She glanced up at me, her eyes bright. “Really?”
Fuck. Why had I said that? If I had any hope of sending her to Paris, I sure as hell couldn’t afford a random trip to Georgia this summer.
Before I could respond, a knock sounded at the front door. I glanced over at her with a raised brow. “You expecting someone?”
“No. My one friend is busy tonight. Maybe it’s the guy you made out with at the bar over the weekend.”
My mouth dropped open, a shocked breath leaving me. “Excuse me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Please, Mom, we live in a town of, like, twelve people. Did you think I wasn’t going to hear about it?”
“Well, I-I…guess I didn’t think that through exactly. Look, it was just a?—”
“Oh my god, please stop. Ipromiseyou don’t need to have this conversation with me. Make out with whoever you want. One of us might as well be having some fun.”
The knock came again, louder this time. I wiped my hands on a towel before heading to the door and glancing out the front window. My brows shot up the second I spotted who stood on my porch.
Less than two days was definitely not enough time for me to get my shit together following the kiss and subsequent fuck that had rocked my entire world. Especially not when I had all these confusing emotions swirling inside me. But it looked like I didn’t have much of a choice.
I opened the door to a looming Atlas, his hands braced on the doorframe, the overwhelming bulk of his body blocking out anything beyond his shoulders. Rather than imposing, his stance only served to remind me exactly how safe and protected I always felt in the shadow of his presence.
He gave me a quick once-over like he always did, that barest hint of attention lighting me up in ways that should have been illegal. Then, without so much as a hello, he stormed into the cottage. “We have a problem.”
“We have a what?”
“Aproblem.” He glanced around, offering a grunt at Laurel that I assumed was supposed to be a greeting.
“Well, this seems like something I don’t care about.” She wiped her hands on a towel, the guacamole forgotten as she headed toward her bedroom. “Call me when dinner’s ready.”
As soon as her door shut, Atlas turned back to me, arms crossed. “We need to fake date.”
My brows hit my hairline as I stared up at him, not quite able to believe what I was hearing. “We need to what now?”
“Fake date,” he enunciated, as if that was the issue I was having. “I know you’re familiar with the concept. It was in that book from?—”
“Iamfamiliar with it. What I am unfamiliar with is whyweneed to do that.”
His attention snagged on my lips for the briefest moment, but I still felt it…everywhere. “Our activities at the bar didn’t exactly go unnoticed.”
If the rumors I’d been fed all day were anything to go by, that was the biggest understatement of the century.
“It was just a kiss,” I said, my voice sounding unsteady, even to my own ears.
Ha. The lie was laughable. It wasn’tjustanything, and neither was what had come after. From the look he shot me and the heat in his eyes, he knew it too.
“It’s neverjustanything in Starlight Cove,” he grumbled. “People are also hung up on my…investigation…yesterday.”
“What investigation?”
“I did some asking around.”
“About?”
“Pillow Humper.”
“So?”
“They’re drawing the conclusion that we’re together.”
