by Erika Wilde
He chuckled, certain she was exaggerating. “Peyton, I remember enough about you to recall that you’re a little quirky. Consider me warned. I’ll do my very best not to be shocked or traumatized by your confession and your proposition.”
That made her smile. And relax just a bit. Mission accomplished.
“Okay . . . so, it all starts with my loving, attentive, well-meaning parents, and you need to understand that dynamic before I get to the part that involves you,” she said, her tone droll. “I’m an only child, and I was totally a surprise baby after my mom and dad gave up on trying to conceive after three miscarriages, even after working with a fertility doctor for a few years. The pregnancy was difficult, and I was born a preemie, which I’m sure added to their overprotective tendencies and the way they constantly worried about everything I did . . . but really, they were great parents and I couldn’t have asked for a better childhood. I just always felt . . . coddled and smothered, and as I got older, their constant hovering started feeling more intrusive when I wanted to just live my own life without them knowing everything I did.”
Leo nodded as she took another drink of her margarita, totally understanding her feelings. What teenager wanted to be constantly monitored by their parents? He knew all this backstory was leading up to the one that would reveal why he was here, but he honestly found himself enjoying learning about her.
“I agreed to stay in San Diego and live at home while going to college because that’s what my parents wanted, but I always knew that as soon as I graduated, I was spreading my wings and flying the coop,” she said lightheartedly. “I was desperate to be independent, and I picked New York, because I was interested in the fashion industry, and it came with the added bonus that it was far enough away that I could do what I wanted without having my parents meddling in my life on a daily basis, and I have to say it’s been incredibly liberating.”
Hearing the excitement in her voice and seeing the light in her eyes, he grinned, but he knew there was more coming. “Except?” he prompted.
She sobered once again. “Except they constantly worried about me being alone in a huge city and not knowing anyone, to the point that I just wanted to reassure them I was okay and that I had someone watching over me. So, I told them I had an attentive, protective boyfriend named Leo Stone, who lived near me in the city, who made sure I got home safe in the evenings after work . . .” Her complexion flushed furiously at that admission, even as she started talking faster to get it all out in a hurry. “And because I thought it would be more convincing if my parents actually saw proof of this boyfriend, one night after a few too many margaritas, my roommate and I used a couple of your online photos and super-imposed them onto pictures with me to make it look like you were my new guy. I sent them to my parents and now I’m kind of stuck in the lie.”
No two ways around it, he stared at her in shock, momentarily speechless.
Mortification etched her pretty features, and she groaned and dropped her face into her hands. “And now would be a really great time for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.” She spread her fingers apart and peered cautiously through them at him. “You probably think I’m some kind of deranged stalker.”
Surprisingly, he found the fabricated tale kind of amusing. “No, I don’t think that . . . I’m just trying to wrap my head around why you’d use me as your boyfriend, of all people.” They hadn’t seen or talked to one another in four years.
It wasn’t posed as a question, rather a statement, but he really wanted to know the answer. Unfortunately, the waitress chose that moment to deliver their meals, setting down a plate with a classic burger in front of him and a chopped chicken salad for Peyton.
“I swear, I never thought it would come to this,” she muttered to herself as she absently pushed her lettuce around on her plate with her fork.
“You never thought it would come to what, Peyton?” he asked while removing the onion from his burger before putting the bun back on top.
She sighed, the sound resigned as she lifted her gaze to his. “Me asking if you’d play the part of my boyfriend for the next week while I’m in San Diego.”
He stared at her, speechless once again.
She arched a brow his way. “Now do you think I’m crazy?”
An abrupt gust of laughter escaped him because, yeah, she’d totally integrated him into her life without him even knowing, and her efforts were mind-boggling. “Maybe. Just a little.” But damn, she was still so cute and adorable.
Her small chin lifted a fraction, contradicting the vulnerable glimmer in her eyes. “Knowing what I’ve done, if you’d like to me leave, I’d totally understand.”
“Pixie, I don’t want you to go,” he said, realizing it was the truth. He was enjoying her and this conversation way too much. “But you have to give me time to digest the fact that we’ve been dating . . . for how long now?”
A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Umm, nine months. My parents have seen photos of you, but they’ve never spoken to you on the phone or seen you on Skype with me when I’m chatting with them. I’ve built you up as such a great boyfriend, which is why they were hoping to meet you during this trip back to San Diego.”
He swallowed a bite of burger and raised his brows. “And you told them I’d come home with you?” Now that was presumptuous.
“Not exactly,” she explained as she mostly played with her salad instead of eating it. “They strongly encouraged the visit, and I told them that you weren’t sure you could get the time off since you run your own business, but you’d try. As of right now, they think you’re still in New York and that there’s a chance you still might make it out in time for the wedding to meet family, if you can get things covered at work.”
He wasn’t committing to anything, but he couldn’t deny he was curious about his fictitious role in her life. “Okay . . . and what do I do for work?”
“Same thing as you do here,” she said, biting into a piece of grilled chicken. “You own a car service business in the city. I, umm, tried to stick to the truth where I could to keep things simple so I didn’t get things mixed up.”
