I deflate a little hearing Liv say we will break up, but I just smile and nod. “Happy to help.”
“Alright then, Owen, from fake husband to fake fiancé. Let’s do this.”
Chapter 5
Liv
“Okay, then…great,” Owen says. His tongue darts out to moisten his lip, and I can’t help but track its movement. “What time should I pick you up?”
“You don’t have to do that. We can just meet there,” I say, trying to regain my composure.
“No way, this may be a fake date, but my sisters would kill me if they found out I wasn’t a real gentleman.”
“Alright,” I laugh, “Pick me up at six, wear the suit you wore last night.” I catch Owen’s eyes flick to my body, and I realize I’m still in my pajamas, while Owen is dressed in dark jeans and a fitted dark sweater. “I promise to be in a dress.”
Something about the faint color tinging Owen’s cheeks again causes a flutter behind my ribs. “And…thanks for doing this.”
“It will be fun,” Owen says. “I’m pretty good at selling a story.”
“Oh, right, the story.” I shift to lean against my door. “We should probably know some basic information about each other to make tonight a little more believable?”
“Do you…” He gestures to the coffees he’s still holding. “Want a coffee?”
“Oh my god! You were taking coffee to your friend when I sidelined you. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s no problem. He’s fine alone,” he says, laughing, and points to each one. “I have an oat milk latte and an Americano.”
“Oh, oat milk lattes are my favorite.”
“Mine too,” he smiles, and his eyes crinkle a little at the corners. I try to place his age—he seems around mine, in his early thirties. His dark hair looks freshly trimmed but is a little long on top in an effortlessly messy way. It’s the kind of hair you want to run your fingers through.
“Oh, then that one was yours? You should have it.”
He holds the latte cup out to me. “Please, take it.”
I take the offered cup and consider inviting him inside. Something about Owen makes me feel instantly comfortable, just like last night when he kissed my temple. For some reason, it didn’t feel awkward at all. Now, his presence settles my nerves, the ones my mother fried earlier.
“Want to sit outside?” Owen gestures to the front door.
Yes, that is a better idea.
He holds the door for me, and I settle on the rock wall around our unit’s small front garden. It’s a beautiful day, with no fog and only a gentle breeze.
“Okay, so what do we need to know to make this whole fake fiancé thing believable?” I take a sip of the coffee. It’s gone a little cold, but the creamy coffee is still delicious.
“Um, what is your last name?”
“Arden.”
“Olivia Arden, but you prefer Liv,” his lip tips up. “I’m Owen Bishop. Where did we meet?”
“Um, let’s keep things as close to the truth as possible, so in a bar?” I ask. “And you have two older sisters who live…where?”
“In Ohio, where I grew up. My parents, two sisters, their husbands, and my combined five nieces and nephews still live there.”
“But not you?”
“I live in Santa Barbara now.”
