Fake It

by Jennifer Chance

  “You’d be amazed at what I enjoy doing to total strangers.”

  Anna’s jaw loosened at the unexpected comment, but she gritted her teeth to hold it still. She picked up her glass with a hand that shook only a little, and regained her composure as Jake looked around.

  “Since when have you started hanging here?” he asked. “I’ve never seen you out anywhere before.”

  “I work a lot.” Anna followed his glance and tried to get her bearings as she took in the pub’s backbar and mirrors, the crowded room. Jake relaxed against the bar, shifting toward her again, and Anna fought the urge to lean away from his rough handsomeness. Then she fought a crazy compulsion to lean forward, to press against his warmth even though the room was anything but cool. Idly, she wondered what he would feel like under his worn leather jacket and white T-shirt. Probably like he looked: lean and rugged and hot as hell. And she needed to stop thinking about that right now if she wanted to have an intelligent conversation with the guy.

  Jake’s next words startled her out of her reverie. “So tell me about your boyfriend, Dave.”

  Anna grimaced, glancing back at him. This guy must think I’m a complete loser. “It’s kind of a long story,” she said, not even bothering to hide the weariness in her voice.

  Then Jake smiled again, and she almost forgot her name. “I’ve got all the time you need.”

  Chapter 2

  Jake Flynn watched Anna blush for about the fifteenth time since he’d sat down. Piles of thick, satiny, blonde curls spilled out of her ponytail, and her pink T-shirt and worn jeans hugged her curves closely enough to raise the heat in the room a good ten degrees. He’d rarely seen the woman wear anything but suits and heels, but apparently even she let her hair down on occasion. And for that, God bless summer in Boston.

  Granted, he still had his jacket on, but he wore the thing everywhere no matter what the weather. At the speeds he traveled, he needed the protection. In general, though, he was a minimalist when it came to clothing. And the more minimal the clothes he found on Anna Richardson the better.

  Now he stripped off his jacket and folded it over on the bar, not missing the renewed flush climbing up Anna’s neck as her gaze lingered on his arms, his hands. He was already half-hard, and if she kept that up, she was going to find herself against a wall.

  And … great. Now he was all the way hard. “Aren’t you a little old for an imaginary friend?” he asked, just to redirect some of the blood back to his brain.

  Anna glanced away. “Don’t make it sound like that.” She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, and Jake’s fingers twitched, wanting to untuck it again. “It’s not like this is any fun for me. I do it to protect myself.” She smiled weakly, not quite looking back at him. “You’d be amazed at how many people take an active interest in my love life.”

  He felt his brows lift, and gave her an easy grin. “I can imagine.”

  He’d noticed her almost immediately, of course, right after he’d moved into his grandmother’s brownstone. Gran had finally agreed to head upstate to be closer to the rest of the family, still not quite ready for a nursing home, but definitely ready to be around those who loved her. Unfortunately, the brownstone she’d so jealously guarded was now about forty years out-of-date, and Jake had had his hands full cleaning it up and getting it ready for sale. He’d been his family’s obvious choice to do the heavy lifting—you couldn’t get in trouble if you were wiped out from moving furniture, right?—but he’d needed the change of scenery, anyway. Besides, he was happy to help. He wasn’t the same kid they’d forced to hit the road when he was barely eighteen. He’d had a long time to wrestle his demons down.

  Even better, the bikes had followed him, all the way to Boston. Even in the middle of a bunch of snooty brownstones, they seemed to seek him out. So he’d had plenty of work to keep him busy.

  Of course, even with all of that, his bouncy blonde neighbor had been a major distraction from the get-go. She’d haunted his dreams ever since the first time she’d strolled by his garage in a too-proper suit and flirty shoes. Truth be told, she looked like some sort of forties pinup model, and he’d worked that fantasy far too many times to count.

  Now he waited her out, and Anna caved, like women always did. “Look, I’m sure it’ll sound like no big deal to you. My last boyfriend and I broke up about six months ago—or he broke up with me, if you want to get technical about it—and everyone I know wants to fix me up with every nice guy they know. It’s like an epidemic.”

