Now that her muscles weren’t performing a full-body clench, she had a little more focus to spare for her guest, and to her surprise,helooked nervous. His smile was gone, and the corners of his eyes were taut. After one sip, he set his beer down on the coffee table. He used the coaster of course; a guy who worked on houses knew how to treat stained wood.
“So I’m guessing I know why you’re here.” She took a long swallow of the crisp, sweet wine and prepared herself for minor humiliation. At least they weren’t in public.
“I’m guessing you don’t.” Aiden leaned forward to study her, elbows on his knees. His gaze was intense, like he was really seeing her for the first time, and she squirmed a little. “I’ve got a proposal for you.”
“A proposal?” That was… unexpected.
“Here’s the thing.” He smiled, but again she caught a hint of nerves lurking under that gorgeous stretch of lips. “Everybody I talked to today saw the kiss cam or heard about it. And they all wanted to know how long we’ve been dating.”
“Oh no,” she breathed, covering her face with the hand not gripping her wine. “I’m so sorry. Did you tell them it was just a dumb thing we got forced into?”
“I didn’t actually.” His thick brows met over the bridge of his nose as he frowned. “And that’s my proposal.”
“What is?”
“That we not tell them that it was fake.”
He fell silent and studied her, as if waiting for comprehension to cross her face, but she just tilted her head far enough to the side that her hair slithered over her shoulder. “I don’t get it.”
He tossed himself back against her love seat with a groan, plunging a hand into his hair as he stared up at her ceiling. After a beat, he looked down and met her eyes again. No nerves, only a glittering intensity that made her sit up straight.
“My dad’s been diagnosed with dementia.” He stopped talking and swallowed hard before continuing. “He can’t keep running the business the way he has been. He just… can’t.”
“Oh, Aiden. I’m sorry.” She was the one leaning forward now, reaching across the space between them to rest her hand on his knee. Despite how little time they’d spent together over the past decade, that comforting touch felt like the right thing to do.
“Thanks.” His smile was small but sincere, and she pulled her hand back so she wouldn’t be too distracted to hear him out. “I need to step up at work, but the thing is…” He stopped speaking again, but this time it was embarrassment, not pain, that marched across his face. He scratched his neck and continued. “The thing is, my reputation isn’t great.”
“You don’t say,” she said drily.
“Smartass.” It was the second time he’d called her that, and she loved the way it sounded like a compliment when it crossed his lips. “But all day today, people were excited to talk to me about our relationship. They think I’m finally getting serious with someone. Making a commitment. And I’m starting to think our clients will trust a one-woman man with their business far more than they’ll trust the guy who…”
When he didn’t finish the thought, she took a stab herself. “The guy who’s out getting his dick wet with someone new every night?” Blood rushed to her cheeks at the crude phrasing, but it was worth it to see his eyes widen.
“Christ, woman, the mouth on you.” He snatched up his beer and took a long swallow, and the shake of his head was almost admiring as he set it back down. “Anyway, yeah, that’s basically the gist. You apparently make me look like a responsible adult, and I need to be a responsible adult now more than ever to keep the company together.”
“Ooookay,” she said. “So you want me to…” Surely she was misunderstanding. It was too ludicrous for her to say out loud.
Then he went and said it for her.
“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” Those eyes were hot on her again. Hot and a little desperate. A shiver traveled down her spine. “And in exchange, I’ll renovate your house within your budget.”
Now she gasped. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Brought her glass to her lips and drained the contents in an effort to seek clarity or completely obscure it. Once she’d guzzled her wine, she swiped a hand over the back of her mouth and asked, “Why me?”
Another frown crossed his face, and then he said simply, “I trust you.” When she opened her mouth, he pointed an accusing finger at her. “And don’t give me that ‘we’re not friends’ garbage. I was the cashier at your lemonade stand.”
“When I was six!” She jumped up and practically sprinted to the kitchen to pour herself another glass. “Any girl in town would do this for you. I don’t understand why you’d bother with me.”
His face twisted. “You’re overestimating my appeal. I’m no different than any other guys you’ve dated.”
Her hand halted dead with the glass halfway to her lips, and she broke into a peal of laughter. “Ha! Wrong.” The past few guys she’d dated had been nice. Cute enough. Okay in bed. But not a single one of them had Aiden’s magnetic pull, that gorgeous-guy self-confidence that was bone deep and somehow effortless.
She looked at him now as he watched her steadily from her fancy floral couch. Their eyes locked, and she realized with a start that he was utterly serious. Any sign of the relaxed, teasing guy she usually saw around town was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and an almost pleading expression.
“Okay.” She walked back over and collapsed onto the velvet ottoman sitting next to the arm of the floral couch. “So what you’re saying is that I pretend to be your girlfriend so you can take over your family’s business, and you’ll fix up my princess house.”
“Exactly.” He straightened, excitement stamped across his features at her willingness to keep discussing this insane proposal. He probably looked like that when he was upselling rich customers on the name-brand countertops too.
“Well, that’s hardly a fair trade.” Her brain spun. “I get all that free labor. What do you get out of it?”
