Decidedly With Love

by Stina Lindenblatt

  “Which type of player are you?” I replied. Or maybe he donated neither time nor money.

  “I donate money to a charity that provides sports equipment to kids. Because of the cost, they might not otherwise be able to play hockey. And I participate in the annual wheelchair hockey game at the kids’ hospital.”

  Did I have “selfless” on my list of requirements for potential boyfriends? No—but it was a given. I’d written off a few individuals in the past because they didn’t believe in donating either time or money to a worthy cause.

  So, yes, my heart had warmed up a little bit more toward Travis. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, and I wasn’t looking to be a fake one.

  “How come that charity and event?” I asked.

  The smirk was back on his face. “Uh, uh. You first. Why the youth center?”

  The coins in the water shimmered under the bright store light overhead, almost as if encouraging me to tell him.

  “Because I understand what it feels like to be underprivileged. I grew up in foster care.”

  Which he would know if he remembered me from school.

  But he didn’t—so what was a girl to do?

  Apparently Aphrodite had an answer for that. The pump that I had turned off before climbing into the fountain suddenly turned on. Water burst up from the jets, hitting me full on—and I shrieked. Ugh!

  Then the fountain turned off as quickly as it had turned on, leaving me standing there with water dripping from my hair and down my body. My now-wet dress clung to me, leaving not much to the imagination, including my white lacy bra and underwear.

  “Sorry,” Lisa called out, returning from the back. “I accidentally hit the switch to the fountain.” Her gaze landed on me, soaked and still standing in the water, and her hand flew to her mouth. Not from shock. She was attempting to hold back a giggle.

  Nice.

  I stepped over the fountain’s low wall. Squish. Squish.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, her hand still covering her mouth. The corners of her eyes crinkled with barely held back laughter.

  Travis wasn’t doing much better.

  I tried to yank off a rubber boot—which wasn’t easy when your foot was wet and you were standing. Swaying on one foot, I grabbed the closest thing available to hold on to: Travis’s arm.

  And wow, the man worked out.

  Don’t think about his muscular body. Don’t think about his hot, muscular body.…

  I would’ve removed my hand from his arm, but it was either touch him or risk falling over.

  The boot eventually slipped free of my foot. I tilted it, pouring the water back into the fountain. Once it was empty, I placed the boot on the ledge and proceeded to do the same with the other one while still holding on to Travis.

  With what dignity I had left—which was pretty much zero—I walked toward the back where my office was located. With my body shivering, thanks to the air conditioning, I tossed an “I’ll be back in a moment” over my shoulder to Lisa.

  In my office, I scanned the area for something to dry off with.

  The door clicked shut behind me. I startled and spun around. Travis was standing in front of the closed door, his eyes dark and focused on my breasts. Or more specifically, my perky nipples pressing against the wet fabric of my thin bra and dress.

  I crossed my arms in front of me, doing my best to hide the view. Doing my best to warm my girls up.

  “Is this a good time to ask you again about being my fake girlfriend?” In his hand was a soft wool throw from the store. Red on one side and white on the other, it was covered in hearts of the opposite color.

  “So what’s the deal? You’ll give me the throw if I agree to be your fake girlfriend?” There might have been some teeth chattering when I said it. “And just so you know, that’s not going to work. For one, I can’t sell the blanket if it’s dirty.”

  “And what’s the second?”

  “It will take a lot more than a blanket for me to agree to be your fake girlfriend.” A deliciously warm blanket.

  “So does that mean you’re considering it?”

  I shook my head. “There’s nothing you can offer me that will make me change my mind.”

  “How about you not being forced to relocate? Would that cause you to change your mind?”

  I snorted a laugh. “How exactly do you expect to do that? The owner doesn’t want my store in the building anymore because it won’t fit with the new image.”

  “I might be able to change his mind.”

  “Right. Might. So what you’re really saying is I help you and at the end of the day I’m still screwed?”

  “No. That’s not it at all.” He stepped closer. “The blanket’s now mine. And I don’t care if it gets dirty.” When I didn’t say anything, he wrapped it around my shoulders. His finger accidentally brushed against my bare arm. And this time when I shivered, it was for an entirely different reason.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now back to you being my fake girlfriend.”

  I shook my head again. “Not happening.”

  “How about if I can’t get the owner to change his mind about your store by October first, I’ll help you find another location that fits your needs.”

  “That’s not enough. If I’m pretending to be your girlfriend, I won’t be able to date a real man.”

  “The last I looked, I am a real man.” He gestured at his shorts…and the noticeable bulge there. A bulge that wasn’t so noticeable earlier.

  A laugh burst free. “Sorry. I wasn’t laughing at your manhood,” I quickly said, doing my best to not start giggling.

  He raised an eyebrow and my attempt to curtail my giggle failed.

  “Are you doubting that I’m a real man?” His tone mocked but didn’t condemn.

