The Wedding Hoax

by Heather Thurmeier

  It was a nice change to watch a zombie movie with someone who would actually appreciate one. The last couple of guys she’d dated since her first go-round with Cole had only liked war movies and documentaries. No thanks.

  He nudged a bowl toward her. “Popcorn?”

  “Didn’t you order the Chinese?”

  He nodded and gave her a lopsided grin. “Appetizer?”

  The doorbell rang before she had a chance to give into the scent of buttered kernels. “Dinner’s here.”

  He went to the door, and she wandered down the hall to grab money from her room. She didn’t want him to pick up the tab for dinner again. Although he always refused her money, she still felt the desire to offer it. One of these days, she’d remember to bring her wallet with her and beat him to the door.

  When she returned to the kitchen, he sat at the tiny two-seater table and motioned for her to join him. She did so cautiously. He had already dished out their dinner, but instead of eating out of the take-out containers like they usually did, he’d put the food on plates, sharing the meal between them. In the middle of the table, a large pillar candle cast a warm glow.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, the suspicion clear in her voice.

  “Dinner,” he said innocently. Too innocently?

  “I can see that. But it’s on plates. And there’s candlelight.”

  “Can’t sneak anything past you, can I?” He chuckled and poured her a glass of champagne. “It’s not a margarita, but I know champagne is your second favorite, so hopefully this will suffice.”

  “Nice dinner, candlelight, alcohol…” That wasn’t going to help her to resist him. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing.”

  “The last time you said that and fed me food and liquor, we ended up on the floor, naked.”

  “And the problem is?” He cocked an eyebrow.

  “The problem is I’m not going down that road again, and I thought you understood.”

  He leaned back in his chair and took a gulp of champagne. “I do, and I’m only kidding. Truth is, I figured putting the food on plates was easier than swapping take-out containers. Then when I got the food on the table, it looked pathetic on paper plates, so I lit a candle. And when I went looking for something to drink, I realized we ran out of soda, and water is too boring for a Saturday night, even for an old engaged couple like us.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “No ulterior motives?”

  “Nope. Just a quiet Saturday night in.” He took another gulp of his champagne, then refilled his glass. “Unless you change your mind about the whole naked on the floor thing. I’d also be happy to mix it up to try a naked in my bed thing. Or even a semiclothed-on-the-couch thing. I’m easy to please.”

  She shot him what he had long ago termed “The Look,” then took her own sip of champagne. She couldn’t deny that next to margaritas, champagne was her favorite. She was surprised he’d remembered. Most men didn’t remember what she ate for lunch that day, and yet Cole seemed to have all sorts of details about her locked away.

  “Do you find it hard not going out with the boys on the weekends?” she asked, pointedly ignoring his other comments.

  “I do. It was a big part of my life, so it’s a little weird to be at home so much. I feel like I should be working more if I’m not out relaxing.”

  “You know, engaged men do still go out with the boys sometimes. You don’t have to sit at home with me every weekend.” Not that she minded having Cole’s company around the house on the weekends. It had been a little awkward at first, but now she sort of looked forward to it.

  “I could. But it’s not the same.”

  “Because you can’t flirt with women?”

  “That’s part of it.”

  “Sorry to cramp your style.” She took a bite of her food, annoyed with herself for feeling like a burden to his otherwise rampant sex life. Much unlike her own more subdued, bordering on nonexistent sex life.

  “I never said you were. Yes, it’s different going out with the boys and being the only one in the group who isn’t flirting up anyone with tits and a short skirt. But no, you’re not cramping my style. Honestly, it’s nice to get a break from that lifestyle. It’s hard being with someone new every weekend.”

  The thought of Cole in some strange woman’s bed each weekend sent a serious spike of jealousy through her. Memories of their tryst in Chicago flooded her mind, hitting her full force as if she’d been whacked in the head with a bat. Heat sprang to her cheeks, a reaction to her unexpected mix of jealousy and longing. She shouldn’t care what he’d done before they got engaged. Hell, she shouldn’t care what he did or with whom while they were engaged, since their entire arrangement was a hoax. But damn it if the images in her head of him being ridden by some other woman didn’t make her want to jump across the table and straddle him herself just to remind him how good she was at it.

  She choked on her next sip of champagne, too involved in her own imagination to pay attention to something as minor as not drowning herself in alcohol. Literally. As she sputtered and tried to regain her breath, her lungs constricted, and tears formed in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

  Great. Now he’ll really wish he was with some other beautiful woman.

  He knelt at her side, patting her on the back. “Are you okay? Do you need me to do the Heimlich maneuver or something?”

  “No! Good. Fine. Really.” She coughed out the words and wiped the tears from her face with a rough paper napkin, not caring if she had makeup raccoon eyes as long as she didn’t have snot anywhere. The last thing she needed right now was Cole behind her, with his arms wrapped around her midsection, thrusting any part of himself against her. She’d rather choke.

