Friends. Just friends. He could totally do this. There was a first time for everything, right?
They stood there in silence for a heartbeat, and shockingly she was the first to break it. She gestured toward the door. “Should we go?”
“Yes,” he said quickly. “Of course. Yeah.”
He moved to open the door for her and waited beside her as she locked it behind her. The security expert in him took note of the lock and the fact that there was most likely a hide-a-key hiding under the potted plant to the left.
Cyrano wasn’t exactly a dangerous place, but her father had been light on the details when it came to why, exactly, he was so convinced his daughter needed protection, up close and personal.
He’d asked, and her father’s answer had been vague, at best. He was wealthy—this was news to no one—and that meant his daughter was a target for kidnapping, blackmail, blah blah blah. Has this ever happened before? he’d asked.
No.
So either her father was just overprotective or he had reason to believe she was in some danger that he wasn’t divulging. Until he knew otherwise, he had to assume she was at risk. That was the reason he’d had eyes on her at all times this past week. Easy enough to do since she followed the same patterns every day. Work at the café, volunteer at the hospital, a stop at the grocery store for dinner makings most days, and then home for the rest of the night.
He’d never once seen her leave her apartment after dinner…until tonight.
He watched her walk beside him out of the corner of his eye. Her hair had fallen forward so he couldn’t see her face, but he could see her pale skin, the slim shoulders… She looked smaller than ever, even though for the first time since he’d met her she wasn’t hunched in on herself. But she wasn’t drowning in layers, either, and he felt this pull…this instinct to protect her.
It was his job, sure, but this feeling right now had nothing to do with her father’s paycheck and everything to do with how delicate she looked in that dress, how utterly soft and touchable and…beautiful.
He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away quickly. “So, you ready to meet the entire town?”
She laughed—man, he really loved that laugh—and then she glanced up at him. “You’re joking, right?”
He grinned as he opened the door for her. “I might be exaggerating,” he conceded as she slid into the passenger seat, her hands clasping together atop her purse and cardigan in a move that was prim and sweet. He leaned down farther and lowered his voice as if letting her in on a secret. “But not by much.”
On the drive to the fair he explained how this was the biggest event of the year for Cyrano and the surrounding towns. “This is the first night so there’s bound to be a ton of people here. It goes on for a whole month, and at the end they always bring in some big headliner band to cap it all off.”
“Wow,” she said. “I had no idea it was such a big deal.”
He glanced over at her. “You didn’t have county fairs where you’re from?”
She shrugged. “There might have been, but in the Los Angeles area, fairs don’t really stand a chance with all the other entertainment going on.”
“You’re from LA?” he asked. Actually, she was from Malibu, but he wasn’t supposed to know that.
“That area, yeah.”
“You don’t strike me as an LA girl.” That was the truth. He’d spent some time in California, thanks to his time at training camp with the Army. During breaks, he and his buddies had taken a drive to the coast, along with some weekend trips to Los Angeles and Vegas. Between that and the rich tourists who flocked to Cyrano in the winter, he thought he had a pretty good idea of city girls. Rich chicks. Elite, snobby snow bunnies. He’d met them all.
But he’d never met anyone like Addison.
She didn’t seem to know how to take that comment, and he watched her clench her hands together defensively. “Well, I am. I mean, I’m not exactly one for clubs or the new hot lounge, or whatever, but there are some things I really love about being so close to a city.”
He shot her a sidelong look. “Name one.”
Her small smile struck him like a blow and he forced his eyes back on the road. “I take it you’re not a big city fan.”
“If I were, do you really think I’d be living here?” He gestured toward the ranch that seemed to sprawl forever to his left, a mountain peak hovering over them on the other side. This girl could have her cities, he was happiest when he felt free out in the wild.
She didn’t say anything right away, and he looked over to see her studying him. She looked away quickly like she’d just been caught doing something shameful.
“I’m waiting,” he teased.
“Museums,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers. “Sculpture gardens, and galleries—”
“So…art,” he finished.
She laughed. “Yes, art.”
“That’s really important to you, huh?”
“It’s everything.” Her voice was so soft, so sweet, and so incredibly genuine, it had him looking over again in disbelief. He was used to flirting. Banter? He could do that all day long. Small talk, sure. Wasn’t his favorite, but it was a necessity. But this? She was genuine. Sincere. She was being herself.
Try to just be yourself. I guarantee she’ll like the real you. His sister’s words rang in his ears. He shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. Her honesty was oddly alarming.
And exciting.
Once again he felt his pulse picking up speed, a strange energy coursing through him. There was something about her that made him feel like this was all new. Like he’d never kissed a girl before, let alone taken her out on the town.
Maybe it was because he never knew what she was going to say next. She was shy, but forthright. Soft, but tough. He couldn’t figure out why she tried to hide her beauty, or why she seemed to fear the world at large when she clearly had so much to offer. She was a walking, talking enigma.
