Jake spread his hands. “I’m an open book. I’ve lived here for six months. Before that, I was in Durango, Colorado, working as an extra pair of hands for a motorcycle shop I like out there. Before that I knocked around a couple different places—Texas, Wyoming, Arizona—ever since I moved away from home at eighteen, right around five years ago. Grew up in Vermont, if you didn’t know that. I’ve got a big Irish family back there, but I don’t have any kids, or any crazy exes. What about you?”
Anna blinked at him. “I’ve been here since college, a year or so. Grew up in Maryland, where my mom and her husband live, and my two-year-old half sister. They’re coming up next weekend, actually, so that will be fun.” She hesitated. “My dad, um, died when I was a teenager.”
Jake sobered, his eyes shadowing with concern. “I wondered about that. You kept just talking about your mom.”
“Yeah, well. It was a long time ago,” Anna said, the words well-worn and almost without inflection after all these years. “And um, I work for Morris-Winston International consulting, which means a lot of late hours. And I travel a fair amount—though I haven’t been to the Southwest.”
“Well, you’d love it, trust me on that. And see?” He grinned at her. “Just like that, and we’ve got all the basics covered. We’re good to go.”
Jake’s words had Anna shaking her head. “This isn’t about ‘us,’ Jake. That’s the problem. This is about an imaginary guy I’ve spent way too much time thinking about—and talking about, I’m afraid. There’s just way too much in the file for you to wing it.” She frowned, chewing her bottom lip. “Maybe I could send a copy with you on your trip?”
“Only if you want it covered in grease and forgotten on some worktable,” he said, raising a brow at her. “Chill out, Anna. You’re making this too complicated.”
A sudden spurt of irritation surged through Anna, destroying the last of her sensual haze. What was with people telling her to chill out? And what did he know about complicated, anyway? The man fixed motorcycles for a living! He thought nothing of riding off into the sunset just so he could play around in some guy’s garage for a few days, while other people worked real jobs with real deadlines. “I hardly think—”
“Nope, you think too much, actually.” Jake dropped a quick kiss on her forehead again, cutting off her retort. “Now let’s get you home. Based on our little chat earlier today, your landlady’s a worrier.”
Chapter 7
Jake strode through the airport terminal, eating up the distance with his long, rolling gait, already regretting his decision not to take one of his bikes to Charleston. He’d arranged for a ride once they arrived, but he never did see the point of airplanes when he could have miles of open road stretching out ahead of him for hours.
His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his jacket, glancing at the display with a frown. He raised it to his ear. “Mom?”
“Jake! I’m so glad you picked up. Gran has been asking about the brownstone, and I honestly didn’t know what to tell her.”
“Asking about what?” he asked. “It’s almost done. I just have one more room to finish.” And how. That room was by far the worst of the bunch.
“Well, I think she’s getting nostalgic.” She paused. “Would you be able to come up this weekend? Maybe bring some of her things?”
That slowed him down. His mom had been after him to come up north ever since he’d gotten to Boston, but it had never felt right. And now was definitely not the time. “This weekend? As in today?” he asked. “That’s not going to work, Mom. I’m out of town.”
“Oh?” Her interest was clear, and Jake grimaced. If he’d been on his bike, he wouldn’t have had to take this call. “Are you traveling alone or with friends?”
“A girl I met in Boston, actually.” What the hell. If his mom thought there was even a remote chance of him settling down, it’d keep her off his back for a while. “We’re going down to a wedding of a friend of hers.”
The silence on the other end of the line went on a little too long. “A wedding …,” his mom finally said, dragging the word out. “You’re going to a wedding with someone you just met.”
“I didn’t just meet her,” Jake said. “I’ve known her for a while. She lives down the street in the Connelly brownstone.”
“The Connelly brownstone?” Her mother said the words too loudly for her to be speaking to him alone, and Jake winced as he heard his gran’s intrigued-sounding voice in the background. “Is it Erin that you’re taking? Gran wants to know.”
