Mr. Man Candy: A Fake Boyfriend Romance

by Alessandra Hart

  Gosh, which reprehensible prick would I inevitably fall for next? Tripp Huntington-Davis?

  I shuddered at the thought and shook my head, trying to pull myself together. I was not falling for Nate. He was just incredibly hot, that was all, and it was nothing but a primal urge that drew me to him. I could separate physical lust from emotions.

  Or at least that’s what I told myself to alleviate the guilt.

  “Are you okay, babe?” Nate asked, squeezing my shoulder. “You’ve been staring out the window for ages.”

  There was a lightness in my chest as his fingers tightened their grip. I plastered on another fake smile and tried to ignore the tingles shooting down my spine. Curse this man and the effect he had on my body. “Yes, I’m fine. Just enjoying the view,” I said.

  That part wasn’t a lie. The island was gorgeous—everything I’d imagined it would be and more. Perfect weather, smiling people, and beautiful scenery in every direction.

  Libby slurped up the remainder of her banana smoothie as she looked at another fake date photo that Nate had just handed to her. Then she grinned over at me. “I knew you’d find someone eventually. I always said that, didn’t I?”

  I nodded and smiled at her, and this time the smile was genuine. Libby was trying so hard to accept Nate’s presence despite his fractured relationship with her fiancé, all because she believed he was my boyfriend. That meant the world to me. She could’ve sent Nate packing on the first day, just to make sure nothing went wrong at the wedding. But instead she welcomed him with open arms and tried her best to ignore the tension between him and Bobby. Just to keep me happy.

  I didn’t deserve her as a sister. Not after the ridiculous crap I’d pulled. But hopefully, she’d never find out about any of it.

  “Well, uh, speaking of work.” Bobby coughed nervously and shifted in his seat as he cut in to the conversation. “I know we said we wouldn’t speak about this anymore, but I just wanted to let you know—a friend recommended a decent private investigator to me yesterday when I was researching people to keep on retainer at my startup. Apparently he specializes in financial crimes, so I’ve asked him to take a look at your case. Maybe he’ll be able to find something the feds couldn’t.”

  Libby’s eyes widened as he spoke. So did mine. This particular subject was fraught with danger and could easily cause another fight between the two men.

  We waited for Nate’s response with bated breath, expecting the worst, but all he did was smile genially. “Thanks, Robert. That’s very kind of you.”

  Bobby didn’t smile back, but his shoulders visibly relaxed. “You’re welcome.”

  “Of course,” Nate continued breezily. “He won’t find anything. That money’s been hidden well. Good job, bro.”

  Bobby glowered at him and threw his napkin to the table. “I give up,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m going to get more coffee. Anyone want anything?”

  We all looked down at our plates as an awkward tension settled over the table. Honestly, Nate was being a childish douche. Bobby actually seemed to want to help and patch things up between them, and Nate was just throwing it back in his face. I knew he sincerely thought Bobby was responsible for the missing money, but if he just took a step back and reevaluated things for five minutes, he might realize there was a chance he could be wrong.

  I elbowed him under the table and shot him a warning look. “Sorry,” he muttered. “He just pushes my buttons so fucking hard.”

  “Let’s talk about something else,” Libby said brightly, trying to keep the peace. “Everyone will be arriving in the next few days for the party!”

  I smiled, grateful for the change in subject. “I can’t wait.”

  Libby’s bridal party, Bobby’s groomsmen, and other assorted wedding guests would be on Saint Clare by Thursday for what was shaping up to be an amazing ‘last hurrah’ party the following evening.

  My sister wanted to buck tradition, so she and Bobby were having a joint bachelorette/bachelor party instead of having two separate events. The party had been meticulously planned out already—pre-drinks for family and wedding party members in the happy couple’s penthouse suite, followed by a ferry ride and dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant on nearby Saint Arnaud Island with everyone else. After that, we’d all hop on another ferry to Saint Australind to party and gamble at the casino and nightclubs there.

  Libby and Bobby had planned to have the event over a week before the wedding. That way everyone would have plenty of time to recover from their inevitable hangovers with the aid of the sun and frequent dips in the island’s warm azure waters.

  It was an amazing idea to combine the events into one big island-hopping party. It sounded like great fun, and I thought it also showed how dedicated my sister and her fiancé were to each other. I’d always found it a bit weird and archaic when people had separate gendered events and ogled at strippers in some seedy bar all night.

  “Georgie, you brought the dress, right?” Libby asked, peering across the table at me through her long lashes.

  “What dress?” I asked, absentmindedly stirring my latte again. “For the ceremony?”

  She shook her head. “Not that. I mean the red one we picked out from that Zafela website. For the party. You said it arrived a few weeks ago, right?”

  I stared at her in horror. Shit. That dress!

  Libby and I had been planning this for ages. We’d thought it would be really cute if every woman at the party wore matching red dresses (with the exception of Mom and my Aunt Glenda, who considered themselves ‘too old’ to wear red, whatever that meant). The photos would look amazing, and if any of the girls got a little too drunk and wandered off from the main group, they’d easily be found.