Just when he thought he had her pegged, she went and did something, like…be amazing with a group of sick kids who probably made most people feel ill at ease. Or laugh like an angel when he was being a conceited jerk.
“Do you want to be an artist?” he asked.
“I already am.” He could hear the smile in her voice and couldn’t resist a peek in her direction.
She shrugged. “Anyone who creates art is an artist.” She turned that smile on him and it was like a balm to every hurt he’d ever received. “But I know what you meant. Do I want to be a paid artist? Make a living at it? No. Not really.” She shrugged. “Art is my escape. My outlet. I think if I tried to make it a business, I’d miss having that, you know?”
He nodded even though he didn’t know. Not really. He wasn’t an artist, and he wasn’t sure he’d say he had an outlet, unless maybe running.
“Like if you decided to become a professional runner,” she said, clearly reading his mind. “It would be all about training and winning, and you’d lose the stress relief that it brings.”
He smiled at the road. “How do you know it brings stress relief?”
“I’ve seen you after a run, remember?”
Of course he did. He’d planned those run-ins down to a tee.
She shrugged. “You seem more…grounded after a run.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” And for no reason whatsoever he found himself telling her things. About himself. Personal stuff that he never shared with the women he dated. “I didn’t get into running until I joined the military.”
She shifted in her seat and he glanced over to see her half facing him. “You have to get in shape during boot camp,” he said with a rueful smile. “But once I got into the routine of it, I never gave it up.” He smiled at a memory of his former self—the pre-military Colton, as he’d come to think of it. “My means of escape back in the day weren’t nearly as healthy. If I hadn’t joined the Army, I don’t know what would have happened to me.”
“Sounds like
you made a great decision,” she said. “What prompted you to join?” she asked.
He shrugged as if he didn’t know. As if he couldn’t remember. But he did, and he always would. Her name was Tiffany Larson, and she was one of many attractive, filthy rich college girls who’d come through Cyrano during their winter break while he was a senior in high school.
He’d hooked up with her, like he did all the girls who were looking for a good time. Girls like Tiffany tended to light up when they saw him. With his motorcycle and the tough guy image, he’d had his pick of the girls who wanted to take a walk on the wild side while Daddy footed the bill for their ski getaway.
But Tiffany had been different. He hadn’t fallen in love with her, by any means, but she’d gotten under his skin. Probably because she gave it to him straight. She said the things that all the other girls had been too nice to say.
Sure, she’d been the mean girl to end all mean girls, but that hadn’t made what she’d said any less true.
He had been a loser. He was going nowhere. He’d been a slacker, who just barely eeked by to graduate. His “friends” were older and getting into drugs and petty theft. Being a bad boy in high school was one thing, but where he’d been headed was a whole other matter. It would have made him no better than his father—a strung-out druggie who spent more time in jail than out.
Addison was still quiet, calmly waiting for an answer. But there was no way he’d admit those harsh truths to this woman. This chick was a bona fide heiress. The daughter of a world-renowned tycoon. She might have been kinder than Tiffany, but she probably saw him the same way.
Besides, Addison was no different, really. She’d be here for a month, and then what? Then she’d go back to her society dinners, and her art museums…she’d go back to working for Daddy after a month of pretending to be part of their quaint, humble little town. Maybe she’d go back home and paint pictures of their mountain views and tell her friends about the mom-and-pop shops that lined Main Street. As for him? He’d be nothing more than a memory for her…if that.
The lights from the fair came into view just in time. Some of the old bitterness he’d thought he’d done away with had come back thanks to that trip down memory lane. What did he care if she remembered him after he left?
He didn’t.
She’d leave, he’d get his check. Life would go on as usual.
The makeshift dirt parking lot was already full when they arrived and he ended up parking along the street that bordered the fields where the fair was held.
When they got out, they could see the lights spread out below them and hear the shouts from the rides. Smells bombarded them with every breeze—funnel cake, and hot dogs, and every fried treat known to man.
But it was all the people that seemed to make the most impact on Addison. She stopped short as they headed toward the massive crowd heading into the fair. “You weren’t exaggerating, were you?”
“Nope.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders. She looked small and lost as she studied the crowd. “Are you up for this?”
She hesitated for a heartbeat before nodding. “Yes,” she said. “I’m ready.”
He watched her. “You look like you’re braced for battle.”
She glanced up, a smile tugging at her lips. “Crowds aren’t really my thing. Meeting lots of people, it’s…a little overwhelming.”
On cue, one of his buddies from high school shouted out a hello, his wife and kids waving and shouting out his name too.
“Look,” he said, turning to her. “Maybe this was a bad idea. We can go somewhere else if you’d—”
“No.” Her fierce, determined look surprised him. “No,” she said again, quieter this time. “I plan on being here for a long time, so I should get to know these people.” She looked up at him. “Right?”
“Uh…right,” he said quickly. “But…” Her father had said she was only here for another few weeks. “You’re staying for a long time? How long is a long time? I mean…” He cleared his throat. “I thought since you were staying at a friend’s…”
She bit her lip, and he could tell she was considering what she was going to say next. “Officially, I’ll be here until the end of the month. But…I hope to stay here longer than that.”