  Forcing a deep, shaky breath into her lungs, she turned to shoo him back to his own seat, but when she came face-to-face with him, she couldn’t find words. His brow was creased with concern; one of his big, strong hands still lingered on her back, rubbing tiny circles between her shoulder blades in a most enjoyable way while the other rested on her thigh.

  She couldn’t remember the last time a man had wanted to take care of her like this, and not just this moment when he thought she was choking, but everything he’d done lately. His concern, caring, he was too much. Too nice, sweet…loving.

  His lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something.

  All she could see was his mouth on another woman’s body, and jealousy shot through her again. She’d tried so hard to ignore him for the last few months. She’d put their fling in Chicago out of her mind as much as she possibly could so she wouldn’t have to remember the feel of his body on hers or the way her heart ached to be with him again. To be needed by him again.

  Without thinking, without debating, without any ounce of self-control, she tangled her hands in his short hair and kissed him. Hard.

  Sliding off the chair and onto her knees in front of him, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She arched against him, forcing the air between their bodies to vacate the premises. There was no room for anything next to her skin, but him.

  She broke the kiss long enough to tug his shirt over his head, then kissed a path down his chin and neck, biting his shoulder while she fought with his belt. Why wouldn’t her fingers work?

  Screw the belt.

  She pressed her hand to the hard flesh still trapped in his jeans, rubbing the length of him. Her breath caught in her chest, making it hard to get air when all she wanted to do was breathe in his musky, manly, sexual scent.

  He groaned and shifted so he could slip his hand under her shirt, finding her breast. “Oh God, Dee, I’ve wanted you so bad.”

  I’ve wanted you, too. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud.

  She found his mouth again, kissing him with a need so deep and hot she felt her insides burning. He responded, kissing her back like a man who’d been celibate for far longer than only a few months. Why had she been fighting this urge, this desire, this p
rimal need?

  No. Don’t. Stop, her internal chaperone warned. She silenced the voice with another try at his belt. She didn’t want to stop long enough to think about what was right or wrong. She definitely didn’t want to think about his hands caressing other women over the year they’d been apart.

  All she wanted to focus on was his hands as they traveled down her body to her center, stroking her as if he could start a fire with the friction of his hands against her jeans. If only he knew how hot she was already.

  She finally released his belt buckle, and she struggled to pull his jeans down to his ankles. It didn’t help that he’d unbuttoned her shirt and swept it off her shoulders, effectively trapping her arms. He seized the moment to claim her breast with his mouth. She hovered over him while his mouth did things to her she hadn’t felt before. Waves of desire coursed through her.

  He’s learned new tricks. The thought of Cole touching another woman like this made her raw with jealousy, spiking her desire to be with him. She had to have him. She wanted to be the woman he learned new techniques with, not some one-night stand.

  When she finally got her arms free again, she forced him onto his back. Gripping his pants and boxers, she shifted her weight off him so she could rid him of his clothes once and for all.

  A chime sounded from somewhere in the apartment. She ignored it, throwing his pants to the side and drinking in the vision of pure hunk before her.

  The chime sounded again. This time it was followed by a pounding noise.

  “You in there, Cole?” a man called through the door.

  The dense fog in her head thinned a little as she sat back on her heels, grabbing for her shirt to cover herself.

  He pulled her back down onto his chest. “It’s Troy. He’ll go away in a minute.” He cupped her ass as his length pressed against her as if his brother standing out in the hall was of little concern to him.

  “We can’t,” she said, feeling her head clear a little more every time Troy banged on the door. She looked at Cole and then to the door, then back at him again. “I can’t.”

  What was she doing rolling around on the floor half naked with Cole? Hadn’t she sworn she wouldn’t let this happen again? And she couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time. Nope. This time it was all her.

  “We can. He’ll leave in a minute if we’re quiet,” he whispered.

  “And then what? We fool around for another one-night stand?” she asked, not wanting to hear the answer she already knew in her heart.

  “I’d prefer many nights, myself. It’s going to be a long, stressful push to the wedding. It would be nice to have something fun to look forward to along the way.” He laughed. A pit of longing formed in her chest.

  The desire in his eyes was clear. But what wasn’t clear was how being with him would change things between them even more. Her feelings for him grew exponentially as she peered into his electric-green eyes. She wanted to lie there in his arms all night, be with him again and again if he’d let her. But she already knew that the thing she needed most from him was the one thing he’d never be able to give her tonight or any other night.

  More.

  The thing he’d already made clear she could never have from him. And the one thing she was certain she wanted in her future. More. More commitment. More exclusivity.

  “Just a minute!” she called when Troy knocked again.

  She bent down and kissed Cole on the lips. The passion she felt for him built so rapidly she thought it might overtake her. Resting her forehead against his, she forced in a deep calming breath and focused on the words she didn’t want to say but had to.

  “I’m sorry, Cole. Being with you in Chicago was a mistake I can’t afford to make a second time. I thought I could play your game, but I was wrong. You don’t want forever.”

  Silence. She risked a glance at him. “Right?”

