"Putting it out of its misery."
He moved quickly, popping the front tire from the frame and stashing the entire bicycle in the trunk. It was quite impressive, actually. "Come on. Get in."
I looked down at my hands. "I'm covered in grease."
He paused halfway as he climbed inside the car, throwing a sexy smirk over his shoulder. "You're also covered in polyester. Get in the car."
He waited for me to open the passenger side door and fasten my seatbelt before he shut the door and turned the key in the ignition. I watched him fuss with the air conditioning and the vents, noting the way he'd rolled his shirt sleeves to his elbow. "Comfortable?" he asked.
"Yes," I mumbled, even though I wasn't at all. I was oddly flushed by the unexpected kindness. "Thank you. You don't have to do this."
He stopped to type something into his phone, adjusted the rearview mirror, and then set off down the road, jerking me back into my seat. "Your bicycle is broken. What did you think I'd do, speed away?"
I folded my hands together and set them demurely on my lap, not wanting to touch anything in the gorgeous leather interior. "I guess I never expected you to go all knight in shining armor on me. I mean, not for a fake relationship."
"I'm not a complete monster." He eyed me sidelong. "Are you in a hurry? I was planning to make a stop."
"Oh! By all means. Please do." The only things on my to-do list that night were to work on my screenplay and eat ice cream. Important, but Jax was giving me a ride, and there was no need to be rude.
"Great."
He didn't elaborate or give any hint as to our destination. His jaw was set, his gaze focused on the drive ahead. The windows were rolled down, so there was no opportunity to talk. Just as well, since something about him had left me tongue-tied. Maybe this was the "je ne sais quoi" people in the business talked about, that magnetism that movie stars possessed. Maybe it was the intoxicating blend of fast car and rakish man, or maybe I had low blood sugar. As we zipped down the road, the ocean beating its pulse to our right, I pondered the pickle I was in. Blushing and folding my hands in my lap? I couldn't remember the last time I'd done that around a man. Not even Griff. I reminded myself to be a professional.
A professional what?
"Have you guessed where we're going yet?" Jax shouted over the wind gusting through the windows. "I'll give you a hint: it's about you."
"Me?" My heart jumped. I pressed my hands together more firmly and felt the grit and grease shift across my skin. "You're not getting me breast implants, are you?"
"No." He allowed me to observe his gaze dipping below my neckline. "They look fine to me."
Eyes back on the road, and just great. My skin was burning at this point. I had stopped worrying about Jax turning out to be a serial killer. Wouldn't that be an odd twist on things? But no, it didn't cross my mind as we drove to this secret place that was somehow about me that maybe he was planning to deposit my body in the woods. Besides, I knew we were in Spencer, two towns over from Archer Cove. I relaxed slightly. Rookie mistake.
The car slowed and pulled onto the main street. I'd been here before, of course, but never for long. I'd always assumed that people who shopped in Spencer could smell the Archer Cove working class in me. My pulse kicked a little as the car continued down a line of shops before stopping in front of Belle Tique. A woman in a dove-gray sheath dress and a strand of glossy pink pearls that matched her heels was waiting for us. "Mr. Cosgrove," she gushed as Jax opened the door. "Such a pleasure, sir. I'm Annie. I own Belle Tique."
"Annie." Jax leaned forward to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I've brought my friend with me today."
My hands went clammy. Belle Tique? This was the surprise? I swallowed and nudged open my door, trying not to sully the leather with bike grease. Jax rushed over to help, fortunately. By the time I got to my feet, I swear my bones where shivering.
Jax, on the other hand, was all smiles. "Annie. This is Wren."
I searched his face helplessly for a clue, and to avoid watching Annie's appraisal. I was covered in grime and, as Jax had noted, polyester. She was the owner of a clothing boutique that carried shoes that cost more than my monthly rent. "No fair," I whispered, rising up on my toes to deliver it straight into his ear. "Are you trying to make fun of me?"
Surprise dashed across his face, followed by concern. "No. Not at all. I was here the other day and I thought of you."