His brows shot up. Did her father know this? “How much longer?”
Pink spread along her cheekbones as she shrugged. “I don’t know yet.” She hesitated again. When she spoke her voice was firm. “But I don’t plan on going back home.”
He was outright staring now. Was she…running away?
No. She was a grown woman, not some little kid or a stray dog. But still, what she said and what her father had told him did not mesh. “That’s…uh, that’s great.” His mind was racing to figure out what he should do with this news. Was it his job to tell her father that this security job might not be so temporary after all?
What would happen if she stayed? Would her father want him to stay with her, at her side…indefinitely?
Oddly enough, the idea didn’t suck.
She was chewing on her lower lip, her gaze unfocused.
“Hey,” he said, nudging her arm. “I’m sure you’ll make it work.”
Her face lit up with a smile. “Thanks. I’m nervous, I guess. I’ve never lived away from my father. I’ve never…” She cleared her throat and her smile turned rueful. “That sounds strange, doesn’t it? We’re close, my father and I, and I don’t want to hurt him. But I also want to stand on my own feet. I need to be on my own. It’s…important to me.”
He watched her closely, trying to reconcile the spoiled young woman he’d expected to meet with the one who was talking to him now. There was no similarity. She wasn’t some brat who’d set off to defy Daddy, she was a young woman looking for independence. So why did her father think she’d say no to security? Maybe he was just being cautious. Maybe she’d be fine with it if she learned that he was actually her security guard, or maybe—
“I just want to be on my own, without my father’s interference, or with people looking after me all the time.”
Or maybe not.
Whatever hopes he’d been harboring were shot down instantly. It wasn’t until he felt his chest sinking that he realized how much he was hoping her father was wrong. At some point he’d gotten it into his head that maybe he could come clean with her. That maybe this didn’t need to be a friendship based on lies.
He was an idiot, and this affect she had on him? It was bizarre.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I know my father only wants the best for me, but his methods tend to be pretty heavy handed.”
Like hiring a guy to be her friend so he could watch over her?
Heavy-handed was an understatement.
“He must really care about you,” Colton said.
Her smile widened. “He does. And I love him too, more than anything. I just…I just need him to see that I’m a grownup now, that he doesn’t need to cushion everything for me or pay people to be nice to me…”
His head snapped up at that, and his gaze met hers. Did she know?
But she wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at the crowd.
“Did he do that?” he started. “I mean, does he actually pay people to be—”
“My friends?” she finished with a sigh. “Yeah. He has. Or at least, he’s tried. He’d probably do it again if given half a chance.”
“Why?”
She licked her lips and her gaze flitted away from his again like she was lost in thought. “He’s just trying to help, I guess. But…” She straightened, her shoulders pushed back. “I can meet people on my own. I can make friends on my own. I just need to have the chance…you know?”
He nodded, even though he had no idea. It had never occurred to him that people might stress out over how to make friends. He’d always had friends, and his family.
He supposed now that he’d taken it for granted that he always would have them, peopl
e in his corner, people he could talk to, be himself around.
“Shall we?” he said, gesturing toward the crowd.
She nodded with confidence, but he heard her shaky breath.
“Relax, Addie,” he said, finally giving in to the urge to wrap his arm around her. “I’ll be by your side every minute.”
* * *
He kept that promise all night long. More? He kept his promise from the night before too.
They had fun.
Lots of fun.
Like, weird amounts of fun.
Colton leaned against a game counter as he watched Addison pluck off a bunch of cotton candy.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she said.
He grinned. “That’s what you said after you ate that deep-fried Oreo.”
She groaned at the reminder, but her eyes were lit with laughter. “But now I really mean it. Someone needs to stop me before I eat myself into a coma.”
“Did someone say they need more snacks?” Trent arrived at her side with a flourish, his arms overflowing with kettle corn and candy apples.
They’d run into Trent an hour before and he’d charmed the socks off of Addison within the first two minutes of meeting.
Colton hadn’t missed the look his friend had shot him. See? That look said. It should have been me.
It probably should have been. It had taken Colton a week to get Addison to smile at him the way she was doing right now for Trent. But then, everyone thought Trent was a white-hat wearing good guy. His image was squeaky clean, and it was no wonder why. The guy looked like Prince Charming come to life. Colton wouldn’t have been surprised if his teeth glinted when he smiled like out of some cheesy bubblegum commercial.
“I come bearing gifts,” Trent said with that easy grin of his aimed at Colton’s date.
Friend.
Whatever.
She returned his smile with a little blush that made Colton’s hands clench before he remembered that he didn’t actually have any interest in this woman. If she wanted to date Trent, all the better. It would make his job even easier if her time was split between the two of them.
“Are you okay, Colton?” Addison said. “You look a little green.”
Fake Dating the Unsuspecting Heiress Page 7