  For a second something flashed across his face that made her believe his opinion about the future might have changed. Maybe it was a flicker of hope or a glimpse of possibility. But when he opened his mouth to speak, he furrowed his brow, his gaze cold and unyielding.

  “Right.” His response was short, to the point, and definitive.

  She blinked away her tears as she pulled her shirt back on and quickly buttoned it, then opened the door on her way to her room. “He’s in there.” She pointed over her shoulder to the kitchen where Cole was likely scrambling into his jeans.

  She ducked into her room, quickly changed into her pajamas, and climbed into bed, only letting the tears fall once she had the blankets pulled over her head. More than anything, she wanted to be with Cole. But she wanted all of him, not just his body. The way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her. The way he took care to make sure she was as happy as she could be in his home. Everything made her want him more.

  But that was the essence of the problem with him. Cole didn’t want more. Not with her. Not with any of the other women he’d been with.

  And she couldn’t do less. She couldn’t do trysts with no commitment or plans for the future. No commitment equaled no feelings, and after the jealousy she’d felt tonight at the thought of him with another woman, she already knew the idea of having “no feelings” was impossible.

  She was falling for Cole.

  Again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Well, I seem to have interrupted something tonight. I apologize,” Troy said when he walked into the kitchen and found Cole pulling his shirt over his head, his jeans on but still undone.

  After what Daisy had said, Cole wasn’t sure things would have gone any further anyway. God, marriage? Even after so many weeks of being immersed in the idea and preparation for it, the thought of actually doing it for real scared him. Marriage would give his father an excuse to say he was too distracted to do his work, and he’d lose the adventure magazine he’d dreamed of running for so long.

  But it wasn’t only his father’s disapproval that had made him turn down Daisy’s question of forever tonight. It was also his mother. How many times had he seen the same longing for affection and commitment on her face as he’d seen on Daisy’s tonight? Too many.

  Son, the only future to plan for is your next business investment, the quarterly statements, and the bottom line. A woman will never understand where she fits into that mix, because she doesn’t.

  “What do you want, Troy?”

  “Grouchy when you don’t get any, aren’t you?” The younger man smacked him playfully on the arm. Cole resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

  Troy’s company wasn’t exactly welcome at the best of times, but tonight it was downright obnoxious. The sooner he could get his brother out of his apartment, the sooner he could go to Daisy and find out what the hell had just happened.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d jumped him, messed with his mind and his body for a bit, then discarded him to the side while fighting back tears. That wasn’t how he’d seen tonight going, and he didn’t want it to end on that note, either.

  He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge and handed another to Troy. If he had to talk to his brother, he needed a drink. He flopped onto the couch and put his feet on the coffee table. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight?”

  “I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop in and see how work was going. How things were going with Daisy. But I guess I don’t need to ask that last one, do I? Seems pretty clear the ring hasn’t hampered your sex life too much.” He laughed as if it was an inside joke. It wasn’t. But he was pushing Cole’s buttons.

  “You’re here to check up on me,” he muttered. He didn’t bother trying to keep the irritation out of his voice this time. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but the magazine is doing great. I think the numbers I’ve seen so far this quarter are excellent.”

  He took a slug of his beer while that little tidbit sank into Troy’s thick skull. When he spoke again, he added in a lot more confidence and cockiness than he actually felt. “And
as you saw, things with Daisy are amazing. Engaged life treats me pretty well.”

  As he said it, he realized he was telling the truth on that last part. Aside from this last hour with Daisy when things had gotten really hot and then really weird all of a sudden, he’d been having a great time being fake engaged to her. Of course, he didn’t have the fear of a real commitment overshadowing his good time.

  “Glad to hear it.” Troy sounded the exact opposite. “For a guy who lives with his fiancée, I expected to see a lot more girlie stuff around, but your place looks the same as it always has,” Troy said. “Almost as if Daisy hasn’t even moved in.”

  Uneasiness crawled up Cole’s spine. Troy wasn’t checking up on him or the magazine or simply making friendly small talk; he was checking up on his relationship with Daisy.

  “Most of the stuff she moved ended up in her—our—bedroom.”

  “Her bedroom? Is that different than your bedroom? You guys sleeping separately?”

  “Well, my bedroom is hers now, too. I guess I’m still getting used to saying ours for everything.”

  “Where’d the little lady run off to anyway? She’s not very friendly with her future in-laws.”

  “She’s off to bed, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Territorial? Interesting.” Troy put his empty bottle on the coffee table. “Sad though. Not even married yet, and you’re stuck at home on a weekend with your girl in bed before eleven. Pathetic really. I hope you enjoy that life for the next fifty years of marriage.”

  Cole’s temper rose, and he fisted his hands in his lap. The need to defend Daisy overwhelmed him. He pulled cool air into his lungs forcing himself to calm down. It didn’t matter what Troy thought. The only thing that mattered right now was that he got his brother out of this apartment before he got into a fight with him. Easiest way to do that was with a little storytelling.