A wave of humiliation threatened to bubble to the surface, and I blinked back the tears. "Jax, I swear, if you're doing this to laugh at me —"
"Wren. So nice to meet you, honey." Annie coaxed an arm behind my back and ushered me to the sidewalk. "Oh, look at your hands! Let's get you cleaned up."
We stepped into the boutique and a young saleswoman greeted us with a smile and then promptly locked the door behind us. VIP treatment. "Casey, hon," Annie called over her shoulder. "Be a doll and get me a warm towel and some lemon water."
"We went for a walk," Jax explained, "and Wren ran into someone with a broken bicycle. She fixed it herself."
"Aren't you lovely?" Annie gasped at my side. "I swear, I've never been mechanically inclined, myself. Now, give me a sewing machine and a potato sack, and I'll give you a dress. But I wouldn't know the first thing about fixing a bicycle."
I glanced at Jax for help, because of course I didn't know the first thing about fixing a bicycle, either. He was studying a case of jewelry and didn't notice. "It — it wasn't very heroic," I managed. "Just a slipped chain."
Casey had appeared with a hot, wet towel that Annie used to swab at my dirty hands. It smelled faintly of lemon. "I'm sure you're being modest," Annie said. "There. Your hands are clean and you're ready to shop." She set the towel back on a silver tray, which Casey silently carried out of sight.
I glanced around the shop. Belle Tique carried Annie's original designs: shimmering cocktail dresses and matching handbags, elegant business attire, and unique accessories. She also carried high-end designer lines, Versace and Vera Wang, and many names I didn't recognize. I had read a few reviews of her boutique, but I'd never been brave enough to set foot inside. "I — I guess I'll browse," I muttered. There was no way I could afford a single item in here, I was certain.
"Feel free," Jax said casually as he came up beside me. "But I helped Casey to select a few items that I thought you might like."
"I understand you need a gown," Annie said. "Casey selected some for you to try on."
"I'll wait here." Jax took a seat in a leather armchair that faced the dressing room and crossed one ankle over his knee.
My jaw was open, and I'd barely registered what was happening when Casey tugged me into a dressing room. "We weren't sure of your size," she said with a grin, and lowered her voice. "Men. Am I right? But I have to say, Mr. Cosgrove has excellent taste." She stood back and gave me a once-over. "I'm going to grab a few things for you to try on. You can start undressing."
She vanished, leaving me standing in a large room with three mirrors. I caught a glimpse of myself, and my stomach lurched. My brown hair was windblown and snarled, and I looked ashen under the glare of the lights. I turned toward the blue silk curtain, trying to avoid any glimpse of my own bare skin as I slid out of my definitely not-designer clothing. My pants were smudged with grease. Still, I folded them as carefully as if they had cost me a fortune and set them on a little padded bench.
"Here we are," chirped Casey, pulling a rack of clothing behind her. She pushed her chin-length auburn hair behind her ears and started sliding the hangers around. "He says you like dresses. Is that right?"
I thought of the sundress I'd worn to his room at the inn. Why was I so surprised that he'd remembered? "Yes. I do."
"You'll love this, and it's a nice shade of blue. It will bring out your eyes."
She helped me into a sheath dress that slid like silk down my skin. The fabric was cool to the touch, and soft. "Nice, isn't it?" Casey smiled as she smoothed the skirt in place. "I thought this would fit. Aft
er working in a boutique, one of my superpowers is that I can usually tell someone's size instantly." She stepped back. "Well? Let's show him."
The blood rushed to my feet. "What? Show…Jax?"
"They love the show, trust me." Casey winked. "Go on. He's going to lose his mind when he sees you in that. It's totally sexy."
My hand fumbled for the scooped neckline, and I wondered how much more of this I'd have to endure. When Jax had asked me to be his fake girlfriend, I should've made him iron out more details. Clothing shopping and a miniature fashion show was so not me. I took a breath as she lifted the curtain for me to walk through, then I stepped uncertainly down to where Jax and Annie were chatting. As I approached, they both stopped. Jax smiled. "Wow."
I glanced down at my bare feet. "Is that a good 'wow'? Or more like, 'Wow, you'd better get out of that before the designer sees you desecrating her creation'?"