Wow, she’d really thought this through, except there was a way out of the deception. “Why didn’t you just make things easy on yourself and tell your parents that we broke up a week or so ago?”
She set her fork down on her plate and lifted those soft blue eyes up to his. “I seriously thought about it . . . but there are two reasons I didn’t. One is that my father recently underwent a quadruple bypass, and during that time, my mother kept on telling me how relieved she was that I had someone watching over me in New York so she didn’t have to worry while taking care of my father, and I didn’t want to upset either of them or add to that stress.”
He could easily understand that reasoning. “And the second?” he prompted.
She tucked a wavy strand of hair behind her ear before divulging the answer. “The company I was working for went bankrupt and I was let go. I’m currently jobless with no steady income, and I haven’t told my parents because they’d worry about me and insist I come back home, and that’s not an option for me. I’ve been sending my resume out, and I’m hopeful something will shake loose soon.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said, knowing what a difficult situation that had to be for her.
“Thanks.” She gave him a faint smile as she rubbed her fingers along her temple. “I’ll get through it, but I’d rather make it happen on my own, without my parents constantly asking how I’m doing, how many applications I’ve sent out, and if I have enough money to buy groceries and pay my rent, which I do, for the time being, so there is no sense worrying them when I’m okay for a while. And honestly, the thought of moving back home with my tail tucked between my legs and giving up the independent life I’ve carved out for myself would make me miserable.”
She paused for a moment, and he finished off his burger and pushed his plate aside. Crazily enough, he sympathized with her dilemma
. “So, with everything going on with your father, you figured that not telling your parents about losing your job, and keeping up the pretense of having me as a boyfriend, would ensure that this visit would be calm and relaxing.”
“Yes, well, as calm and relaxing as it can be around my parents,” she said, her tone wry.
Before he could say anything more, their waitress came by to clear their plates and ask if they’d like dessert. They both declined, and once they were alone again, he leaned forward and braced his arms on the table.
“I’d really like to see the photos with the two of us that you mocked up to convince your parents that we’re a couple,” he said, curious to see for himself the results of that drunken night with her friend, when she’d originally come up with the idea of using him as her boyfriend.
She ducked her head, her expression tinged with embarrassment. “I suppose I owe you that much.”
He smirked at her. “As your protective, attentive boyfriend who kept your parents happy thinking that you have someone taking care of you, I’m beginning to think you owe me a lot more than a look at our photo album.”
Her eyes widened at the underlying innuendo in his words. What was originally meant to be a playful comment suddenly sparked an undeniable wave of slow, burning heat between them. The awareness that flashed in her gaze, the latent desire suddenly shimmering there, was reminiscent of that day on the university campus when she’d realized just how much straddling him had affected his body. Except now, there was no girlfriend keeping him from giving in to the attraction that was still alive and present and tempting him to see where it all might lead.
She was the first to break that telling connection, but the flush on her skin remained as she retrieved her cell phone from her purse to show him the pictures he’d asked to see. With her brows pinched together in concentration, the tips of her fingers moved over the display while he quietly studied her from across the table and pondered this seductive pull she seemed to have over him.
She was nothing like Amanda, who’d been southern-born-and-bred elegance and sophistication, and Peyton definitely wasn’t overtly sexual like a lot of the women who tried to get his attention with their excessively made-up faces, big hair, and skintight clothes that left little to the imagination. That was more Eric’s type than it had ever been his.
Truthfully, it was that girl-next-door presence and candid charm that fascinated him. She was sweet and adorable in public . . . but in private, he envisioned a naughtier version of Peyton who was sensual and uninhibited and didn’t mind getting down and dirty. And it also wasn’t difficult to picture himself as the guy who coaxed that side out of her.
Yeah, he imagined all the privileges a boyfriend would have when it came to seducing her. Indulging in slow, deep kisses against those full, lush lips. Caressing those small, pert breasts and pinching her nipples until she gasped his name or begged for more. Stroking his hand along that soft, wet spot between her legs and watching as she tipped her head back and moaned as she came all over his fingers.
Leo groaned deep in his throat as his dick pulsed much too enthusiastically, and he shifted on the bench seat in an attempt to make the pressure growing against the fly of his jeans ease up.
At the gruff sound, she lifted her gaze to his face in concern. “Are you okay?”
No, he wasn’t okay. He wanted Peyton, more than he had any other woman in a long time, and the knowledge was staggering considering he hadn’t felt this way since, well, Amanda.
He cleared his throat so he could talk normally. “Yeah, I’m fine. Did you find the pictures?”
She nodded and handed over her phone, which he took from her. The page was open to a Facebook page with only a few friends on it, and what looked to be her parents’ accounts, which told him this wasn’t a public profile but a private one for the sole purpose of perpetuating her relationship with him. Damn, she really had thought this whole fake relationship through.
