I knewthat it was him because he was with Ellie Ryder, his former bandmate’s sister, and my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend.
The sun hit him just right on that balcony, and Iknew.
Much like I have this gut feeling that I can trust him.
That heisthe good guy in this situation.
Problem is, my gut has steered me wrong so many times that I don’t trust it anymore.
So why did I commit a minor crime in exchange for him pretending to be my fiancé?
Because the sheriff isn’t taking the break-in seriously.
Davis is the closest thing I have to answers.
He pauses in the doorway without letting me in. “You have it?”
I straighten and smile. “I have something evenbetter.”
The look he gives me suggests he doubts that whatever I’ve done, it’sbetter. And he manages to do that without twitching any of his facial muscles.
Huh.
Maybe he’s more expressive than I gave him credit for. Maybe you just have to watch him closely.
I wiggle my phone at him. “I didn’t steal it. I took pictures instead. So no one has to know.”
Oh, that isdefinitelya look. “You took pictures.”
“Yep.”
“With your phone.”
He asks a lot of questions that sound like statements. “Don’t usually take my Polaroid with me.”
“Is your phone backed up to a cloud?”
“Is there anyone who’s ever had to upgrade a phone these days who doesn’t back it up to a cloud?”
He purses his lips together.
Davis.
Davis Remington.
The man who straight-faces everything.
He’s pursing his lips together.
Visibly swallowing too.
Definitely displeased with my ingenuity.
I’d call this ahimproblem, except I’d still like him to fake marry me.
Some to get my grandmother off my back.
Some because it’ll give me the joy of a lifetime to make Nigel watch me marry my teenage boy band crush when Nigel didn’t even believe Davis knew who I was.
