by Sabrina Sol
Too late. He stepped closer and his eyes raked over her body. It might as well have been his tongue, given the way her nipples pebbled in response.
“You know, just because we’re going to be pretending to be engaged doesn’t mean we have to pretend other things,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
Her pulse quickened. “Really? Like what things exactly?”
“Like right now. I don’t have to pretend that I haven’t been able to forget kissing those sweet, soft lips of yours. And you don’t have to pretend that you don’t want me to kiss them again.” He moved even closer to her, the space between them so small that the heat of his breath fanned her cheeks.
The abrupt change in his body language and tone threw for her a loop. Her mind raced, trying to figure what had caused him to go from zero to horny in just a few seconds. They’d just made a business agreement, and usually those didn’t require a make-out session to seal the deal. Perhaps he was testing her to see if she could act like a smitten fiancée?
That had to be it. It was time to show him that she could get physical without getting emotional—just like him.
“Fine. Let’s stop pretending then.” His shocked eyes were the last thing she saw before she pulled him down by his jacket lapels and smashed her lips against his. It was a hard and fast kiss—meant more to be a statement than an invitation—but before she could bask in having caught him off guard, he turned the tables and pulled her back in for more. The gruffness gave way to passion, and before she knew it, he was arching her backward over his desk, one arm bracing her shoulders and the other encircling her waist.
Her body was on fire, his tongue the accelerant. And God help her, she wanted to combust beneath him.
A knock on the door saved her from such a fate.
“Excuse me Mr. Montoya,” a man’s voice said from the other side, “but there’s a problem with today’s seafood order. We need you to come talk to the vendor.”
“I’ll be right there,” he yelled after breaking the kiss. Pulling her back up, he gave her a quick peck and walked to the other side of his desk. She straightened her hair and clothes. What the hell had just happened? A few minutes ago she had been ready to strangle him. If they hadn’t been interrupted, who knows what she would’ve done instead.
She watched him as he picked up some papers and his cell phone. “So, did I pass your stupid test?”
“What test?” he asked without looking at her.
“The one to see if I could act like a fiancée. I mean, I don’t expect you to manhandle me like that in public, but at least you know I’ll be, um, receptive.”
He laughed, yet his eyes were serious. “You thought that was a test?”
“Of course. Why else would I kiss you, and why else would you kiss me back…like that?”
“I don’t know why you kissed me, but I kissed you because you are a goddamn sexy woman and I can’t stop wondering what it would be like to finally see you naked.”
His directness stirred something deep inside her. No man had ever said anything like that to her. Ever.
On cue, the tiny, nagging voice inside her head reminded her of the reality of the situation.
This isn’t a real relationship, and it won’t ever be one. Sex with Brandon would only complicate things.
She cleared her throat. “I appreciate your frankness. So I’ll be just as honest. It’s obvious we’re attracted to each other, and while I’m sure the sex would be amazing, I still think it would be a mistake to give in to our, um, desires. You said it yourself. We have to think of this as a business deal.”
“So our arrangement should be a platonic one?”
“Yes. Is that okay?” she rushed.
“Well, of course it’s okay, Daisy. I’m not a brute who’s going to force you into my bed. You’re doing a huge favor for me and I’m willing to respect and follow your terms of negotiation.”
Relief washed over her, taking the last embers of that fiery kiss with it. “Good. Thank you.”
“Before we shake on it, though, I do have one more request given our mutual agreement to keep this platonic.”
Why did she already think she’d have an issue with this next request? “Well? Spill it.”
“I think you should move in with me while my mom’s here.”
Alarm bells sounded off inside her head. “I thought you just said you were willing to keep things rated PG?”
“Hold up. I never said PG. How about PG-13?”
“Brandon…”
He laughed and went over to her. “Okay, we’ll discuss ratings later. But hear me out about the living together situation. As much as I think the story about us will die down eventually, what if the paparazzi continue to dig for a new one? What if they start following you home?”
Daisy thought about the man at the bakery that Amara had mentioned. Instead of feeling afraid, she got pissed off. “I know how to take care of myself. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.”
He raised his eyebrow at her comment. “I’m sure you can. But at least if you stay with me, I can protect your privacy. The gated entrance and security kiosk pretty much guarantees that no one will walk up to the door just to ask you questions or take more photos.”
Although she hated to admit it, the idea of camping out at Brandon’s while this story died down seemed like a good one. Except for one major detail. “What about sleeping arrangements?”
He didn’t hesitate. “You can take the master and I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom. Both are upstairs. My mom has a bad knee and can’t climb stairs very well so she won’t be making any surprise visits. Plus, you know I’m always here at the restaurant anyway. Unless we plan to do something with my mom together, I bet we’ll barely see each other.”
Living in Brandon’s house, sleeping in a room next to his, and hanging out with his mother seemed like an alternate reality she wasn’t quite ready to cross into. Could she really go through with it?