He chuckled. "A good 'wow.' You look great."
He was sitting back in the leather chair, his legs splayed widely, as he watched. Casey was right, he did seem to be enjoying himself, but not in the mean-spirited way I'd feared. More like a genuine way, which only set a fire blazing across my skin.
Jax turned to Annie. "We're going to take that."
She nodded. "Of course. I'll have it wrapped."
He smiled at me. "Go on. Try on everything else. We're going to take everything you like."
The smile hardened on my face. "Jax. Maybe we should talk about this?"
"Nothing to talk about. I like to spoil my girlfriend. It's all my treat." He turned back to Annie. "Why don't you pick out some shoes for her, too. Maybe earrings."
"Of course."
I could see that the topic was closed, at least as long as Annie was hovering at his side. So this was part of the act, then? Just more of Jax sweeping his girlfriend off her feet? I teased the fabric of the dress between my fingers as I headed back to the dressing room, trying to ignore the disappointment that bloomed below my sternum. This wasn't real. None of it was. I'd do well to remember that.
Casey held the curtain open for me. "I told you he'd love it," she said.
"Yes."
I stole a glance in the mirror. The dress was gorgeous, and it really was something I'd enjoy wearing. The cut was flattering, and the shade of deep blue made my skin look smooth. I chewed on my lower lip. Honestly, this would all be finished in a week or so. May as well enjoy it while it lasted. "You know, Casey? I'd love to see what you have for sandals. Maybe a necklace and some bracelets, as well. And a matching handbag, too."
Casey nodded. "I'll be right back."
I smiled at my reflection. If Jax was going to play this game, then I was, too.
By the time we left Belle Tique, we had amassed six large shopping bags. I had a new summer wardrobe, essentially, except no one I knew could see me in any of it because I was trying to remain anonymous. "You hated my clothes that much?" I said as we fastened our seat belts. I was wearing the blue dress home, complete with five silver bracelets that clattered on my wrist and sexy leather sandals that made me glad I'd recently splurged on a pedicure.
"I wanted to do something nice for you," he said. "Is that a crime?"
"You should've just told me the truth. All of those comments about polyester." I tried to keep the hurt from creeping into my voice. Failed. "You know I don't have millions of dollars. I don't see how it's at all fair —"
"Wren." He slipped his hand over mine, stilling my thoughts. "I wanted to do something nice for you. That's all. I swear it."
My mind had gone blank. I nodded. "Okay."
"Good, then. Enjoy." He turned the key in the ignition and we sped down the road. "You know how much sex this entitles me to, right? I mean, just that dress alone — ow!" He jerked back his arm and laughed after I hit him square in the bicep. "I'm kidding!"
"Tell me, do those jokes work ever?" But I struggled not to laugh as he rubbed his arm. I'd barely touched him.
"I wouldn't even need to try jokes or shopping sprees with most women. You should consider yourself lucky."
But I didn't feel lucky as we returned to Archer Cove and I realized the shopping bags would force me to give Jax my actual address rather than asking him to drop me off somewhere else. I felt sick as I helped him navigate to my little two-family building beside the municipal park. "Thanks for the ride," I said.
I hoped no one at Crabby Andy's was watching me climb out of a Maserati. Good lord, I hoped my landlord wasn't home. What would she imagine I was doing to pay the rent?
Jax unfastened his seatbelt. "I'll get your bags."
"No, it's fine —"
"I insist."
I waited on the sidewalk while he lifted the bags from the trunk and waited expectantly. "Well? I'll carry them up."
"What? No. No." I reached for the shopping bags. "I can't. I think — my apartment's a mess, and there's some weird stain on the carpet, and maybe my cousin is there and waiting for me." The excuses came fast and furious.
"I can handle your cousin. You're the one who insists on being anonymous."
"Because of the bakery." I feared that the attention and gawking crowds would only drive our loyal customers away. "Besides, you don't know my cousin. She keeps a dead fox beside her door."
"Let me walk the bags up the stairs at least."
"No." I pried his fingers open and pulled the bags into my own hands. "Thank you. It's nice of you to offer. But no thank you."