“No, it’s not Erin,” Jake said. “It’s just a girl I know. She’s nice. You’d like her.”
“Then we look forward to meeting her. You’ll be back next week? We could absolutely come down. Or you could come up?”
“Mom, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to bury the girl in family.” Especially not his family, where there was a hell of a lot of water under the bridge, most of it muddy.
“Are you serious about her?”
“Mom.” Leave it to his mother to take a first date and turn it into a lifetime commitment. The woman had four children of her own, and they’d all settled down except Jake. He was the lone wolf in the lot, and he knew the rest of his siblings thought it was better that way, even if his mom didn’t. He thought it was better, too. Not that much had changed in the last five years. Sure, he’d gotten to the point where he could control his temper, channel it into better pursuits. Healthier pursuits, he supposed. Or, if all else failed, he could just pour it into an open throttle and eat up a thousand miles of asphalt. But the solo road was safer for him, and his mom of all people should know that.
Except apparently, she didn’t. “If you’re serious, then you want to bury her in family, sweetheart,” she said. “Trust me. But don’t let me sway you, of course. Just call me when you get back, okay? Gran just wandered off, and I need to go find her.”
Jake disconnected and kept walking, smiling despite himself. His mom had it all wrong. Yeah, his brother and sisters had families of their own, and yeah, he was sure that was great. But families weren’t built for guys like him. He’d learned that the hard way.
He saw Anna long before she saw him. She was standing off to the side of the gate, nervously checking her watch, not once, but three times in the few seconds that he watched her. She was dressed in clothes he suspected she wore as some kind of armor, black trousers and a pink short-sleeved sweater, both of them looking soft and sensuous on her body. Her hair was in a loose ponytail over her shoulder, and he imagined it cascading over her body with nothing between it and her skin, the way it had been the other night, her shoulders bare, her breasts high and perfect in his hands.
Just like that, his body perked up and took notice. Yeah, it was going to be a long flight to Charleston.
He could almost hear the ongoing rattle of words in Anna’s head, as she wondered if he was coming, if he’d be late, if he’d been waylaid on the road, if he’d been injured, if he was dead, and back to if he was coming.
But Jake wouldn’t have missed this weekend for anything, and Anna’s flood of chatter last weekend had just made him smile. He knew that part of it was nerves, but part of it was just because she was Anna, the kind of girl so desperate to be understood that she crammed thirty-seven words into a sentence where ten would do. He’d never spoken to her before this past week, and he wondered if she would feel more relaxed with him now—or if he’d make her jumpy as a cat all weekend. He didn’t really mind that part. He liked the effect he had on her. She couldn’t fake her reactions, and he’d spent the last six nights straight wondering about what she’d be like in his arms and on a bed. Or up against a wall. Or bent over his bike, or—
“You made it!”
Despite himself, the surprise and relief in Anna’s voice set off a quick sizzle of irritation inside Jake, and he let a little of it into his tone. “You doubted me?” he asked as she walked up to him. “You texted me the itinerary three different times when I was gone, and gave
my phone number to the airline so they could send me a wake-up call. How could I have missed all of that?” The frown that marred her lips let him know his point had gotten across, and he told himself to dial it back.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It was a little ridiculous.” Her genuine apology surprised him, even as Anna drew in a breath and managed a smile. “You make me a little nervous. I’ll work on that.”
He nodded and gave her an encouraging wink, which didn’t seem to help her nerves any, but the loudspeaker announcement that they were about to board interrupted any chance of meaningful conversation. Anna handed over a portfolio of paperwork with Jake’s ticket on top, and he glanced down at it, hefting its weight in his hands. “What’s this?”
“Your dossier, as promised,” Anna said, having the grace to look embarrassed. “We never really talked about it, and I realize there’s just so much information there that I don’t know about you, or that you don’t know about ‘Dave.’ ” She bit her lip as another announcement galvanized her into action. “That’s us.”
