Bedding the Fake Boyfriend: Bedding the Bachelors Book 10

by Virna DePaul

  He’d kill to know what she was thinking right now. If it was anything close to what he was thinking…

  “Favorite flavor of ice cream?” he asked, his voice sounding like he’d been sucking on gravel.

  “Still cherry vanilla. You?”

  His thoughts went off the rails again as he imagined her pink tongue trailing over an ice cream cone the same way she’d trailed it over him that time they’d—

  “Still chocolate,” he shot back, clearing his throat. “Is your favorite movie still The Notebook?”

  She let out a groan and covered her face with one hand. “Oh, God, you remember that? So embarrassing.”

  He’d taken her to see it opening weekend and she’d started sobbing so loudly that the people behind them had moved seats.

  “How could I forget? I was so nervous bringing you home because I was afraid your father was going to think I assaulted you or something.”

  “But those letters…and they just die together, curled up on the hospital bed!” she says, holding a hand over her heart. “It, like, rips your guts out.”

  “Should I assume it’s still your favorite, then?” he said, trying not to stare as the candlelight flickered, making her hair look like liquid fire.

  “It’s up there,” she acknowledged. “But I really loved Wonder Woman, too, so let’s go with that one if anyone asks. What about you?”

  “Big fan of superhero flicks too. Wonder Woman, Black Panther, Captain America.”

  “Noted,” she said, pausing to actually jot that down on the notebook she’d brought with her.

  “Music?” he asked just as the waiter swooped in and dropped off their plates.

  “All kinds. When I’m working out it’s mostly classic rock or old school rap music. When I’m trying to be Zen or fall asleep, I’m not ashamed to say I can get into some Enya. You?” she asked as she dug a fork into her blackened salmon.

  “It’s all over the place, depending on the day and my mood.” He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but at some point, this had stopped feeling like an interview about likes and dislikes for their upcoming trip and had started feeling like an actual date. Conversation came easy as they ate their meals and then ordered dessert.

  “Gio Esposito! Get out of here!” The low squeal over his shoulder had him wheeling around in his chair to find a pretty brunette approaching.

  Without missing a beat, she dropped low, gripped him by the lapel and pressed a kiss right to his mouth.

  Heavy, sweet perfume filled his head and he pulled away with a polite smile.

  “Amanda, how have you been?” he asked.

  “You’d know if you called, you sly fox,” she said with a low, husky laugh. “Who’s this?” she asked, turning her quickly cooling gaze to Rose.

  “Amanda, Rose. Rose, this is…Amanda.”

  He’d wanted to qualify it somehow, but fuck if he knew how. Amanda was a fuck buddy. They weren’t friends with benefits because they weren’t friends at all. Their relationship was very occasional, and very shallow. It had made perfect sense for both of them, having busy careers and needs and all, but now, with it being paraded in front of Rose, it felt shitty.

  Wrong somehow.

  “Hi, Amanda, nice to meet you,” Rose said without missing a beat.

  If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she didn’t care one way or another about Amanda or her place in his life. But there was no mistaking the almost brittle quality to Rose’s voice or the stiffness of that wide smile. Her “poker face” said it all.

  She was jealous.

  “Hi,” Amanda replied with a dismissive nod in Rose’s general direction before turning her attention back toward him. “Well, anyway Gio, it’s been awhile and I’d love to…catch up.” She trailed a finger over his shoulder and then straightened as the waiter returned with their desserts. “I’ll let you two get back to your meal, but do call, okay?”

  She scurried off before he could reply, which was good, because he had nothing to say.

  Rose picked up her spoon and dug it into the towering chocolate soufflé in front of her with an overly-bright smile. “This looks great, am I right?”

  “Rose…” he began, wondering what he could do to make the sudden tension between them go away. “Just so you know, we’re not dating.”

  “What?” she asked and then let out the world’s fakest sounding laugh. “Oh, her? It’s none of my business if you are. That has nothing to do with me. I’m your pretend girlfriend starting the second we get to Maine and ending the second we leave. Until then, what you do is none of my concern. I’m just the paid help.”

  He wanted to argue with her, but how could he? Still, it bothered him, how she kept dismissing the significance of her return to his life, and in doing so, dismissing the significance of what they’d once meant to one another. Maybe even what they could mean together again.

  After they finished their desserts in relative silence, she glanced down at her phone.

  “It’s after seven, I should really go. I have a bunch of appointments tomorrow and I’m meeting with a grant writer, so I’ve got to get some numbers together tonight. But thanks so much for dinner, it was both delicious and informative.”

  She stood and grabbed her purse off the back of the chair.

  “You’ll send me instructions about the flight and all?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow evening at the latest, yeah,” he replied. He joined her standing. “Rose—”

  “Okay, talk soon then.” He moved to follow her, but she held up a staying hand. “You don’t need to walk me out, thanks.”

  She turned and made a quick exit, leaving him to watch her go, wondering what the fuck just happened. It had gone from a great, easy evening with some laughs mixed in to positively icy on a dime. He’d been there and done that with her once already, and he wasn’t thrilled about doing it again.

