I have questions, but she must be able to see them because she continues, “I need my family and friends to stop feeling bad for me now that they’re paired off and happy. But if we can convince them we’re dating, it solves that problem. So, we pretend date, we go to the wedding together, none of my family or friends pity me for being at my younger sister’s wedding alone, and then we break up.” She uses finger quotes as she says the last part.
“Won’t they just pity you again?” I ask, digging into the takeout bag and setting one container in front of each of us.
“When I tell them you just ghosted me again, they’ll avoid the topic like the plague. It’s worked the last fifteen years, I’m not sure why it wouldn’t work this time too,” Izzy says, popping open her food container.
There’s no world in which I let that be the narrative Izzy shares with her family. The people of Wild Bluffs, I don’t care, but the Harpers? Carter and Kelsey? No way. And I tell her as much.
“Okay, well, you’ll have to go do famous musician things, and we’ll decide long-distance isn’t for us.” She waves my comment off before replying, “It doesn’t really matter.”
“This feels like a real half-cooked plan,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Of course it’s half-cooked, Jaxon!” she practically yells before dropping her head into her hands. “I agreed to fake date you on a whim last night because I’m tired of feeling so alone every time I’m with my family—my favorite people in the world.”
“Okay,” I say softly. “Okay. Fake dating makes sense, and we’ve got time to figure out how we end it. Plus, since I’ve never actually dated someone, this could be a fun trial run.”
She nods while taking a huge bite from the bacon burger. I got her that, hoping she still likes the same thing she did when she was seventeen.
I take a bite as well, and feeling a bit rebellious, ask the next question with my mouth half full. “So you mentioned something about conditions.”
“Yeah. First, I think we need to start hanging out more. Be seen out at dinner and things like that.” She pauses. “If you still want to come over for coffee in the mornings, I think that’d be good…though I’m happy to supply my own coffee. Or I could get it every other day or something,” she says, her tongue darting out to lick her lip after she stops talking.
It makes a small fire come to life in me. Well, either the view of her tongue or the fact that she’s worried about me buying her coffee. Since I mostly interact with my employees, it’s almost always just assumed that I’m buying whatever food they’re consuming—either at the time or later through somereimbursement process that I, thankfully, have only a very broad understanding of.
She knows I’ve got more money than I know what to do with in this lifetime, and yet somehow, she’s not trying to take advantage of it. This might be fake, but she’s definitely not trying to get any and everything she can out of it.
And, fuck, I like that.
“No way. It’s my new favorite part of the day. I’m getting the coffees,” I say.
She narrows her eyes at me like she’s trying to figure out my angle, but eventually, she nods.
“Anything else?” I ask, feeling like going on fake dates while fake dating seems like a fairly obvious rule.
“No kissing,” she says in a rush.
“No what?” I ask, unsure I heard her right.
“No kissing,” she says again, slower this time.
“Okay,Pretty Woman.”
She stops chewing and stares at me. “Did you just equate me with a prostitute?”
Shit. No. I mean,technically, yes.
I cough before shaking my head. “Nope. I’m obviously Julia Roberts in this scenario.”
Izzy scans me before rolling her eyes. “I’m serious, Jaxon.”
“So am I, Izzy. You make a hell of a Richard Gere.”
“No kissing,” she repeats.
“Except if it’s required to uphold the farce, right?”
“Who are you hanging around with that you think people will require us to kiss to see proof that we’re together? It will not be required in the nextfour weeks.”
“Just know, if the situation calls for it, I’m not breaking character.”
