“So, I’m your date for a wedding. I know today we’re supposed to go over some of the details.”
“Yes,” she replies as she picks up a napkin off the table and begins to tear small pieces from it.
“Umm, not that I’m not grateful for today, but you could’ve had them emailed to me. Save yourself some money.” Why thehell am I saying that? I shouldn’t be giving her any ideas in case she wants to use me again. I need the fucking income to pay off the mounting bills.
“It’s fine,” she says without looking up at me. “Money isn’t an issue. This meeting was for me as much as giving you the details. I wanted the chance to meet you first so that I’d feel more comfortable on Saturday.”
I can get that. In fact, I’m actually glad. Saturday will be crazy enough as it is, but knowing that we’ll have at least met beforehand makes it easier.
“So, who are we making jealous? They have to be a fool to not be with someone as sweet and attractive as you.” I can’t help but wink as I take a bite of my muffin.
“The groom.”
My eyebrow raises in both shock and confusion. Is she going there in hopes of breaking off the wedding? Suddenly I’m rethinking this whole date as I take a swallow of my coffee.
“He was my ex-boyfriend, and the bride is my cousin.”
“What?” I spew some of the coffee in my mouth onto the table.
“Yeah, can you believe that? My own cousin was cheating with my boyfriend, behind my back. Claims they couldn’t help falling in love and that it turns out they were a better match. Really, it’s because I don’t fit the perfect woman image his family is after.”
“That’s some fucked up shit.” I reach across the table, taking her hands in mine. “Then let’s make them really jealous. I’m going to treat you like a queen on Saturday. Now tell me everything I need to know about you and him.”
She smiles brightly, never once pulling her hands away from me until I let go of them. We spend the next couple of hours learning every detail I need to know about her. We even come up with a legitimate reason for how we met, one that would rival any meet cute plot scene you’d find in a romance book or movie.
“Thank you,” she tells me as she stands from the table, our time over for the day.
I make a rash decision and pull her into my embrace. "If we’re going to sell this, we need chemistry, on sight and on camera. One kiss now might take the edge off for Saturday."
I pause, giving her just a second to pull away, but she doesn’t. So I lean in, tilting her chin up, and press my lips to hers—slow, steady, and measured. There’s no rush, no heat, just intention.
When she softens into it, her lips part, and I deepen the kiss just enough to make it feel real.
We pull apart, both slightly breathless. I grin. “Well… I think we’ve got the believable part down.”
She laughs, cheeks flushed. I trail my thumb gently along her bottom lip, and for a split second, she looks like she’s remembering what it feels like to be wanted.
“Fuck, that was sweet and hot as hell at the same time.” She fans herself with her hand.
“You’re welcome. I aim to please and make sure you get every penny worth of your money.” I give her a playful wink before pulling her in for a hug. “Your ex is going to be leaving your cousin at the alter and begging for you back,” I whisper.
“No second chances for him; I’m going to find an older version of you.” We both laugh and I take her hand in mine, and guide her toward the door.
Chapter 8
Malcolm
Jeffersonstillisn’ttalkingto me. Not one message. But granted, I haven’t exactly tried to contact him either. So he’s not the only one at fault. Still, I figured after a few days we’d at least sit down and have more of a conversation. Something. But there’s been nothing but crickets. And I’m getting fucking tired of it.
Today, he doesn’t have a choice.
He’s going to talk to me. My company’s handling the renovations on his building, and as luck would have it, I’m scheduled to meet with him to go over the plans. We’ve already discussed them in detail so I know exactly what he wants done. This meeting is more of a formality than anything else. A clever ruse to hide our relationship and keep this on the up and up.
I stand at the edge of the bed, trying to decide what to wear while the morning light spills across the room. Jefferson needs to be in the right mood when we talk today and receptive to what I need to tell him. What I want.
Khakis and a polo. Not exactly the battle gear for winning back the love of your life, but it’ll have to do. But that’s what today is.On paper, it’s a business meeting. In my heart, it’s a final shot. A silent promise. My last chance to win him over before he has more time to get comfortable with my absence. To replace me. A sharp pain shoots right through my heart with that thought. The idea of him being with someone else. Him finding a new love has me sick.
I pull the pants on like they’re my armor. The shirt next; navy, the very one he used to compliment me on without thinking. He’d always tell me how it brings out the blue glint in my eyes. I want him to see me and remember something good. I want something to crack through that wall he’s built up to keep me out.