  But I’d left mine at home. When the dress arrived from the website I’d ordered it from, I made sure it fit, then left it hanging in my closet with a bright yellow Post-It note stuck above, telling me not to forget to pack it.

  So of course, I forgot to pack it.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t bring it,” I said, wringing my hands. “Dammit, I knew I forgot something!”

  Mom sighed theatrically, and Libby’s face fell slightly. “Oh, that’s okay,” she said, waving her hand. “I’m not some crazy Bridezilla. We don’t have to match, and it’s just a party anyway.”

  I shook my head. “No, Lib, it’s your party, and we planned the matching dress thing ages ago. I want it to be perfect for you. Don’t worry, I’ll get the dress.”

  She wrinkled her forehead. “How?”

  “I asked my neighbor to water my plants while I’m away, so she’s got a spare key. I’ll ask her to find the dress and get it shipped over here via express mail.”

  Libby chewed on her bottom lip. “But even with express shipping, it could still take three or four days to get all the way here. Or more. We’re just so far away.”

  I braided my hands on the table and smiled. “I’ll make it work. I promise.”

  One way or another, I would. I couldn’t let my sister down again. I’d screwed things up enough by bringing her fiancé’s estranged brother to her wedding, and lord knows that’d already led to more drama than a singular catnip toy in a van full of kittens.

  “Thanks! I really can’t wait for Friday,” Libby gushed, clapping her hands together. “I’ll make sure to email everyone and remind them about the dresses so they don’t forget either.”

  “Good idea. You can title the email ‘Don’t be an idiot like Georgie’. I won’t be offended,” I said, poking out my tongue. Even my mother laughed a bit at that.

  Libby started telling us about a signature cocktail she’d had created for the wedding reception, and Bobby returned to the table a moment later. It was hard to miss his icy stare as he trained his eyes on Nate, and I couldn’t exactly blame him. I just hoped he and his brother wouldn’t be at each other’s throats for the next twelve days.

  I sighed and looked outside again as I contemplated our situation along with the gaping hole in my
pride. The other day I’d asked myself what could possibly go wrong on this trip. Silly me. Thanks to Murphy’s Law, absolutely everything had gone abysmally wrong, and it was only Tuesday of the first week.

  I didn’t even want to know what would go wrong next.

  14

  Georgie

  “Shit….”

  I sighed and replaced my hotel phone on its hook. That was the sixth company I’d spoken to who wouldn’t be able to get my red dress shipped to the Bunbury Islands from San Diego in under a week, even with their priciest express service, and I needed the dress in three days. I couldn’t blame the companies, though. It was my own damn fault for forgetting to pack the dress.

  I glanced over at the clock on the wall. I’d been trying to sort out this dress issue for four hours to no avail. Sighing again, I flopped down on my bed and opened my laptop before clicking onto the retailer’s website. I figured they might have a warehouse nearby which could ship me another dress by Friday. No such luck, though—they didn’t have any left in my size. Great.

  Twisting my lips, I sat up as an obvious solution suddenly crossed my mind. Duh. I should be outside, cruising around the island and checking out any boutiques it had to offer. Surely at least one of them would have a red dress. Even if it wasn’t the exact same dress that all the other girls had, like Libby initially wanted, it would be better than nothing.

  Just as I stood up and grabbed my purse, there was a knock at my door. Frowning, I padded over to it. As far as I knew, everyone was off doing their own thing this afternoon, so I wasn’t expecting anyone.

  I opened the door a crack to see Nate standing there with a big grin on his face. “Surprise!” he said. It was only then that I noticed he was holding a garment box marked ‘Zafela’.

  I gasped. “Is that…?”

  He nodded before I could finish my question. “Can I come in?”

  I opened the door wider, and he brushed past me. Hands on hips, I watched him set the box down on my bed. “I don’t understand. How did you get it here so fast?”

  “I heard Libby say the name of the website you ordered the dress from. I looked it up, and there was only one red dress on the whole site, so I figured that was the right one. They have a small store up in Bermuda, so I called them and got them to package one in your size. Then I had it dropped off here via helicopter. It arrived ten minutes ago.”

  My mouth fell open. “Helicopter? But… how can you afford that? You’re broke!”

  He smiled. “I still have connections all over the place. I didn’t have to pay.” He tore the sticky tape off the box and pulled the dress out. “So is this the right one?”

  I stepped over and fingered the slinky red fabric. “Yes,” I murmured in disbelief. “This is it.”

  “Right size? I had to make an educated guess.”

  I checked the tag. “You guessed perfectly,” I replied. I looked up at him. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

  Nate cocked his head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I? I knew it was important to you and your sister that you all have these matching outfits for the bachelorette party. And I kinda owe you for making brunch a bit awkward, don’t I?”

  I stared down at the dress again, chewing my bottom lip. Nate had almost always been thoughtful and kind to my face, but behind my back he was a totally different person—the kind of person who lied and slept with married women. I couldn’t understand how two polar opposite personalities could exist in the same body.

  “Thanks,” I finally said, averting my eyes again. “This was really sweet of you.”

  I hated to say it, but it was the truth.