I tried to decipher his furrowed brow. It looked oddly like disappointment. "Suit yourself. Don't say I never offered."
"Yes, you're great." It wasn't sarcastic. "It's me, okay? I have weird hang-ups about strange men in my apartment."
"And accepting gifts from those men. But I've made headway there." He shrugged. "You have issues. I always find the girls with issues."
"Well that explains everything. I hope you take my insurance, Dr. Cosgrove."
He rubbed at his forehead with his free hand. "You really are a special breed. I take you out for a fun afternoon and you reward me with sarcasm. This imaginary relationship is going to land us in couples' therapy before long."
I tilted my head at him. "I promise you don't need to worry about my issues or offer to pay for my therapist."
"Good thing, because I'm just about broke after this afternoon's detour to Belle Tique." Jax frowned. "But I don't understand you, Wren. How does dating a movie star hurt your family's bakery? I'd think it would boost business. I'm not going to lie — it feels a bit personal."
I glanced down at my new sandals, so pretty even against the steely gray concrete of the sidewalk. "You're right, you don't understand. You actually like it when people gawk at you."
"So I'm right. It's not really about the business." He slipped his finger under my chin and raised my eyes to meet his. "What's going to happen at the party on Friday? You're going to have to come out as yourself eventually. It's part of the arrangement."
"I know," I said, reaching up to take his hand. "I'll resolve my issues by then. Okay?"
Somehow our fingers interlaced, and we stood there for a moment staring at each other before I realized how intimate it all was. I allowed his hand to drop. Yes, I was playing a part, but I didn't need to be foolish about it.
If Jax sensed my discomfort, he didn't let on. "Fine. I'll leave." He sighed and stepped off the sidewalk. "And I'm keeping your piece of shit bicycle. If I manage to sell it for scrap I'll split the profits with you, sixty-forty."
"You're so sweet, Jax. See you at the party."
I watched as he drove away, standing on wobbly legs, not exactly sure what had just happened. Then I headed to the back of the building, where I could take the outdoor staircase. A guy from Crabby Andy's was tossing a large black trash bag into the Dumpster. He grinned at me and gave a whistle. "Lookin' good, mama."
I gritted my teeth as I climbed the stairs, feeling his eyes on me. I'd have to start using the front entrance.
CHAPTER FIVE
Excerpt from Celebrity Burn, June 29
Posted by: Rubee
Hollywood has officially infected Archer Cove, bringing life in the normally sleepy seaside town to a fever pitch. Tonight is the party everyone has been waiting for: famed producer Hodges Brennan's annual fete-to-end-all-fetes, located at his fourteen-bedroom summer home in the hamlet of Great Barrington. One never knows what they will encounter at a Brennan party, but last year's swag bag was worth thousands of dollars, and highlights included monogrammed diamond bracelets from Tiffany and gift certificates for a stay at a local spa.
Everyone who's anyone will be there, and yours truly will be bringing you the official scoop. I'm especially looking forward to sneaking a peek at Jax Cosgrove's mysterious lady friend. Sources say she may be The One who reforms his bad-boy image, but I'm going to be the judge of that.
Breathing was the most difficult thing. My corset was at least one size too small, and Lucian, my stylist, had pulled it to the tightest setting. "It hurts," I'd gasped. "My ribs feel like they're being pinched."
"But now you'll fit into the gown, my dear."
Lucian stepped back triumphantly and reached for the steel-blue Valentino. I lifted my arms to allow the fabric to cascade over my body. He then set to work pinching, smoothing, and pinning. Finally he stepped away. "Gorgeous," he declared. "Stunning. Wait until he sees you in that."
Lucian knew I was a fraud. Jax had called him in confidence and asked for his assistance to make me look presentable at Brennan's party. Photographers would be there, and while hiding might work when strolling along the beach, tonight the world would see my face. Lucian changed my body with a corset, styled my uncooperative hair into soft waves, and worked magic with his makeup brushes. When I looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized myself. After all, every inch of the person staring back at me from the mirror had been tweaked and modified in some way. "It's amazing," I whispered. "Lou, you're a genius."
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