Brandon didn’t notice her apprehension and stepped even closer. “However, in the spirit of being as transparent as possible, I do need to let you know that I’ll always be willing to renegotiate the terms of our agreement. If you know what I mean?”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll always know what you mean. But that’s not going to happen. Sorry.”
“Whatever you say,” he said and opened the door for her. “Just as long as you at least act like you want to sleep with me when my mom is around.”
“Ewww.”
Brandon’s cheeks reddened. “You know what I mean.”
And for the first time that day, she laughed. But her amusement disappeared as another thought entered her mind.
“Speaking of parents… If your mom saw that article then there’s a good chance my dad will have, too. I need to go talk to him.”
“What are you going to say?”
Daisy thought for a moment. What could she say? Would her dad understand why she would agree to take part in such an elaborate charade? What if he didn’t? Either way she couldn’t ask him to lie, too. She had to protect him.
“I’ll tell him we’re getting married.”
His eyes widened. “By yourself? You don’t have to, you know. I could do it with you.”
She shook her head and sighed. “For your own safety, it’s best that you not be there.”
“Seriously? You really don’t want me to meet your dad?”
“Not yet. Let’s just see how things go, okay?”
Later, as she drove to the bakery, Daisy replayed everything that happened in Brandon’s office. It still didn’t seem real. How had she ended up pretending to be in love with a man who changed girlfriends as often as his ties? Her life had definitely taken a strange turn since Amara’s wedding.
Hopefully, it would be for the better.
Except she hated that she had to get her dad mixed up in the craziness. But it was a small price to pay for getting her event planning business off the ground and getting
her life back on track. Her dad had given up so much to raise her on his own and send her off to an expensive college. And how did she repay him? By quitting her high-paying marketing job last year so she could figure out her real passion.
He’d been angry when he finally found out she’d left the agency on her own. To him, work was all about getting a paycheck. Passion and personal fulfillment had nothing to do with it. If you didn’t like your job, so what? Unless you could find a better one, you just kept doing it. Thirty years in a factory had taught him that.
It had been the first time he’d ever told her that he was disappointed in her.
The event planning business was the chance she needed to prove to herself—and to him—that she hadn’t made the worst mistake of her life.
But now there was the little issue of her fake engagement…
Maybe she could get through the next two weeks without having to introduce him to Brandon. Eventually she’d tell her dad that the engagement had been called off, that they’d rushed into things and realized they didn’t love each other.
Her dad should be relieved that she didn’t end up marrying someone who was so wrong for her. In the end, he might even understand.
That was the best-case scenario. The worst-case? Well, she didn’t even want to think of it.
Chapter Six
Brandon checked his watch again. It was only ten minutes later than the last time he looked. His mom’s plane was scheduled to land in less than an hour. Which meant he had less than sixty minutes left of being a bachelor.
Shouldn’t he being doing something, anything, to mark the occasion?
He glanced around his office and sighed. Unless there was a stripper holding an expensive bottle of whiskey about to burst through the door, Brandon would have to settle with toasting good-bye to the single life with the iced tea he’d been nursing since lunch.
“To me,” he said sarcastically, and took a drink.
Then the door opened, and for a second he wondered how the universe had known.
“Oh, good, you’re in here,” Dante said as he walked inside.
Brandon could feel the blood draining from his face. “Damn, Dante,” he muttered.
His friend stopped in the middle of his office. “But I haven’t even told you yet.”
He’d been prepared to tease Dante a little more about ruining his last hour as a single man, but his words made him realize there was nothing funny about why he had shown up. It had to be about the Miami project.
“What happened now?” he groaned.
“The project manager heard from a friend at another construction company that the city is thinking of rezoning.”
“How can the city do that? Why would they do that?”
“The other company just bid on a possible redevelopment project for the city. Based on the initial plans, the city would purchase that vacant lot down the street from the restaurant site and lease it to a private developer who wants to build condos on it. If they do that, then that means—”
Brandon shook his head in disbelief. “That block would become a residential zone and I wouldn’t be able to sell any alcohol at the restaurant.”
Dante took a seat across the desk from him. “Nothing is for sure yet. The team called me because they wanted to find out what the legal issues were before telling you. I have some thoughts, but I plan to keep researching. In the meantime, I figured it was better that you know now.”
It was better. Though not by much. This wasn’t the kind of news he needed just before he was going to go see his mom. But knowing Dante was on top of the situation would help him push it aside for now. He trusted his friend, trusted his expertise. If anyone could figure it out, it was him. He’d been the youngest person in his firm’s history to make partner. That’s why Brandon kept him on such a hefty retainer. It had nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with the fact that Dante knew his shit.
“I appreciate you telling me. This project is really becoming a giant pain in the ass, isn’t it? Before you walked in, I was thinking of having a drink to mourn my bachelorhood. But now I may need to mourn this project instead. Son of a bitch.”