He blinked, looking around to the other travelers. “That’s first class,” he said, even as he fell in step behind her. A quick scan of his ticket confirmed the obvious as Anna handed her papers over to the gate agent.
“Yeah, well,” she said with a shrug, and strode ahead, her mind clearly churning over what his reaction would be to the fact that she’d sprung for upgraded seats on a two-hour flight. She was already talking before he fully pulled into earshot. “… and I knew this was a complete pain for you anyway, and I figured you probably didn’t like being cramped up in a plane in the first place, not if your usual mode of transportation was a motorcycle, so—”
Jake smiled and took Anna’s bag out of her hand, muscling it into the overhead compartment. She stood there a moment, watching him mutely, before seeming to recall herself and duck into the inside seat. “You pack books in there or something?” he asked as he slid in beside her, feeling her flinch away from his touch, knowing instinctively that she was hyperaware of his every movement, every word, every touch. The realization should have annoyed him just as her doubt had—he generally liked his women more relaxed, less freaked out. But he was settling in, too, he supposed. He could cut her some slack. And Anna was living up to every bit of his fantasy about her, including her shy but unmistakably turned-on reactions. He shifted in his seat as she fussed with her own belt and then—of course—she started talking.
“Well, it’s sort of a thing with me. I travel a lot for my job—that’s how I got these tickets. It really was no big deal, I have a gazillion miles already, and when you travel that much, you quickly learn that checking your bags is a real pain. So I learned how to pack as tightly as possible while still staying within the carry-on guidelines. I even got my bridesmaid’s gown in there.” She finally dared a glance at him then. “Thanks for putting my bag up. I’m not used to having someone do that.”
“Well, get used to it for this weekend,” Jake said, leaning back in his seat. A tiny woman asked them if they wanted a drink, and Jake watched Anna switch from shy and nervous with him to calm and easygoing with the flight attendant. He eyed her as she accepted her drink and gripped it with both hands, as if the plane was already in the air and experiencing heavy turbulence. He thought about pushing the conversation now, then shook his head. Let her have a few minutes to get her bearings. He’d have all weekend to unwind her—and then wind her up again to exquisite perfection, over and over again.
With a smile that he felt all the way through his body, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
They were airborne before Anna risked her first glance at Jake. He still had his eyes closed, and the flight between Boston and Charleston was only a couple of hours. That wasn’t a lot of time for them to go over his cover story—a cover story she was regretting more and more with each passing minute.
Despite her annoyance when he’d called her out on this exact thing last Saturday, Jake had been right. She was making this too complicated. She always made everything too complicated. The fifteen-page report detailing everything she’d ever shared about the fictional Dave’s life had certainly seemed like a good idea while it was taking up her every waking moment since Jake had agreed to be her stand-in date. With the incessant turmoil going on at work—Todd back in town, a new client acquisition, the Japan deal heating up—creating an identity kit for her hot, sexy, fantasy boyfriend had been a good distraction. But now, sitting next to Jake Flynn, his hand loosely curved around his drink as he sat easily in his seat, his thigh pressed up against hers in a move that she suspected was unconscious but was setting her insides on fire … now she wasn’t so sure about the whole fake-boyfriend thing. What if he forgot his part? What if her friends figured out that he was a stand-in, and teased him mercilessly all weekend? What if—
“You know, this is supposed to be a vacation for you, too,” Jake said, his eyes still closed. “What has you so worried?”
“You do,” Anna said, immediately regretting the words as Jake came to attention beside her, swinging around to pin her with his dark gaze. He curled his lips into a soft smile, but there was no mistaking the concern in his words.
“You think I’m going to let you down?” he asked quietly.
