Swimming.
He’s not asking about my libido.
“I’m more of a splasher-arounder,” I tell him.
He smiles, anddamn.
I haven’t had enough coffee yet today, but that blue-eyed smile that brings out two matching dimples is waking me up more than the cool water in the lake.
Especially in various parts of me that I usually handle all on my own.
Am I having a reaction to this fake fiancé thing?
Or is this some kind of Tinsel woo-woo magic?
Or maybe just gratitude that he’s a nice guy? It’s so weird to me that Lorelei and Dane are both fabulous people, but my mom and Grandma insist on hating on the Silvers.
“Am I in danger of being splashed?” he asks.
Is he flirting with me? Or am I hearing things? “Only if you want to be.”
His smile deepens, making his eyes crinkle at the edges.
Wow.
He has long eyelashes.
Incrediblylong eyelashes.
How did I not notice that yesterday? Or ever?
“How about you stay here and do your splashing-arounding while I go for a swim. Then we can go grab some breakfast and continue with all of those questions.”
“Deal. But I might head back to the house to finish my coffee. And I’ll take Chili if I do.”
He chuckles. “Good luck with that.”
“With Chili?”
“Yep.”
“He’s a good boy. He’ll come with me.”
“He just used a week’s worth of energy chasing a squirrel and then fairies in the lake. He’s gonna have to be carried inside.”
I suppress a shiver at the idea of a soaking-wet Dane in nothing but his underwear carrying a fluffy fifty-pound dog.
And then I shake my head.
This is fake.
Yes, we could be real friends, but sleeping with Lorelei’s brother while we’re pretending to be more than we are will make things complicated quickly.
And who’s to say he’s feeling the same thing?
He’s already told me he’s in this to make our families quit fighting both for himself and for Lorelei.
Not for me. At least, no more for me than for me being able to hang out with Lorelei openly when I’m home.