He tapped on the “photos” link, and the first image popped up of him and Peyton standing next to one another in Times Square at night, which couldn’t be possible since he’d never been to New York. But it was definitely his face, and he even recognized his black jeans and the same leather jacket he was wearing tonight as his and remembered that particular picture being taken on an evening when he’d gone out with Eric for a few drinks. He’d posted it on his Instagram, where Peyton had clearly lifted it and altered the photo to suit her needs.
He scrolled through a dozen or more, marveling at how legit and official all the snapshots looked. As well as how much trouble she’d gone through to fabricate this whole façade with him. “Damn, these look like the real deal.”
“They look so good because my roommate, Gabby, is a graphic designer,” she told him.
He gave Peyton her phone back. “You’ve certainly convinced me that we’re a couple,” he teased.
She fiddled with her phone even as she met his gaze, appearing nervous once again. “I know all this is extreme, and I realize it’s a lot to ask of you to play along as my boyfriend for a few days to appease my parents, so I totally get it if you say no.”
“I’m not saying no . . . but I’m not saying yes, either,” he found himself saying, because truthfully, he wouldn’t mind spending some time with her while she was in San Diego for a week or so and reconnecting with her. But he did have responsibilities and obligations to think of. “I’d like to help you out, but I have work and running a business to consider.”
“Well, you do live here in San Diego where your company is located, which would help,” she pointed out, her expression hopeful. “We could give my parents an excuse that you’re meeting with clients while you’re in San Diego if you need to be gone during the day, then meet up at night for a few days, and for the wedding next Saturday. I leave to go back to New York next Sunday evening, and then that will be it as far as needing you.”
It really was a doable plan. A temporary fun time with Peyton, no strings attached. It couldn’t be anything more considering she lived in New York now. “I can’t commit to anything until I talk to my partner. Give me a few days and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” She took a small notepad from her purse and jotted down her phone number. “Here’s how you can reach me.”
He folded the note and pushed it into the front pocket of his jeans to input into his phone later. “I suppose I should get you home.”
“I can call Lyft from here,” she assured him. “I told my parents my flight was delayed, so they have no idea I’ve already arrived, and I’ve taken up enough of your time this evening.”
“Pixie, I’m not handing you off to some random stranger,” he said, not liking the idea of her getting into a car with a guy she didn’t know when he was perfectly capable of making sure she got home safely, especially when she didn’t have the extra money to spend right now. “I’ll drop you off. The windows in the Escalade are tinted enough that if your parents come to the door to greet you, they won’t be able to really see what I look like behind the wheel, so I can easily be your Lyft driver without giving anything away.”
She hesitated for a moment, then agreed. “Okay. I appreciate it.”
Their waitress came by with the check, setting it at the edge of the table, and just as Peyton reached for the bill, Leo grabbed it first. There was no way he’d ever let a woman pay for dinner.
Her brows furrowed with a cute frown. “Hey, I said I’d get this.”
After pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he withdrew the company credit card and grinned at her. “If I’m a boyfriend, then this would be a date, right?” he reasoned.
She rolled her eyes. “You and I both know this isn’t a date.”
“But I am your boyfriend,” he teased.
The corner of her mouth twitched with a smile. “You’re my pretend boyfriend.”
He shrugged. “Semantics,” he said, handing the waitress the check with his credit card as she came by again. “Besides, it�
��s a business expense for me.”
Her expression softened with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He leaned back in the seat, wanting to know one more thing before they parted ways tonight. “Why me, Peyton?” he asked, steadily holding her gaze.
Her eyes widened a fraction, like a deer caught in headlights. “What do you mean?”
Oh, she knew exactly what he was asking but was clearly stalling with her reply. “Out of any random guy on Facebook you could have picked to be your pretend boyfriend, why did you choose me?” There. That was direct enough.
She ran her tongue along her bottom lip and fidgeted in her seat. “I blame it on the margaritas that night.”
He slowly shook his head at the fib. “The truth, Pixie, because it seems more of a conscious decision to me.”
She swallowed hard, and for a moment, he thought she was going to make up another convenient excuse, until her shoulders straightened with fortitude and bold courage lit her eyes as she confirmed what he’d always suspected back in college.
“Because . . . I’ve always had a little bit of a crush on you.”
Chapter Three
Oh my God, the irresistible smile that graced Leo’s lips sent Peyton’s heart racing and set free a dozen butterflies in her stomach. What was she thinking, just blurting out her secret infatuation for him? Then again, she’d already confessed her guiltiest offense tonight, so she might as well cop to her crush on him, too. Even if she did have to resist the urge to squirm under that intensely sexy and satisfied stare of his.
“Just for the record, the feeling was mutual, even if I never acted on it,” he admitted, his low, husky voice doing sinful things to her body, and he wasn’t even touching her. “I would never cheat on Amanda, or any woman for that matter, but chemistry was undoubtedly my favorite class because of you.”
She blinked at him in shock, not sure what to say to that revelation, and was thankfully saved from having to reply as their server came back after running his credit card. Leo signed the receipt, put his American Express back into his wallet, then glanced back up at her.