  He looked down with a growl of irritation and then went still as he noticed her jacket hanging on the back of the spare seat.

  She wanted to act like a teenage girl and run away instead of talking out whatever problem she had with him, that was fine. But he was a grown ass man now, and that didn’t mean he had to take it lying down.

  With a muffled oath, he tossed some bills on the table and grabbed her jacket.

  Rose Whitman had walked away from him without a face-to-face explanation once, and he wasn’t going to let her get away with it a second time.

  Chapter 4

  What the hell had just happened?

  Her life was going along just fine, thank you very much, and now, after having Gio Esposito back in it for a total of four hours, everything felt like a total mess.

  And by everything? She meant her.

  Rose was shaking from head to toe, bitterly disappointed for who knew what reason, and wanting to scream into a pillow.

  She needed to take a freaking breath and get it together, because nothing had even happened. Their meeting had gone fine. Better than fine, actually. She’d added to her “Gio Facts” mental database and felt pretty comfortable that she knew enough about him between their past and the present to get by in most casual conversations. They’d had some delicious food and lovely wine.

  So why did it feel like she’d just been put through the ringer and left flapping in the wind?

  She gripped the steering wheel more tightly as that perfect face without a freckle in sight floated into her mind.

  Amanda.

  Clearly, she and Gio were sleeping together. Rose hadn’t been able to control feeling jealous, which was crazy given she’d given up any rights to Gio fifteen years ago. As for Gio, he’d looked uncomfortable, but she wasn’t sure if it was on her behalf or Amanda’s. He’d said they weren’t dating, but had they dated before? Were they serious? Or did they just occasionally hook up?

  Rose let out a low groan as her brain helpfully supplied another image, this one of Gio and Amanda entangled together on a massive bed, perfect, freckle-free bodies writhing togeth
er in ecstasy.

  “Shut up,” she muttered knocking a fist on her forehead sharply, like that would help dislodge her wayward thoughts.

  Who cared what this Amanda person was to him? It was none of her business. And, soon, she’d never have to think about her again. Or Gio, for that matter.

  Yup, in three days, she’d be on a plane to Maine. And in ten? She’d be back at home like she’d never left, only with $200,000 more than she’d had when she left. If she was still feeling bad, she could weep into that massive pile of Benjamins and think of all the people they were going to help with it.

  Feeling only marginally better, she pulled into her driveway a few minutes later with a solid plan.

  More wine now that she was done driving, another viewing of Wonder Woman, because nothing made her feel stronger than watching those badass Amazons wreck shop on the Nazis, and some comfort food. That fancy dinner was ancient history and she was going to eat some of these feelings away.

  She was just running through her options on that front and realized she was going to be forced to settle for cheese and crackers because she hadn’t been to the store when she saw a large silhouette on her doorstep.

  Gio?

  “Idiot,” she muttered, her heart beginning to beat again as she realized that was impossible. She’d left before he had and plus, there was no car in the driveway besides her own.

  The figure turned and waved.

  “Rafe!” A rush of relief flowed over her as she turned off the ignition, grabbed her stuff and then got out of the car.

  “Hey, neighbor,” he called with a grin. “I was practicing my new baked Alaska recipe and needed a guinea pig. I was just going to stick it in your freezer when you pulled up.”

  She smiled as she made her way to the door to meet him. She and Rafe had been neighbors for three years now, and he’d been the catch of a lifetime in that department.

  Not only did she have someone to exchange keys with and swap animals when one of them was going out of town, she also had a sounding board and shoulder to cry on pretty much whenever she needed, and vice versa.

  And to top it all off? He was an amazing pastry chef. It was like the heavens had dropped down an offering right into her lap. The only thing that could’ve made it better was if they had any attraction toward one another at all. But that was where the heavens had taken their ball and gone home.

  Rafe was easy as hell on the eyes. Tall, muscular but lean and rangy, with a mop of golden brown curls and a quick smile, all topped off with an Irish accent that made most women’s panties melt right off. But as impressive as the whole package was, all she felt when she looked at him was a sibling-type affection, and he felt the same.

  Rafe was as close to family as it got, which, for someone without any family at all? He was a real gift that she cherished.

  Now he was here, bearing baked perfection in her hour of need. One point for Rose when she so needed a win right now.

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you right now,” she murmured, shoving her key into the lock.

  “Are you talking to me or the Alaska?” Rafe asked with a chuckle.

  “Yes.”

  She shoved open the door and led the way in, straight to the kitchen. “How has your day been?” she asked as she dropped all her belongings onto the kitchen table and made a beeline for the mini wine rack.

  “I’m going to venture to guess it was better than yours,” he replied as he set the dish on the counter and studied her, shrewd hazel eyes missing nothing. “Is this skip-the-plates level melodrama?”

  She nodded. “Oh, yeah, for sure. Spoons only.”

  He slid open the drawer and pulled out two soup spoons and closed it with his hip.

  “Awesome. It hit me on the way over here that I haven’t spoken a single word to another person today until just now, so I could use some excitement. Lay it on me.”