  “Well, maybe they shouldn’t be trying to fix you up with nice guys,” Jake said. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

  Anna’s startled glance flew to his, then stayed there for the briefest second before skittering away. He watched her gaze shift to her hands, to her friends behind the bar, to anywhere but back at him. He considered the friends. The tall one hadn’t paid much attention, but the little one had pegged him the moment he’d walked in. Now, however, both of them were so far over on the other side of the bar that they were practically in the next zip code. Interesting.

  “So.” He turned back to Anna. “What? You were thinking about using that line just now to pick up someone new? That’s your plan?”

  “I was just practicing … oh, never mind.” Anna finished off her drink, then smacked it down on the counter. “I should go.” She dug into her jeans pocket for money, a show Jake definitely enjoyed. She tossed a five on the bar and turned to him with a polite smile. “Thank you for the drink.”

  He laid one hand on her arm. The light touch effectively pinned her to the barstool, and she was forced to look straight into his face.

  “I can help you out, you know,” he said.

  “What?” Anna blinked at him, and the naked hope in her gaze caught him right in the gut. She wanted him. Maybe not as badly as he wanted her but pretty damn close. Every primal instinct growled at him to take her, but Jake forced his mouth to soften, his fingers to drift down to her elbow.

  He offered her another smile to soothe the confusion in her startled blue eyes. “I mean, maybe I can help you land your date.”

  “Oh! Oh, well, thank you,” she said, her face stiffening as she realized that his words were not exactly matching whatever idea she’d been working on in her mind. Jake wondered if he was the usual star of her fantasies … and how far they actually went. Anna cleared her throat, but her voice still sounded a little strangled. “But I’m good, truly. I seriously doubt you could help me do that anyway.”

  “Do you?” He’d moved closer to her during the exchange, and her light, crisp perfume enveloped him again. It was soft and feminine, and it suited her perfectly. Him as well. He wanted to learn more about Anna Richardson, and he sure as hell planned to enjoy the process. “You’re looking for a man, and I happen to be one,” he said. “Who knows? Maybe I can give you the one tip that makes all the difference. Who was your friend trying to set you up with? Some guy named Nick … or was it Matt?”

  Anna groaned and sat back down heavily. She glanced over to her buddies again, the pixieish sweetheart and the tall, lean troublemaker, both of whom apparently had decided it was time to rearrange the pub’s pint glasses. “Normally Dani’s more attentive than this.”

  Jake shrugged, watching her. “Maybe she wants us to get to know each other.”

  Anna’s smooth, fair skin flushed, right on schedule, and he leaned in closer to her, stopping just short of brushing against her shoulder. “So tell me why you need to seduce a man.”

  “I don’t! I mean …” Anna took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m in my friend Kristen’s wedding. She has this fixation with matchmaking, and she’s lined up one—no, make that two—unsuspecting men to launch at me. By the time I arrive, I’m sure there’ll be more. Even worse, my ex will be at the wedding, and it sort of seems like he wants to get back together. I’m going to be trapped.”

  “So you need a date.”

  “No, I need my boyfriend ‘Dave.’ He’s been a running story for the past
six months now, and he’s been working very well, thank you. Only now I’m expected to produce the man.”

  “And since he doesn’t exist …”

  “I have to find someone to stand in for him.” Anna hesitated, casting her eyes downward toward her little notebook. “But I haven’t taken the time to look, and now it’s nearly too late. The wedding’s next weekend.”

  “Mmm, yeah. A week isn’t much time.”

  Anna shot him a look, clearly searching for sarcasm in a line that should have been dripping with it. Jake returned her regard evenly, forcing any twinkle out of his eyes. “What about an escort service?” he asked, wondering if she’d be shocked at the suggestion.

  To his surprise, Anna just shrugged. “Tried it. Way too expensive for a whole weekend, and I was willing to pay a lot.” She waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter, like I said. The girls are taking me out tomorrow—and with the look they have planned for me, I should find someone. If not, then it’s all over.”

