The Fine Art of Faking It: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 6)

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The Fine Art of Faking It: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 6) Page 14

by Lucy Score


  She knew exactly how she was going to win this war. And it would bring the Beautification Committee down to its manipulative, matchmaking knees.

  21

  Davis set aside his laptop to answer his room phone. “Gates,” he said, still focused on the balance sheet he’d been studying.

  “Davis, it’s Eden. Can you meet me at Peace of Pizza?”

  Davis shook his head and looked around the room. He was indeed awake. However, he wasn’t quite sure how to make sure he hadn’t stumbled into an alternate reality.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked slowly.

  “It’s about to be.”

  “Well that’s not at all vague or confusing,” he quipped.

  “Look, just come into town, okay? We need to talk.”

  With trepidation, Davis changed into his new chinos and a lightweight sweater in marled blue and pointed his SUV in the direction of Blue Moon.

  Peace of Pizza was busy as it was most weeknights. Cars filled the parking spaces the whole way around the town square. He parked a block back and, shoulders hunched to the winter wind, pushed into the garlic scented, lava lamp-lit haven that was Peace of Pizza. He waved to Bobby, the dreadlocked owner who made a secret sauce that had pizza chains offering up big bucks for her recipe.

  “Your girl’s in the back,” Bobby told him grimly, pointing a dough-covered hand toward a table. He didn’t try to yell over the din and ask what she meant by “your girl.” He spotted Eden sitting at a table for two, drumming her fingers on the checkered table cloth and scowling.

  She saw him, and her face lit up. He felt his heart do a slow roll in his chest. Wow. That was a beautiful smile. And for the first time since high school, she was directing it at him.

  “Hi—”

  Before he could get the whole word out, Eden was on her feet and grabbing him by his coat. Her mouth met his in a sizzling shock of a kiss. Davis would have been less surprised had she decked him. Her lips were warm and oh-so-soft beneath his. The contact lit up every cell in his body. She felt like a warm fire in the dead of winter, bringing his body back to life, bringing his blood to a slow simmer and almost immediately jumping it to a boil. Eden made a sexy little moan and broke the kiss.

  This was the moment he’d been waiting for for fifteen years.

  Everyone was staring at them. There wasn’t a single sound inside the pizza joint. Except for the pounding of Davis’s heart against the confines of his ribs.

  “Uh, what was that?” he whispered.

  “Hi, handsome!” she said loudly. “I thought you’d like pizza for our date night.”

  Okay. He’d definitely slipped into an alternate universe. Was his name still Davis? He dug through his pockets for his phone.

  “What are you doing?” she asked dropping her voice.

  “I want to see if there’s an app that can tell me I fell into an alternate reality.”

  “Sit, down,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I’ll explain everything.”

  They sat, and Eden took his hand and beamed at him like he’d just finished telling her his favorite thousand things about her. He didn’t know what was happening, but he liked holding her hand and he really hoped there was a second kiss coming.

  “Can I get a pie for you all?” Bobby asked, approaching them as suspiciously as she would a live grenade.

  “Bobby, could you make one of those specialty heart-shaped pizzas for us?” Eden asked with a girlish giggle.

  Bobby looked back and forth between them with suspicion. “Sure,” she said finally. “What do you want on it?”

  “Green peppers,” Eden said.

  “Black olives,” Davis added.

  “The perfect combination.” Eden batted her eyelashes. It was unsettling.

  “Don’t be messing around, girl,” Bobby warned Eden before leaving the table. Eden immediately dropped the flirtation.

  “How much damage did the fire do to your place?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Money. How much money will it take to fix everything?”

  “A lot,” he hedged.

  “$47,735?” Eden asked, leaning forward.

  “How did you know that?” Davis had kept that number very quiet. Word traveled fast in this town, and he didn’t need someone reporting to either of his parents that the tiny bit of smoke damage was actually a full-blown gut job.

  Eden looked over both shoulders and crooked her finger at him. Helpless, he leaned in closer.

  “I think the Beautification Committee burned down your house to get us together.”