  And she did. After pouring each of them a glass of wine, in between bites of his baked Alaska, she told him about Gio and their surprise reunion, and about the deal they’d struck. When she was done telling her story, he stared at her.

  “Wow!”

  “Right?”

  He held his spoon to her lips. “Open.”

  She obliged as he shoveled a massive bite of creamy perfection into her mouth. Then he nodded and said, “This is all good, Rose.”

  She raised her brows. “You really think so?”

  Rafe nodded.

  She let out a confused laugh, picking up her own spoon and digging it into the Alaska. “What’s good about it? I was sure you’d say I was nuts.”

  “Oh, you’re nuts. But not for this. I actually think it’s a smart thing to do.” He took a sip of his wine as he set down his spoon. “The guy who let you down in high school, I assume it was Gio?”

  “The one and only.”

  “You’ve mentioned him more than once. Way more than once. It’s like one of those unresolved aches people carry ‘round with them. Now you actually have a chance to resolve it.”

  “How?”

  “By regaining your own power, Rose. By being honest, with him and yourself. By admitting that you didn’t just agree to this arrangement for a huge charitable donation, but because things aren’t over between you two. Not yet. You’ve never told him what you heard at that party. Only when you face yourself and the past can you truly move on—with or without Mr. Gio Esposito.”

  Her stomach did a somersault.

  Jesus, was he right?

  Freaking Rafe, dropping truth bombs when she just wanted him to nod and tell her she was doing it all just right.

  “But I’m the paid help and we’re there for his sister’s wedding. I’m not going to go there and make it all about me or open what could be a major can of worms while he’s supposed to be enjoying this special time with his family.”

  “Agreed,” Rafe replied. “Do what you’ve been tasked to do, and then, on the way back, open up the discussion. Hash it out then and tell him the truth. And I mean the whole truth, this time, Rose.”

  Something about the way he was looking at her made her pause. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you never told him what you heard. Never told him that was the reason you were breaking up with him? Why?”

  “It didn’t matter why I was breaking up with him. I didn’t want to rehash it. Didn’t want to hear him justify it.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe you were afraid what he said would change your mind. And then you’d still have to deal with all the insecurities you had about your relationship in the first place, including your fear that he was about to break things off with you before he left for school.”

  Rose stared at her friend. She wanted to vehemently deny what he was saying, but it made sense. Thinking about the reasons she’d broken up with Gio made her stomach hurt, but not as much as the hurt in his voice when she’d told him he wasn’t the man she wanted. And part of her had always regretted not telling him the truth. No matter how he’d acted at that party, he’d deserved more than what she’d given him.

  Rafe was right. She needed to tell Gio the truth in order to move on. And she would. After the wedding.

  As if reading her mind, Rafe held up his spoon. “Here’s to some fucking closure,” he said.

  She clinked her spoon against his. “To closure.”

  But as she continued to eat the delicious dessert, and drink the wine, and talk with her friend, Rose didn’t think about closure or the past.

  She thought about her dinner with Gio. How she’d felt when Amanda had kissed him.

  And how she’d wished she was the one kissing him instead.

  A boyfriend.

  Rose had a fucking boyfriend. Seemingly, a live-in, no less, because there was no second car in the driveway.

  Gio popped his Maybach into reverse and slowly backed out of her driveway. The last thing he needed was her hearing his tires squealing and realizing he’d stopped by.

  He spared a glance at the jacket on his
passenger’s seat and let out a low laugh. Some stupid, thick part of him had wondered if maybe she’d left if behind hoping he would follow her. Or maybe “wondered” wasn’t the right word. More like “hoped.” But he must have imagined the jealousy in her expression when Amanda had come up to him, and this whole situation was a Level 10 clusterfuck. Memories that had finally lessened their grip to the point that he could live his life and not think of her for a whole day had come back, tenfold. Now, instead of just haunting his dreams, she was haunting his waking hours too.

  And all the while, she was living it up with her man in their modest little house that was apparently rich in love as they laughingly fed one another and shared a bottle of wine.

  He’d always wondered what “the guy she wanted after all” would look like, and now he knew.

  “Motherfucker,” he muttered, bashing his palm against the wheel.

  How, in all their discussion about the logistics of this thing, had the fact that she had a boyfriend not come up? It hadn’t occurred to him to ask outright for a couple of reasons. First, because what kind of man let his woman go away with another guy he didn’t even know for a whole week? And second, because he’d never seen any mention of a guy on her social media. Not that she posted very often, but still.

  “Okay, regroup, shit for brains. This is a good thing,” he counseled himself, taking a few deep breaths to quell the jealousy churning in his gut. “At least you know where you stand now.”

  Which meant he could get his guard back up and focus on what was important: helping his amazing sister have the perfect week she so deserved without their meddling grandmother ruining it with her guerilla-warfare level meddling while also helping Rose and a great cause. After that, they could go back to being strangers again and maybe see each other in another fifteen years.

  That was best for everyone, after all.

  So why did the very thought of it make him feel like someone had hit him in the dick with a sledgehammer?

  Chapter 5

  “You can go ahead and buckle your seatbelt. We’ll be on our way in just a minute.”