“Read any Nicholas Sparks lately?”
He nearly choked. “I wouldn’t say he’s my go-to for material, but I’ve read a few.”
She pointed to the table and took the same seat she did the night before. “I’m calling bullshit.”
He sat and stared at her while he rolled through the titles he’d read, then he tapped his chest. “I’m wounded that you think I’d lie. As a matter of fact, the last Sparks book I read was Safe Haven, but I’ve also read The Notebook and A Walk to Remember, which nearly gutted me. Remember, I grew up in a houseful of women, and they influenced which books were on the shelves. Two against one is a majority.”
She reached over and touched his hand. “You poor baby.” It was a soft touch that radiated heat across his skin. He was almost certain it was from her holding her mug, but he couldn’t be sure. “How did you ever survive?”
“You go with what you know. I think growing up under a woman’s influence has helped me be a better man.”
“How so?”
He shrugged. “I don’t blush when I have to run to the store to buy feminine products. I know the difference between lipstick and lip pencil and understand why both are important. I’ve been through enough bouts of PMS and heartbreaks to have insight into how tough women have it and how strong they are to deal with knuckleheads like us men.”
She stared at him for a moment and then nodded her head. “So, you’re basically a girl with a penis.”
His head shook vigorously. “Noooo, all I’m saying is that to be a good partner to a woman, you have to stand in her stilettos for a day. Not literally, but figuratively. Having been raised by a single mother and having a sister gave me insight into how women feel and think, and I believe that helps me be more aware as a man.”
She patted his hand and drew hers back. “I like that you think so, but seeing is believing.” She sipped her coffee and set her mug back on the table. “Tell me, were you just in the neighborhood, or did I do something nefarious like park my car and not turn my wheels to the curb?”
He liked her quick wit. She had a sharp tongue, but that meant she had a fire in her, and he enjoyed a woman with passion.
He sat for a minute, thinking about how to broach the subject of a mutual agreement. The tapping of his fingers on the wooden table filled the silence.
“Do you want to pace the walkway again for a few minutes?” Her shoulders set with seriousness, but her eyes danced with merriment.
“No, I’m just trying to figure out how to word what I have to say, so it comes out right.” He picked up his mug and downed his remaining coffee.
“A man who thinks before he speaks. You were raised by women.” She leaned back with a smug smile on her face. “Blurt it out. I work with Troglodytes, so I’m used to all the grunting and chest pounding.”
“I’ve tucked my caveman away for now. He only comes out when I’m threatened or jealous or around Red because I’m not really a fan.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up his hand. “I know you like him, and you want him, which is why I’m here. I have a proposition for you.”
“Ooh, now that sounds like fun.”
She wiggled in her seat, and everything about it was alluring. Something told him this was a bad idea, but what other choice did he have? He stuck his foot in his mouth with his mother, and Deanna was the only one who could help him pull it out.
He took two breaths. One for cleansing and one for courage. “I need a fake girlfriend, and in return, I’ll do whatever you need that’s legal to make Red jealous.” He shrugged.
“I guess ticketing him for breathing is out of the question?”
He considered that for a second. It might be fun ticketing Red for minor infractions like jaywalking. It wasn’t something they did in Aspen Cove, but karma was a bitch named Merrick.
“Do they honestly ticket you in California for not turning your wheels to the curb?”
She sighed and nodded. “Yes, and it’s total BS because I didn’t even live on a hill. I get it if you’re on an incline, but my car wasn’t going anywhere.”
He understood the policy and the safety factor, but there were so many more important things to focus on than minor traffic violations. Unless … you were an asshole named Red.
“About my proposition? What do you think?”
“I need more details. How long are we talking, and who are you trying to fool?”
“I think I’ll be good for a weekend, but I’ll default to your needs.”
“A man who cares about my needs—shocking.” She pulled her hair from her ponytail and let the strands fall over her shoulder. Something florally like the scent of lavender wafted through the air.
“If your needs aren’t being met, you’re looking at the wrong man.” He lifted his brows in a challenge.
“You’re probably right, but you know … every girl loves a bad boy.”
“Until she’s visiting him in jail and applying for conjugal dates.”
Her nose scrunched up. “Ick, I thought that was only in the movies?”
“Nope. It happens, but it depends on the prison and the behavior of the inmates.”
She shivered and laid her palms flat on the table. “Enough about bad boys. Tell me why you need me?”
He explained about his mother’s threat to bring a “friend” and how he’d blurted out her name.
“Do you think she’ll see me as a perfect match?”
“You’re a woman of childbearing years. That’s all she’ll care about.”
“Ooh, high standards.”
He stood and took his mug to the sink.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“Do I have to kiss you?”
He spun around to face her. “Was the first time that bad?”
She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, which was so damn sexy that he had to turn away.
“No, that’s the problem. The kiss was good. It could be a distraction. You know, like chocolate. It’s really good, but if you eat too much, it’s bad news.”
He turned back to look at her. “You don’t have to kiss me unless you want to.”
“Do I have to cook for your mom?”
That would be a fantastic idea. “Can you cook?”
“Does a bird have feathers?”