  “The look?”

  Anna picked up her drink to hide her face. “I told you, I’m desperate,” she mumbled. “We’re going to Allston-Brighton and I’ll be dressed to kill. Or so they keep telling me.”

  Jake worked to stay focused on the conversation. But the image of pinup girl Anna Richardson “dressed to kill” was going to torture him the rest of the night. What did that even mean on a body like hers? “Well, then, it shouldn’t be all that difficult to pick up a guy,” he said. “Women do it all the time.”

  “I don’t—” she said, but then seemed to realize how close he was to her, her eyes going wide as he invaded her personal space.

  “You’re going to have to move up close to him,” Jake continued. “A lot like this, so only he can hear you. Got it?” When she nodded, he lowered his voice, leaning in. Every inch of Anna’s tantalizing curves were now within reach. It was all he could do not to skim his hands over them. “And then you say one of your lines. Such as …”

  To his surprise, Anna swayed toward him, looking up as if he were her whole world. She dropped a hand almost unconsciously to steady herself. It connected with the rough solidity of his jeans, and he could barely mask his sudden intake of breath.

  “You know,” she murmured, her voice throaty and low. Then words spilled out of her so fast she didn’t seem to have time to be embarrassed. “I have somewhere I need to be this weekend, and I don’t want to go alone.”

  She moved in closer, her lips now brushing Jake’s ear as her voice deepened. “How would you like to get away for the weekend? You can spend your days at a beach, I’ll pick up all your costs. Nothing but sun, surf, and a few appearances as my boyfriend, that’s it. I just really need a man for the weekend …” Anna touched her tongue to Jake’s earlobe, and his insides went on full alert. “And you definitely qualify.”

  As soon as the last words were out, Anna propelled herself backward and hopped onto her stool again, her breath hiccupping in her throat. Jake didn’t look at her for a moment, but he did take a long, measured drink of his beer.

  “It might work,” he acknowledged.

  “Oh?” Anna’s voice sounded agonized, and he flicked a glance at her.

  “You do realize you sound unbelievably hot, right? Is that your plan?”

  She winced. “Oh. Sorry, I guess that was over the top.” She laced and unlaced her fingers, trying to regain her air of prim innocence, though that ship had definitely sailed. “I wouldn’t say that to someone I actually was going to ask, of course. But you’re safe, remember? I’m just practicing here.”

  Oh, hell no. “I’m that safe?”

  “Yes. No. I’m sorry.” Her cheeks now scarlet, she stood up again and grabbed her notebook. “Um, I should go.” She reached out with her free hand to touch his shoulder, realizing too late that she shouldn’t, and ending up awkwardly patting his bicep. Her fingers were hot and trembly. “Thanks for your help, though,” she said. “I do appreciate it.”

  Jake turned and caught her hand, his blood pressure spiking at her nervous jolt. “You stay here. Your friends are staring at you, and you have to plan for tomorrow night. And as for the help”—he squeezed her hand lightly—“it was my pleasure.”

  “Well, I doubt that,” she said. Her lips were soft and sweet and looked good enough to eat. “But thank you. You’re very kind to say so.”

  Jake couldn’t keep the intensity out of his voice or his gaze. “There are many things that I’ve been called, Anna,” he said, his words low and intended only for her ears. “Kind is usually not among them, and neither is safe, come to think of it. Remember that.”

  He left her staring after him, but not for long, he knew. Her friends would be diving in to get the goods on him the moment he cleared the pub’s door. Though he’d never had a reason to talk to the little one, he did recognize her. She had to be Erin Connelly, the owner of the brownstone where Anna lived. He couldn’t really remember her from his own trips to Boston as a kid, but his grandma had told him about the little dynamo when she’d given him a full rundown on the neighborhood. Erin was a hopeless romantic for everyone but herself, to hear Gran tell the tale. So she would definitely tell him where to be the next night, and hopefully even more about one Miss Anna Richardson. There wasn’t so much going on with his bikes that he couldn’t slip away for the weekend, if Anna asked him to go with her.