  I wrapped the throw tighter around me and reined in my laugh. “Not at all. And that’s not what I meant when I said I won’t be able to date a real man. It means I can’t date anyone else.” Not that there was anyone else, but that was beside the point.

  “Why not?”

  I gave him my best well-duh expression. “I’m more of an exclusive dater. It doesn’t matter if you’re my fake boyfriend or real boyfriend, I can’t date someone else at the same time. It wouldn’t be fair to the other guy.”

  Travis chuckled—and the rich, hearty sound did nothing for my already taut nipples. “All right. What would it take for you to agree to be my fake girlfriend until hockey season begins, and to make up for not being able to date anyone else during that time? My helping you with your lease and what else…?”

  I frowned. “When does hockey season begin?”

  “October eighth.”

  Six weeks? That’s doable, I guess. “I’ve been thinking of a way to promote the store. I would love to host a special evening event, possibly a fundraiser with the money going to the youth center. It would bring people into the store and benefit both the store and the kids at the center.”

  “You mean like my teammates dancing around onstage and removing their clothes stripper style?” His eyes widened as if he hadn’t meant to say that but for some reason just blurted it out.

  “Ohmigod, that would be perfect. I agree to those terms,” I said in a rush. “You convince the owner of the building to let me stay and I’ll host a special fundraiser event with your teammates going Magic Mike. They don’t have to do the full monty. In fact, I’d prefer they didn’t. But they do have to come pretty close to it.”

  I knew he would never agree to it—which was too bad, actually. It would’ve been fun watching a bunch of professional hockey players dancing onstage for an audience of lust-filled, screaming women. And more importantly, the money raised would have been great for the youth center.

  “Okay,” he said.

  I blinked. I must have gotten water in my ears, because there was no way he would’ve agreed to all of that. “Wait—are you saying you’ll do all of that if I pretend to be your girlfriend
for six weeks?”

  “I’m saying exactly that.”

  No—my mouth didn’t flop open.

  11

  Travis

  What the hell was I thinking?

  That thought echoed through my head like the bells of Notre Dame—repeating itself again and again until the words were too soft to hear.

  There might have also been a few fucks thrown in for luck.

  Somehow Granny joking about my teammates dancing half-naked at her birthday party and then me blurting it to Wes at lunch had gotten the thought lodged in my brain. So when Emma mentioned the fundraiser for the youth center, the words about my teammates going Magic Mike just tumbled from my mouth.

  Why did I agree to her terms?

  Because otherwise she would have helped me for the wrong reason. She wasn’t being evicted like she’d been led to believe. So deceiving her that way felt as appealing as being knocked out of commission with diarrhea during a playoff game.

  No, I hadn’t missed the irony. I had no issue with deceiving Granny when it came to having a girlfriend—but I couldn’t do the same to Emma.

  Maybe it had something to do with her growing up in the system.

  Maybe it had something to do with her helping underprivileged kids.

  Either way, she deserved more than me lying to her.

  Did that mean I planned to come clean about Wes and the building?

  Hell, no. I didn’t want to risk her not helping me out. All she had to do was be my fake girlfriend, then Granny would be happy.

  So there you had it—except for one minor issue.

  Right. One I’m-so-totally-fucking-screwed major issue.

  Now I had to convince some of my teammates that stripping in front of a group of screaming women was a brilliant idea. Correction. Make that stripping and dancing in front of a group of screaming women was a brilliant idea.

  But this wasn’t like dancing at a nightclub. It needed to be choreographed. And what did a bunch of hockey players know about that?

  Emma’s grin faded. “What if your grandmother doesn’t believe I’m your girlfriend?”

  “Why wouldn’t she believe it?”

  “I’m not a very good actress…mostly because I’m not good at lying.” She lifted her shoulders in a what-can-you-do? shrug.

  “Didn’t you used to play make-believe as a kid?” I asked.

  “Sure I did, but that was different.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I never kissed anyone when I was playing make-believe.”

  I laughed. “Good point. So you don’t think you’ll be convincing if you have to kiss me?”

  Her face grew flushed and she shrugged again.

  A drop of water dripped from her hair and trickled down her cheek. I brushed it away with my thumb. She gasped softly, the pulse in her neck beating fast. I pressed a light kiss against her lips.

  She didn’t pull away—always a positive sign.

  With my mouth still tingling from the simple touch of my lips against hers, I kissed her again, this time a little harder. Unable to stop myself, I traced the tip of my tongue along her lower lip. She released a stuttering sigh.

  In the back of my head, I was vaguely aware of a door clicking open. “Sorry to interrupt,” a girl’s voice said.

  While I might have been a little dazed by the kiss, Emma wasn’t. The way she leaped back and banged into the desk, you’d have thought she had been poked with a branding iron.

  “Yes?” Emma asked, holding the blanket tightly around her, her wet dress clinging to her legs. Unfortunately, with the way she was gripping the blanket, I could no longer see her bra and pebbled nipples—the cause of my hard-on.

