The man I’ve spent years trying to bury.
But tonight, for Marley, I’ll be whoever she needs me to be.
I lift my hand to knock, but the door swings open before my knuckles make contact, and every coherent thought evacuates my brain.
Holy.
Fucking.
Hell.
Marley is standing in the doorway, wearing that beautiful dress I bought her. But damn, looking that good should be illegal in all fifty states. Deep burgundy fabric hugs every curve of her body as if it’s painted on, the neckline dipping just enough to make my mouth go dry, and the slit up her thigh reveals a stretchof pale skin that makes me want to fall to my knees and worship her like the goddess she is.
Her red hair cascades over her shoulders in soft waves, and she’s ditched the quirky glasses for contacts, making her green eyes look impossibly large and luminous. But it’s the confidence radiating from her, the way she stands a little straighter and holds her head a little higher, that nearly destroys me.
“Oh… wow,” she murmurs, her gaze traveling from my polished shoes up to my face, lingering on the way the tux stretches across my chest. “You clean up nice, City Boy. I like the beard. The less scruffy look suits you.” She smiles in the most dazzling way, only making her even more beautiful right now.
I can’t speak.
I can’t move.
I can’t do anything except stare at her like I’ve forgotten how human interaction works.
“Nitro?” Her smile falters slightly. “You okay?”
“You’re fucking stunning,” I finally manage, my voice rougher than sandpaper. “Marley, you’re… I can’t even breathe right now.”
A blush creeps across her cheeks, and she ducks her head, suddenly looking vulnerable despite the bombshell exterior. “You don’t have to say that. I know this is all pretend—”
“Stop.” I step closer, closing the distance between us until I’m towering over her. Her perfume invades my senses, something floral and sweet that makes my goddamn head spin. “Nothing about what I just said is pretend. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and that’s not part of any act.”
She looks up at me, her lips parting slightly, and I lean down, drawn by some gravitational force I can’t resist. Her eyes flutter closed. Her face tilts toward mine, and fuck, I want to kiss her, really kiss her, not for show but because I need her to know that I am in this.
Be fearless, Nitro.
So I lean in, just as her phone rings.
The shrill sound shatters the moment like a sledgehammer through glass.
“Shit!” Marley mutters, fumbling for her clutch. She glances at the screen and her entire body tenses. “Urgh… it’s Derek.”
Rage floods through me, hot and immediate. “Don’t answer it.”
“I have to. He’s probably calling about the gala.” She swipes to answer, and I watch her expression shift from soft and open to guarded in half a heartbeat. “Hello? Yes, I know what time it starts… Yes, I’ll be there… No, that’s none of your—” She closes her eyes, jaw clenching. “Fine. See you there.” When she ends the call, tension is evident in her shoulders, her fingers gripping the phone a little too tightly.
“What did that asshole say?”
“Just Derek being Derek.” She forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Reminding me that he expects professional behavior tonight… whatever that means.”
I tilt her chin up gently, making her look up at me. “Tonight, I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had. I’m going to spoil you, dote on you, and make sure every person in that room,especially Derek, knows exactly how lucky any man would be to have you.”
“You’re already the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had,” she says softly. “Well, technically, you’re the only fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” I offer her my arm, trying to ignore the words clawing at my throat, the confession that would change everything.
That I’m Damon Blackwell.
That her job interview tomorrow is atmycompany.