  If he had anything to say about it, Anna would be making that request. Maybe even tomorrow night.

  And by the end of next weekend, she’d maybe be able to describe him as something more interesting than safe.

  Chapter 3

  “KeepHimHot.com? Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Hey! I have to figure out how to talk to a guy, remember?” Anna hurriedly shut down the browser as Erin wheeled into the kitchen behind her. “I’ve only got five real days of prep, here. The moment I land Mr. Weekend, I’ve got to start tutoring him on everything I’ve ever said about Imaginary Boyfriend Dave. He has to be perfect, or everyone’s going to figure out that I was lying this whole time.”

  “And what if they do?” Erin prodded her. “So you tell them you lied to protect your privacy. What’s the big deal?”

  Anna stared at Erin. Of course she was right, but how could Anna explain without seeming even more pathetic than she already was? “It’s probably not going to make any sense to you,” she said. “You’re an artist. Everything you do involves breaking out of the box, bending the rules.”

  Erin grimaced. “Well, I’m not sure that’s really—”

  “It’s totally the case.” Anna shook her head. “But up until the Dave thing, I was the exact opposite: a rules girl. I ran with the right crowd, made the grades, chose the right schools—you name it. I did everything right. Then suddenly I get this ridiculous fake boyfriend, and it was like I broke free. I could create this perfect guy, who said everything right and did the craziest things, and nobody even blinked at it. It was the most empowering thing I’ve ever done. I became a different person.”

  “A person different from who you are right now? Because I kind of like that girl.”

  Anna smiled. “I like her, too. But she got to where she is by going along, and that’s not always so cool anymore. And with Todd being reassigned back to Boston this month, he’s just right there, in my face, reminding me of everything I liked about him before he turned into such a dick. I just—I want to live my own life, on my own terms, and not worry about anyone else.” She twisted her lips wryly. “Even if it is a made-up life.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Erin’s voice was suddenly emotional, and Anna glanced up at her. Oh, no. She’d said too much. At her job, she was a master at presentations, able to share exactly the right amount of information without making anyone uncomfortable. When it came to her own life, however, she always overdid it, and even with all her words she could never quite get her point across. She just never knew the perfect thing to say, so she tried saying it six or seven ways, and none of them were right. It was
maddening.

  “Sorry, Erin. I’m just playing the pity party. Don’t worry about me.”

  Erin shook her head. “I still think you should give Jake Flynn a try. Even with the motorcycles, he’s a good guy. I told you that last night.”

  “And I told you no,” Anna said firmly, shutting down her friend when it looked like she wanted to say more. Erin didn’t know Jake, she only knew his grandmother. And while Jake’s gran had never had anything but good things to say about her rebellious grandson, what did she know? The man could be an axe-wielding murderer, for heaven’s sake. He didn’t seem like an axe-wielding murderer, but wouldn’t someone like that take pains to appear normal? Either way, it wasn’t relevant. Jake wasn’t her guy. Her guy was waiting for her at a club tonight.

  As if reading her thoughts, Erin patted her arm and beamed at her. “Well, you look great. And the cab is going to be here any minute, so chop-chop. Dani and Lacey are already there, scoping out the selection, and I have a really, really good feeling about tonight.”

  “Then by all means, let’s hit it,” Anna said with as much cheer as she could muster, forcing herself to sit still while Erin applied her makeup.

  The cab ride to the club was far too short, and the place was already hopping when they arrived. So were Anna’s nerves. She looked good—she knew she looked good. She had poured her curves into a slinky pink dress—not black, since she didn’t want to appear too strong. Not red, since she didn’t want to appear too forward. Pink was exactly the right color for a fun, flirty weeknight on the town. She’d paired the dress with sexy, open-toed sandals—and those were black, because black shoes looked sophisticated while the open toes looked fun and approachable.

  So, see? she told herself. She wasn’t so bad at this. She’d picked up enough from her work to know exactly how to dress and exactly how to speak in any situation to sell the business.

  She’d just never expected that the business would be her.