He moved toward her. “If you’re cooking chicken, I’d prefer it to be plucked. I’m pretty sure my mom would like that too.”
“Okay, so I’m cooking, but you’re buying the food.”
“Deal.” He offered her his hand to shake on it.
“Are we doing this?”
“It would seem so. Let’s shake on it.”
Her palm fit inside his, and within seconds, they had a deal.
“When will you need me?” he asked.
“How about Wednesday night at Bishop’s Brewhouse? It’s karaoke night, and the band is always there. I’ll buy.”
“Not a chance, babe. I’m an old-fashioned guy, and my woman never pays.”
“Are we starting already? If that’s the case, then I’ll drink top-shelf.”
She was a sassy one. This could be fun.
“Only the best for you.”
“Is babe what you’re going to call me?”
He had no idea. It just came out and felt natural.
“Is it a problem?”
“No, I’ve never had a nickname. I guess babe is good. Is there anything I should call you?”
“Anything but asshole is fine.”
“Okay, sweetie.” She stood and moved toward the coffeepot. “You want another cup, love?” Her voice softened on the term of endearment.
“I like that one, and no, I have to get to work so I can afford to pay for your top-shelf liquor.”
She kicked up a heel and giggled. “I’m not cheap or easy … well, maybe I’m one or both. I’m a bit confused these days.”
He followed her to the door. “Don’t ever let anyone else define who you are. Be you.”
She almost wilted
in front of him.
“What if being me isn’t enough?”
He lowered himself a few inches until they were eye to eye. “Anyone who doesn’t see your value isn’t worth your time.” He kissed her forehead and opened the front door. “See you later, babe.”
“Wednesday at six, love. Don’t be late.”
“And keep you waiting? Never.” He walked to the cruiser with a lightness a big man shouldn’t feel. It was as if he were floating. This fake relationship might be the best one he’d ever had.
Chapter Six
Deanna stared at the pile of clothes on the bed. She was sure a dress and heels were far too fancy for Bishop’s Brewhouse, but she had nice legs and wanted to show them off.
Her nerves itched on the inside. Somehow things had gotten muddled in her brain. She was going on a fake date with Merrick, to try to win back Red, but she had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t the real deal with the handsome deputy sheriff. Her eyes had to stay on the prize.
She picked up her tattered jeans, the ones she paid more for to have holes in them. Stepping into them, she tugged them over her thighs—maybe she should stop with the muffins and brownies. Was that why Red dropped her like a hot brick?
She moved toward the full-length mirror, hopping into her jeans until she got there. She turned and looked over her shoulder to stare at her bottom.
“I’ve seen worse.” She’d seen him with worse. Maybe that was it. She was smack dab in the middle of average. She had an ass that fell somewhere in between Kardashian and Kunis.
She moved back to the bed and selected an off-the-shoulder tunic. One last look in the mirror confirmed that she wasn’t trying too hard. No doubt, she’d blend in with all the locals and pale in comparison to the groupies.
“Ugh … the groupies.” They came out of the woodwork on Wednesdays to drive to Aspen Cove. Bishop’s Brewhouse made a killing on hump day.
Once she checked her makeup for a final time and slicked on her favorite mango flavored lip gloss, she was out the door. She debated between driving and walking and finally decided to walk. If Merrick was buying, she was drinking, and alcohol and cars were never a good mix.
Walking through her mostly empty neighborhood, she took in the old, vacant bungalows and tried to picture a time when the street was bustling with activity. When small children played ball in the yard and mothers in pretty floral dresses brought them lemonade and cookies. Aspen Cove was picture-perfect now, even in its abandonment; she couldn’t imagine what it was back then.
As she turned toward Main Street, she caught a glimpse of Merrick walking into the bar. He was hard to miss with his height. Not that Red was a small man at nearly six feet tall, but those extra inches Merrick had on him made him look bigger than life. At five foot eight, she used to be the tall girl, but standing next to the new deputy made her feel downright petite.
Just as she gripped the handle to open the door, a large hand covered hers. She swung around to find Red tucked up close behind her.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
Her first instinct was to melt and say yes, but she knew better than to give in so easily. That was her problem. She’d been a doormat for the man for years by catering to his needs and making sure that anything Red wanted, Red got, but no more.
“I wish I could, but I’ve got a date.”
His eyes grew wide. “With that asshat?”
“I’m not sure who you’re referring to, but my date is with Merrick.” She heaved a sigh and smiled broadly. “He’s such an honorable man.” With a tug, she pulled the door open and walked inside, leaving Red on the threshold.
In the darkened bar, she searched for her fake boyfriend and found him at the bar ordering drinks.
He spotted her immediately and looked at her the way she had dreamed Red would. Merrick took her in slowly like he was savoring the sight of her. The door opened behind her, and Red walked in. She didn’t need to turn to see it was him. She could tell by the way Merrick’s jaw ticked.
“Hey, babe.” He rushed toward her and wrapped his arms around her like he hadn’t seen her in a lifetime when it had only been a few days. His lips brushed the top of her head, so naturally, she felt like this was her everyday life. “I ordered you a beer, but if you’d like a wine or a mixed drink, I’m happy to change the order.”
She tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “Beer is great. If I have wine, I’m guaranteed to make poor choices.”
Merrick quirked a brow. Some men had stoic faces that didn’t show emotion. She was certain Merrick could put on a poker face as effective as any man, given he was in law enforcement and most likely trained to shutter his emotions, but when he was off duty and let down his guard, his face showed everything. Right now, he had questions about wine and poor choices.
“We all choose poorly from time to time. One bad decision isn’t the equivalent of a string of them.”
“Sounds like there’s a story to tell. Let’s get our beers, and I’m all ears.” If she was going to play her part, she needed to know more about him. Mothers were tricky when it came to their kids. If Merrick’s mom wanted him married and was picking out options, she’d want to make sure Deanna was the right fit. The right fit would need to know details about him. Details that only a real girlfriend would know.
Merrick grabbed their beers and led her over to a corner table. The bar wasn’t packed yet, but by eight o’clock, it would be a mosh pit of bodies jockeying to see who the flavor of the night would be. Now with Alex off the market, there were only three single band members left. Red and Gray would definitely come to the bar tonight. Griffen Taylor, who just signed on, was in transition and moving from Denver to Aspen Cove to avoid the commute to the recording studio. She wasn’t sure if he would show tonight or not.
“How has your week been?” Merrick pulled out her chair, and she took a seat with her back to the stage. She was sure he’d done that on purpose. To have her mad dogging Red wouldn’t lead anyone to believe their relationship was credible.
“It was good. I found a house for Griffen, and I’m negotiating a fair price from that Van der Veen guy. He owns a lot of the properties in town.”
“I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard of him. His reputation isn’t all that great.”
“He’s a businessman first, so if you speak his language, then he’s all right. It’s a good thing he’s selling the properties and not renting them. I could see him as a slumlord if that was the case. He’s the kind of guy that would tell you he’s charging you more for rusty water because it’s mineral-rich.”
“How did you talk him into a fair deal, and who’s Griffen?”
“Let’s start with Griffen; he’s the new keyboardist for the band. He’s moving up from Denver.”
Merrick nodded. “It’s good to see the town growing.” He lifted his beer. “Shall we toast to new beginnings?”
She picked up her mug and tapped his. “To new beginnings.” Her head turned slightly to peek Red’s way, but Merrick cupped her cheek.
“Don’t look at him. I’ll tell you everything. Right now, he’s sitting at the end of the bar glaring at me. That’s exactly what we want. Now tell me about Mason Van der Veen, and how you negotiated with a man like him?”
She could feel the heat of Red’s stare on her back. She thought it would make her feel flattered, but all it made her feel was angry because he was treating her like a bone he abandoned, and now that another dog was interested, he wanted it back.
She took two more sips before she continued. “Mason is a man motivated by money, so I spoke his language. One of the things I generally do well in my life is negotiate. I wouldn’t be a good assistant to Samantha if I didn’t. So, when he tried to blackball me on the price, I laid out the numbers. While Aspen Cove is growing, and there is a glut of vacant homes, many of them aren’t occupancy ready.”
“I would have thought that would make his bargaining power better.”
“You would think, but it’s fal
l, and that means the selling season here is on the waning edge. No one wants to buy a house that needs everything from flooring to insulation when the temperature drops. People who buy houses here are residents. The tourists move to places like Breckenridge or Estes Park and get their cute little seasonal cabins.” She carved hieroglyphics in the side of the frost on the glass. “I told him he could sell today for x amount of dollars or hope that next year, he’d get the same.”
“And he sold it to you?”
She nodded her head. “I can be quite persuasive when I need to be.”
He leaned in, and she was confident he was going to kiss her.
“I bet you can,” he whispered near her ear and pulled back, looking like he’d just won the lottery.
“I thought you were going to kiss me to make Red jealous.”
Merrick pulled that full lower lip between his teeth. It was a gesture that made him look playful and sexy. Did he know that and use it to his advantage?
“I don’t need to kiss you. He’s already turning the color of his name.”
“Really?”
“Yes, does that make you happy?”
Did it? This was what their agreement was about. He was helping her get Red back, and she was helping him avoid a maternal intervention.
“Yes, I suppose it does.”
“Make sure, sweetheart, because it’s about to get real, really fast.”
She opened her mouth to ask what he meant, but before she could utter a word, he said, “You are so damn sexy, Deanna.” He leaned over and kissed her. It started as a sweet lingering peck, but before she knew it, her arms wrapped around his neck, and somehow she was out of her chair and in Merrick’s lap. Her lips parted, and their tongues met. His was velvety soft and tasted so sweet she was sure he was made of sugar. His lips were dreamy like pillows dipped in passion. When he pulled back, she was dizzy.
“He was on his way over. That was a diversion. No man is going to come over and watch his woman kiss another man.”
“Oh, right.” It took her a second to get her bearings. She’d been kissed plenty in her thirty years but never once had a kiss made her lose her marbles like that.
One Hundred Mistakes: An Aspen Cove Romance Book 16 Page 4