“Ah, that’s right. You’re picking up Lorena today. Sorry, my friend. I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”
Brandon sighed. “Not your fault. It’s been a weird day all around. Truth is, I’m having second thoughts.”
“About your mom coming to L.A.?”
“No, not that. About asking Daisy to pretend to be my fiancée. My mom hasn’t even landed yet and this charade is already becoming way more complicated than I thought it would be.” Dante sighed and Brandon’s ears burned. He knew that sigh well. “What? You know you’re not technically going to be right until you tell me.”
Before Dante could answer, his sister rushed through the door. “You ready to go yet? I swear sometimes I think you like making me wait.” Alex noticed he wasn’t alone and stopped in her tracks. “Oh. Hey, Dante.”
“Hey, Alexa.” His friend gave her a curt nod. They stared at each other for a few seconds. The tension in the room shifted and Brandon was both relieved and confused. Why did he always feel like a third wheel when it came to these two?
He stood up and grabbed his keys. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were waiting for me. Dante had to fill me in on some stuff about the Miami project and, if I know him as well as I think I do, he was also just about to lecture me about this fake engagement with Daisy. Am I right, Dante?”
His friend shifted in his seat. But it was Alex who spoke. “Well, it’s definitely not one of your brightest ideas, my brother.”
His sister’s comment made Dante chuckle, but not him.
“What do you mean? I thought you supported it?”
“I supported it because it got Mami on a plane and will get her in front of that oncologist tomorrow. That doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s risky as hell—for both you and Daisy.”
He didn’t understand her sudden concern. “How is it risky? We’re going into this with our eyes wide open. Everything will be fine.”
Dante chuckled again. “Famous last words.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “Look, all I’m saying is that it’s not like you’re going to be living with a troll for the next two weeks. Daisy is beautiful and smart and funny. The whole Internet already knows you can’t keep your hands off her, so you need to be prepared in case your perfect plan doesn’t end up going the way you thought.”
“I’m not going to deny that I’m attracted to her. And I’m not going to deny that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we decided together to, uh, enjoy the physical benefits of being engaged. But even if that does happen, it still doesn’t mean we can’t walk away from this and go back to our normal lives.”
Dante threw up his hands. “Seriously? What is it with you Montoyas and relationships? They don’t all have to be based on just sex.”
Alex whipped her head around to look at Dante. “Hey now. How did I get dragged into this? I’m not the one who asked someone to pretend to be in love with them.”
“Please. Your relationships are just as fake as Brandon and Daisy’s. At least she knows going in that it’s all pretend.”
“And just who in the hell gave you the right to judge my relationships? Last I heard, spending every night with your TiVo and takeout Chinese isn’t a real relationship either.”
“How would you know how I spend my nights? Last I heard, you didn’t want to find out.”
That was way more than he wanted to hear. Like always. Some days he felt like their referee. Other days, like today, he felt like their relationship counselor. He wasn’t in the mood to be either. Brandon jumped up before Alex said something she’d regret. “Okay, guys. Cool it. I need to think.”
They both mumbled an apology as he walked out of his office. He needed a few minutes alone to get his head back on straight. The next two weeks were going to be difficult enough just dealing with his mom’s diagnosis. He couldn’t afford
to lose focus by worrying about possible side effects or complications from this fake engagement. And, anyway, it was too late to turn back now.
So he had to push forward and concentrate on making his plan succeed, just like every other business deal.
Failure was not an option.
Chapter Seven
While her son preferred to keep his feelings bottled up, Lorena Montoya let them flow wildly.
As soon as Brandon helped her out of his car, the large woman rushed toward Daisy, who had been waiting nervously on the front steps of the condo. Before she could even offer a polite greeting, strong, thick arms pulled her into a soft, ample chest.
“I’m so very happy to meet you,” Señora Montoya gushed into her hair.
Daisy awkwardly patted her on the back. Uncomfortable with such an unabashed show of affection from someone who was practically a stranger, she looked over at Brandon for rescue. But he just stood by the car, grinning and shaking his head.
It wasn’t until she finally pulled away that Daisy noticed the tears streaming down the woman’s face.
Surprised by her own sudden emotions, she focused on getting into character. “It means so much to Brandon, to both of us, that you’re here. Thank you for coming.”
She looked again at Brandon, who was now smiling wildly and tilting his head in his mother’s direction as if to signal that Daisy needed to do something more. So she plastered on a smile and gave the woman’s hand a squeeze.
Señora Montoya laughed out loud. “The first thing you must know about me is that I’m a hugger, especially with my family.” She reached and pulled Daisy into another hearty embrace. “Thank you for agreeing to marry my son. You have no idea how happy this makes me, mija. Oh, is it okay if I call you mija?”
No one but her father called her that, not even her own mother. Not that Daisy would’ve answered to it if she had ever tried. And it didn’t feel right to let Lorena call her that either. Not when she knew she’d never be her daughter.