  Something white hot and painful burned in his chest. Davis wasn’t one to dabble in anger. It didn’t serve much of a purpose to him. There was something to be said about going with the flow. But right now, he wanted to go set every one of the committee members’ houses on fire. He suddenly got, first-hand, exactly how Eden must have felt all those years ago.

  “What makes you say that?” he asked, red creeping in on the edges of his vision.

  “Someone out of the blue decides to stink bomb your house, right? Who would do that? Teenagers in Blue Moon are too busy learning how to organize protests and brew organic temporary hair dyes. Someone wanted your house to be unlivable so you would have to come stay with me.”

  “So, they burned it down?” Davis gritted his teeth. It made an odd kind of sense. Mischief in Blue Moon was limited to streaking and unpermitted bake sales. Not property damage and arson.

  Eden held up a slim hand. “Hear me out. I went to a committee meeting tonight to dissent the match. They had $47,735 written on the board at the front of the room with a list of fundraisers under it. Why would they feel like they owed you that money unless they were the reason there was a fire in the first place?”

  Davis took a slow deep breath, wishing he could regain his peace, wishing she’d just kiss him again and make him forget everything else. But it was gone, lost to the bubbling lava in his gut. “They could have hurt someone. They could have burned down the entire winery, my family’s legacy.”

  “Yes. They could have,” Eden said, with a slow, dangerous smile. “And we’re going to get them back.”

  “No offense, but your last attempt at revenge almost landed you in jail,” Davis reminded her.

  “There is nothing illegal about what I’m proposing. Even better, it’s just diabolical enough to make those yahoos think long and hard about ever meddling in anyone else’s life.”

  “I’m in. I don’t care what it is. They could have ruined everything I’ve worked for,” Davis said, his voice a low rasp of rage.

  “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Gates. Because you and I are about to fall madly in love.”

  “Walk me through this again and tell me how much more satisfying this will be than turning them over to the police,” Davis said, slipping another slice of pizza off the tray. It was a good plan, but for once in his life, Davis wasn’t sure if it was mean enough.

  “First of all, do you really want to try to have the sheriff’s and mayor’s wives arrested?”

  “They burned down my kitchen!”

  Eden laid a hand over his and he realized he was shouting. “What would having half the town arrested do to you, to your business, to your standing in the community?”

  “They burned down my kitchen,” he said again at a much lower volume.

  “Honestly, it was probably just a stink bombing gone wrong.”

  “Still.”

  “Still,” she agreed. “What does the Beautification Committee prize above all else?” Eden asked sipping her iced tea.

  “Their sterling reputation of perfect matches,” Davis answered.

  “Exactly. They want us to fall in love? Fine. We’ll do it. And everyone in town will know it.”

  “But really we’re just setting the stage,” he prodded.

  “That’s right. You’re going to dump me—again—in the most spectacular public breakup in Blue Moon history. By the time we’re done, the entire town will kno
w that the Beautification Committee is to blame.”

  “This might be the rage talking, but you’re incredibly sexy when you’re plotting evil schemes,” Davis told her.

  Eden laughed. Every time she laughed or smiled at him, the entire restaurant stopped and stared. They were witnessing fifty-plus years of animosity be replaced with what looked like a good old-fashioned, star-crossed love affair.

  She leaned in over the table. “We’re going to give them what they want most in this world. And then we’re going to snatch it away from them.”

  He’d never been more attracted to a woman in his entire life than he was at this exact moment.

  “How far should we go to sell it?” he asked huskily as he leaned forward over their shared heart-shaped pizza. “I mean, are we kissing in public?”

  Eden met him halfway. “Whatever it takes.”

  This time it was his lips meeting hers, sealing the deal.

  BEAUTIFICATION COMMITTEE GUIDELINES

  SECTION T: Observation

  All matches must be observed to ensure that the matchmaking process is proceeding in a healthy, optimal direction. Observation techniques deployed may include: undercover/in disguise surveillance, listening to and participating in town gossip, innocently overhearing match-based conversations, etc. Unfortunately, committee members are no longer permitted to employ any such listening devices or let themselves into the homes of matchees unless there are extenuating danger-related circumstances. Please see Town Ordinance 17-06 of 1985.