“What? No! If anything, I’m going to let you down.” Anna tightened her fists on her trousers, then forced herself to extend her fingers out again. Just talk to the guy. Imagine he’s your client. Your work team. Somebody other than the man you’ve been dreaming about having sex with for the last six months. That thought completely derailed her brain, and it was only Jack’s soft laugh that brought her back to her senses.
“Your head is going to explode if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you, Anna. I can take it, really.”
“This bothers me.” She tapped the folder he still had on top of his tray table, a folder he had not opened yet. “You were right, Jake. It’s too much. It’s all too much. I have everything in there about the fictional Dave—what he likes, what he doesn’t like, his childhood, his relationship with his family, his work. The whole damn thing.”
“Our sex life?” Jake asked, and he drained his soda in a long gulp, then handed the flight attendant his glass. He flipped open the folder and began rifling through the papers. “Because that I’d like to see—”
“That’s not covered in there. I thought we already went over that.”
He shot her a glance, his brows coming together in clear confusion. “I really think I would have remembered that conversation.”
“I told you, we have an … active relationship,” Anna said. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I’ve made up this whole story about Dave and it’s ridiculous. Even the name is ridiculous. I don’t know how you’re going to remember everything I’ve dreamed up about you, up to and including your favorite type of soup. It’s tomato, by the way, but you’re very particular about it.” Jake frowned down at the folder, then back at her. “Your friends give a shit what kind of soup I like?”
“No! Yes. I don’t know.” Anna sank back in her seat helplessly. “Again, you’re probably right, I’m probably way overthinking this. I do that. Overthink. It’s one of my greatest assets, but it also makes everything so … complicated.”
“What, like creating an imaginary boyfriend and then being asked to produce the man?” Jake grinned and reached out to Anna, touching a finger beneath her chin when she would have turned away. “Hey,” he said, and his words were a bare whisper. “Kiss me.”
Anna felt her eyes flare, her cheeks go hot. “What?” she asked. But she was acutely aware of the fact that there were other people around them, probably wanting nothing more than for them both to shut up. She leaned forward quickly and brushed her lips over Jake’s, the contact sending a thrill right to the center of her. God, he had the most amazing mouth. But the kiss was over just as quickly as it began, and she scooted back away from him, even though his grin was more pronounced now. “Okay, what did that prove?�
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“That proved that the one thing we really need to get your friends off your back is accomplished.” Jake sat back in his chair, his smile turning smug. “The rest of this goes out the window.”
She blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Anna, think about it. I’m not Dave. I don’t want to be Dave. Based on what I’m seeing in here, Dave is starting to sound like kind of a douche.” He raised his hand to forestall her outburst. “How could he not be? You’re a woman and you created him to match up to some completely effed-up idea of what a guy is, does, and thinks. And all of that’s okay, except it’s not me—and I’d be willing to bet it’s not even Dave, if you ever asked his opinion.”
“He is not a ‘douche,’ which is a terrible word, anyway.” Anna hissed the words, trying to convey her outrage without the entire freaking cabin knowing about it. How dare he! How—
“Uh-huh. Do you have brothers, Anna?” Jake asked, his words cutting her thoughts short.
“No. What does that have to—”
“What about your past boyfriends? A lot of those?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’ve had my share.”
“How many before Todd hit the scene?”
“What does it matter?” Anna’s voice was too loud, and she balled her fingers into fists again, forcing herself to stay calm. “What does it matter if I’d dated half the New England Patriots? This isn’t about my dating history.”
“Sure it is.” Jake waved the folder, and their helpful attendant came right up. “Could you throw this away for me?”
“Hey!”
“Thanks,” Jake said, turning back just in time to stop Anna’s lunge for her folder. Instead, he caught her hand tight in his own, and pressed it against his chest. “That’s right, Anna,” he said as he searched her face, obviously tracking the warring emotions that were chasing across it and liking whatever it was he saw. “There is no Dave now. There’s only Jake. Jake who you wanted to keep away from all of your nosy friends until you were sure I was ready for them.”
Fake It Page 6