  Nate grinned and leaned back on the bed. “Anything for my girlfriend.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that, but I rolled my eyes at the same time. “We don’t have to pretend we’re together when it’s just the two of us.”

  He sat up straight. “Fine. But at least let me see you in the dress so I can admire my handiwork.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I should probably try it on anyway, just to make sure this size still fits. I’ve eaten so much since we arrived that it wouldn’t surprise me if I’ve gained five pounds.”

  Nate winked. “You’d look great either way.”

  Stop being so nice to me, you two-faced prick, I wanted to scream. Instead, I smiled and stiffly thanked him again.

  I took the dress into the bathroom, leaving the door open just a crack so I could hear Nate in case he said anything. As I stripped off and stepped into the unzipped dress, my mind went crazy again, trying to figure out what the hell his deal was. How could someone seem so great but then actively participate in the destruction of someone else’s relationship at the same time?

  I guess people’s personalities weren’t black and white. It was all shades of grey. Someone could be nice in some ways and horrible in others. Still, it didn’t excuse Nate’s affair with Ginny Morell, as far as I was concerned.

  I fumbled around my back, trying to reach the zipper for the dress. Unfortunately, I was still quite stiff from the long plane ride the other day, and I couldn’t quite get it. Reluctantly, I stepped out of the bathroom and called out to Nate.

  “Hey, could you help with this? I can’t get it up.”

  I expected him to make some dumb joke about ‘getting it up’ but instead he simply nodded and headed over to me. I turned around, holding my hair out of the way, and Nate’s cool fingertips coasted over my back, searching for the zipper. He pulled it upwards, slowly, and when it was done, he smoothed the dress down over my hips. “Some of it’s a bit bunched up,” he said by way of explanation.

  I didn’t reply. I was too busy having a heart attack. Nate’s hands were all over me, and my senses were going haywire. I took a deep breath, trying to block everything out, but sensual flames licked at my inner thighs, rudely yanking me back into the moment. Nate was bad for me, but he was too tempting to resist.

  No matter how hard I tried, my universe was narrowed to this man and the things he did to my body without even trying.

  His fingers ran over the silky fabric yet again, smoothing one last part of the dress, and a tidal wave of desire slammed through my senses, cresting low in my belly. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last like this. My hands hung limply by my side as I tried to ignore Nate’s fingertips on my skin, but my willpower showed no sign of returning. God, I wanted him to touch me like this forever.

  Suddenly I was angry. No, furious. Furious at Nate for being such an irresistible bastard, and furious at myself for my incomprehensible reaction to his touch.

  I turned around, jerking away from his fingertips. “Thanks,” I said stiffly.

  “It looks good,” Nate said, eyes traveling a slow path from my cleavage down to my legs. “Really good.”

  “Nate, I…uh…” I tried desperately to think of something to say to change the subject away from how I looked. Anything to make him stop staring at me like that with those hungry grey eyes. “I want to talk to you about Bobby.”

  It worked. Nate sighed and took a step back. “I knew this was coming,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

  “You were pretty mean to him earlier. I think he might be trying to help you, Nate. Maybe this trip would be easier on us all if you let him.”

  His jaw tightened. “You don’t know him as well as you might think. Trust me.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, my brows knitted in a puzzled expression. I’d long suspected there were deeper issues between Nate and his brother, but he’d never said anything to confirm that until now.

  “Sometimes people aren’t what they seem. Sometimes they can really surprise you. They can hide things about themselves for a long time, and one day they turn around and reveal their true nature. You don’t see it coming, but you feel the effects forever. That’s what Robert is like. He hides things and blindsides you with it. He turns your highest moments into lows.”

  I pressed my lips together as he spoke about people lying and not turning o
ut to be who others thought they were. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

  I looked into his eyes, my expression steely. “You’re right. Sometimes people can really surprise you.”

  “Right.” Nate gave me a hard look. “You want to know the truth about the man your sister is marrying?”

  I folded my arms. “What truth?”

  Nate turned and headed over to the hotel minibar. “Mind if I have a drink?” he asked.

  “Um. Sure, I guess.”

  He pulled out a tiny travel-sized bottle of scotch and took a mouthful. Then he sat down on the bed and patted the duvet. “Wanna sit?”

  “I’m fine standing.”

  He shrugged. “Right. Well, I’ll start by saying I really hope my brother has changed for Libby. I hope he never treats her the way he’s treated me.” He paused, then looked up at me. “I never told you the whole story about my mother, did I?”

  “You told me she passed away, if that’s what you mean,” I said tentatively.

  “There’s more to the story than that. It was quite a while ago now, back when we still had nothing. She was a single mom, remember?”

  I nodded, and he went on.

  “It wasn’t always easy. We didn’t have much money. But Robert and I were smart enough to get college scholarships, at least. We went to local places to stay close to Mom so she wasn’t lonely. Then she got sick. That was right around the time I was trying to get my business started, right out of college. It was just me and my computer, really. Robert helped me with it, but ninety percent of the work was done by me.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t quite sure how Nate’s business related to his mother’s illness, so I kept listening, my forehead creased with concentration.