  22

  In celebration of their official weekiversary, Davis was taking Eden to dinner at Villa Harvest. She’d decided to take for a spin the long-sleeved red wrap dress she’d bought on a whim three years ago and never worn. The life of an innkeeper wasn’t particularly glamorous, and the impulse buy was buried behind a collection of sensible, comfortable clothes that enabled her to cook, bake, and scrub vomit out of showers when necessary.

  She put a little more effort than usual into her hair and makeup and was rewarded with Davis’s abrupt stop in the lobby. Chewy, who needed a bit of grooming himself and couldn’t see past the fur in his eyes, walked into the back of his legs and almost sent Davis flying into her.

  “You look… wow,” Davis offered, admiring her from head-to-toe. Eden felt the heat of his gaze and tried not to notice how nicely he filled out the navy suit he’d chosen. Was that a vest? Oh, hell. She was a sucker for a man in a vest.

  “I see you finally got a chance to go shopping,” she said. The suit made her nervous. His thrift store wardrobe had downplayed his blatant sexuality. It had masked his powerful shoulders and leanly muscled torso. Badly Dressed Davis had been less intimidating. Now, he was all charm and style. And she felt like she was an awkward seventeen again.

  Sunny whistled at them from behind the desk. “Wowsers. You two look gorge! I’m taking a picture!” She whipped out her phone.

  “Smile pretty, love of my life,” Eden said, without moving her smiling lips.

  “Smiling like the sweetest revenge depends on it,” Davis confirmed.

  “Make sure you put the filter with the little hearts on it,” Eden called as they headed for the front door.

  “Milady,” Davis said, opening the passenger door of his SUV with a flourish.

  “You’re too kind and very, very handsome,” Eden crooned. “I hope your seats recline so I can swoon comfortably.”

  Villa Harvest was doing a brisk business. Eden waved at a table of her guests who were enjoying a family-style serving of fettuccini and a heavenly basket of fresh garlic bread.

  Phoebe, Franklin’s wife, was standing in as hostess tonight looking stylish in all black. “Well, don’t you two look delicious tonight?” she teased.

  “We’re celebrating our one-week anniversary,” Eden announced, cuddling into Davis’s side. It was weird how comfortable he was to touch. It was as if her body was making up for years of playing “Davis Gates is Lava.”

  Phoebe led them to a cozy booth near the fireplace.

  Julia and Rob, from OJ’s by Julia, occupied a table for two. “Hey, guys!” Eden greeted them as they passed.

  Julia dropped her fork on her plate, scraping her purple bangs out of her eyes to get a better look. “Uh, hi, Eden and… Davis?”

  Eden grinned and slid into the booth. This was the kind of attention her teenage rebel self had wanted. Surprise, shock. Not just a blind acceptance of every weird thing she tried. Of course, that rebellious desire had come to an abrupt end in flames. And since then, she’d been trying to prove how nice and normal she was. This was the best of both worlds… even if it was completely fake.

  Davis unbuttoned his jacket revealing more of the vest that had lust curling into a ball in her stomach and slipped into the booth next to her. “Uh, don’t you want to sit on that side?” Eden asked.

  “Why would I want to be that far away from my stunning girlfriend?” Davis asked threading his fingers through her hair playfully.

  She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. His fingers in her hair, the proximity of his body to hers. His hard thigh was pressed against hers. She was getting dizzy.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You look like you’re going to faint.”

  Cheeks flaming Eden picked up her menu. “I was just playing the awe-struck lover,” she insisted. Or lust-struck hater.

  She made herself busy trying to focus on the calamari appetizer description.

  “Hey, aren’t the Berkowiczes in the B.C.?” Davis asked, sliding his arm around her shoulders.

  Eden was suddenly breathless. “Yes. Why?” she squeaked.

