food.
But it was when she turned and saw the tree taking up the corner of the room that he knew he’d done well.
Her hands rose slowly to her mouth. He hadn’t decorated it, just put the lights on and made sure they worked. They danced on and off. Last year, Gabby set everything up herself and had, in passing, mentioned it was kind of a lonely job but she loved how it transformed everything. This year, he wanted to share it with her. Shoving both hands in his pockets, Owen rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching her.
Her eyes were glassy when they met his. “You did all this? I can’t believe you did all this for me. It’s amazing and beautiful. You’re going to decorate the tree with me? I can’t even believe I didn’t have it up yet and now I’m so glad I waited, well, got sidetracked and busy, really, but same thing, right?” She waved her hands and gave a watery laugh.
And then she stepped into him, her arms slipping around his waist. She put her head against his chest and gave a deep sigh. Of happiness, he hoped. Owen was worried that the shock coursing through him was more from the feel of her body pressed so tightly to his rather than her show of gratitude. His arms immediately wrapped around her and he rubbed his hands up and down her back.
“It’s perfect, Owen. Absolutely perfect.”
Still holding her, the sense of how well her body fit against his tugging at the strings of worry in the back of his head, he held tighter. “Good enough to make up for you canceling a date?”
She leaned back so they were looking at each other, their arms still wrapped around each other. Owen’s chest felt tight. Maybe he was allergic to fake trees. What else could account for the shortness of breath he felt?
“There is nowhere I’d rather be,” Gabby said. They held each other’s gaze and when his brain screamed to step back before he did something he shouldn’t, her hands moved to his face. He’d never had a woman cradle his face in her hands quite like this, with a look of absolute adoration. It was mesmerizing. Gabby was mesmerizing. Somehow he’d missed that.
&nbs
p; She went up on tiptoe, bringing their faces closer, and he heard her breath hitch. “Earlier you mentioned practicing,” she said.
Owen’s heart beat heavy in his ears. “Yeah?”
“We should probably do more of that.” Her voice was a whisper but he had no trouble hearing her, even with his pulse pounding.
“Uh. I guess we should,” he said.
“We want it to feel natural, or at least look natural,” she said.
He nodded because speaking had become difficult. Like she was waiting to see if he’d pull away, Gabby moved her face, her mouth, closer to his one millimeter at a time. His fingers clenched the fabric of her shirt. How could seconds take so long to pass? When her mouth finally touched his, he felt like he’d been waiting a lifetime. Thinking stopped as her lips brushed against his, teasingly. When she sighed, her body sinking into his, his brain shut down. His hands moved up, over her graceful back and into her hair. She pressed impossibly closer, but her lips pulled away so they hovered near his. When her tongue traced lightly along his bottom lip, he all but jumped back away from her, his breath sawing in and out like he’d climbed a mountain. He saw the look of hurt on her face, saw the glow in her eyes dim.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
Damn it. “No. Don’t be sorry.” He laughed too loud. Hell, he should be sorry. For something. He just didn’t know what. He moved to the counter and started loading a couple of plates with food. “We need to practice, so no big deal. Though we probably don’t need to make out in front of my family. Maybe just stick to some light kissing, some hand holding.” And even that felt like it might push him over an edge he hadn’t even realized existed.
“Right. Sounds good. Got carried away. Christmas does that to me.”
It’d never done it to him before, but right now he had to fight the urge to pull her closer again. He was just caught up in her enthusiasm. Right? He passed her a plate, smiling so wide his cheeks ached. “Anyway, I’m glad you like your surprise. Let’s eat and then we’ll decorate the tree.”