  “Any idea when we’re getting more Sensual Sunburst massage oil?” the girl in the doorway asked.

  “I put in an order for it not long ago. Let me just look through the shipment that came in this morning. It might be there.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell the customer you’ll be right out.”

  The girl gave me a quick, curious glance, then left.

  Emma turned around, scanning the office. It was only then that I noticed various sized shipping boxes stacked against the wall.

  She walked to one pile, shifted a few boxes around, and placed one on the floor. She opened it and searched through the contents.

  I guess whatever she was looking for wasn’t there. She moved the box to the side and grabbed another one.

  I crouched beside her. “You want any help?”

  She studied me for a moment before finally nodding. “If the massage oils were included in this shipment, they’ll be in one of these boxes.” She removed another one from the pile and handed it to me. “Thanks.”

  While I opened it, she grabbed a third box and pulled the top open. We both searched through our respective boxes.

  “What’s the oil called again?” I asked, holding a bottle of vanilla sugar massage oil. According to the label, the oil was self-heating and enhanced stimulation during intimate and erotic massages.

  Not surprisingly, my cock thought this was a good idea, and hinted I should pick up a bottle.

  Or two.

  “Sensual Sunburst massage oil.” Emma leaned over to see what I had in my hand. “Nope, not that one. Are there any other massage oils in the box?”

  One by one, I pulled each of them out far enough to check the labels. “Yes, but none of these are what you’re looking for.”

  I reached for another box similar to the ones we had been opening. “What made you decide to open the woman’s version of an adult store?”

  Emma huffed, then grumbled, “It’s not an adult store.”

  “You sell sex toys and porn, right? That makes this an adult store.”

  She glared at me. Clearly I’d hit a sore spot. “But unlike an adult store, the sex toys and porn sold here aren’t the hard-core ones designed for men. Plus they’re in a separate part of the store. The majority of the merchandise here supports the concept of love and romance. It’s not just about sex. It’s about finding the right person and being an equal with them. It’s about acceptance and being comfortable with who you are.”

  “So why this business instead of a bakery or a clothing store?”

  She laughed. “As much as I like baking, I’m not a morning person. So that was a definite no when it came to opening a bakery. I’d rather be in bed at four a.m. than making bread and other baked treats.”

  “So why the love store?”

  She shrugged, her attention on the closed box in front of her. “I guess that’s because I grew up in the foster care system. It’s not a very loving environment. I mean there are some good homes out there, but there are a lot of bad ones, too. The good news is you don’t stay long in the bad ones. The bad news is you don’t stay in the good homes for long either. Maybe I was just hoping the store would bring me luck when it came to finding someone to love me no matter what.”

  “Has it?”

  “Not yet. But in the meantime, I get to watch people in love. I get to see mothers with their young kids, and I get to see how much they love them.” Something about her voice on the last part gave me pause.

  The sadness.

  The emptiness.

  The pain.

  But that came as no surprise. Her parents had died and she was dumped in foster care. The same place I would have ended up if not for Granny.

  “How old were you when your parents died?” I asked. I had a feeling she was a lot younger than I had been when mine died.

  She chewed on her lip for a second, then opened the box. “My parents aren’t dead. Or maybe they are now and I’m not aware of it.”

  “What do you mean?” And why did I have a feeling that whatever had happened left her more damaged than she let on?

  She shrugged again and searched through the box. “It’s no big deal. They’re no longer in my life, and I’ve long since moved on.” She pulled out a bottle of massage oil. “Here it is.”
/>   Before I could say anything, she scrambled to her feet and disappeared out the office door.

  When she didn’t return after a few minutes, I left the room to search for her. The girl who had come looking for the massage oil was ringing it in, but Emma was nowhere to be seen. While I paid for the heart blanket, I asked her where Emma had disappeared to.

  “She went home to change into dry clothes. I doubt she’ll be long if you want to wait.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll catch up with her later.”

  First things first.

  I needed to convince my teammates to help me out with the second part of my deal with Emma—the part that involved our clothes coming off in front of a live audience.

  And for that, I needed all the luck I could get.

  12

  Emma

  By the time I returned to the store, after changing into dry clothes, Travis had already left. Fortunately. Yes, there might have been a good chance I regretted what I’d told him about my parents. Why couldn’t I have left it at, “Why yes, Travis, my parents are dead.”?

  What was so wrong about him believing that? It sure was better than him knowing that I wasn’t lovable and the people who counted the most had just given up on me.

  Not that it mattered what he thought…because it wasn’t like he cared. He wasn’t looking to settle down with a woman and have a happily ever after. He just wanted to make his grandmother happy.

  Had I expected him to give me the freaking brilliant idea for the fundraiser? Heck no. That alone made pretending to be his girlfriend worth it. Did I believe he would be able to convince the building owner to let my store stay? No. Not really. But at least some good would come from it when it came to the youth center.