  “Two o’clock.” Davis leaned in to nuzzle her neck, and Eden had to force her eyelids open to scan the room. She felt like he was pumping an aphrodisiac through his pores, and if she didn’t get some space between them, she’d do something stupid… like Davis.

  Rainbow and Gordon were cozied up at a table with Ellery, her husband Mason, and Kathy Wu.

  “I guess we’ve got an audience to perform for,” Eden said, pretending to be enthralled with the gold flecks in Davis’s warm, brown eyes. Like molten milk chocolate.

  “Is this okay?” Davis asked, his voice husky, as his fingers stroked her shoulder.

  She nodded in slow motion, her all-for-show smile wavering. She was supposed to hate this man. Not only had the resentment been bred into her, but she had her own personal experience of the Gates family douchebaggery. Why then did her traitorous body want to snuggle a little closer to his warmth? Why did her fingers itch to rake through his hair? And why the hell were her nipples trying to slice their way through her bra?

  She knew the answer. She just didn’t want to face it.

  “I should probably know how you like to be touched.” Davis’s voice was low, almost threatening. Eden’s underwear spontaneously caught fire. She pressed her thighs together in an attempt to suffocate the flames.

  She swallowed hard and then choked on her own saliva. Desperately, she fumbled for her water glass.

  “Are you all right?” Davis asked, patting her on the back.

  Get it together, she told herself. She was not some sex-starved teenager with heart eyes. She was a damn grown woman with ambition and a brain and great shoes who ran a successful business. She was no longer an eyeliner-abusing high school junior desperate for love.

  “Fine,” she gasped out. “Absolutely fine.”

  She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and made herself settle stiffly against Davis’s arm.

  “I like having my hair played with,” she told him and watched those brown eyes narrow. “And I love skin on skin contact.” Eden leaned into him and boldly placed her hand on his thigh.

  He flinched as if she’d just tried to punch him in the balls, and she grinned wickedly.

  It was Davis’s turn to reach for his water glass. He drank deeply, emptying it in three quick swallows.

  Eden wiggled in her seat, confident that she’d just won some control back.

&
nbsp; “Welcome to Villa Harvest.” Their server was a shaggy-haired bean pole.

  “Rupert, when did you start working here?” Eden asked. Rupert was the famously terrible waiter at John Pierce Brews—and Sunny’s on again off again boyfriend. Emma Vulkov, brewery manager, had fired and rehired him twice now.

  Rupert brushed his sheepdog bangs out of his eyes. “Oh, hey, Eden.” His voice belonged to a 1990s California surfer. “I’m picking up a couple of shifts here every week. Emma needs some space from me sometimes.”

  “Ah,” Eden said. Rupert stared at her expectantly for a long beat.

  Davis cleared his throat. “Do you have any specials tonight?”

  “Oh, sure.” Rupert dug his notebook out of his back pocket. “You want to hear them again?”

  “Or for the first time,” Davis said amicably. He shot Eden a look that said they’d be lucky to get the food they ordered before the restaurant closed.

  She squeezed his thigh under the table again, and Davis reflexively hit the bottom of the table with his knee.

  Rupert didn’t notice and carefully read off the night’s specials. “So, I’ll go ahead and put in your appetizer. And I’ll give you a few minutes with the menus,” he said as he tried to grab the menus from the table.

  Davis wrestled one away from him. “We’ll just hang on to this one. You know, so we can order dinner.”

  “Oh, sure.” Rupert wandered away.

  “What appetizer did we order?” Eden asked.

  “We didn’t.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, as he slid toward the edge of the booth.

  “I’m going to the bar to get us drinks. If we wait for Rupert, we’ll be dehydrated skeletons.”

  “I’ll take the biggest glass of wine you can carry,” Eden told him.

  “Anything your heart desires, beautiful.” Davis said it loud enough that the Beautification Committee members lifted their heads above their menus like prairie dogs.

  The flush that tinged Eden’s cheeks was by no means scripted.

  She studied the menu and traced a finger over the tablecloth to calm her nerves. Her phone buzzed in her purse and Eden jumped at the distraction.

 

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