by Mari Carr
She wore an oversized T-shirt and boxers.
“Sunnie,” he tried again, sitting on the side of the mattress, shaking her a bit harder.
She blinked a few times, and he suspected she was trying to focus.
“Landon?”
“Yeah. You need to get up, babe.”
She glanced around her room, confused. He didn’t blame her. He’d dropped her off last night after their dinner date, only walking her as far as the entrance to the pub, where he’d given her a pretty legit good-night kiss.
She thought it had been for the benefit of the dozen or so tabloid photographers there. He knew it was for him.
“What time is it?” she mumbled, her voice husky from sleep. She was still trying to function.
“Six.”
She frowned, and for the first time it looked like she was fully conscious. “As in a.m.?”
He nodded.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I have a key. I’ve always had one.”
Her frown was more scowl as she said, “I know that, jackass. I didn’t ask how you got in here. I asked why you’re here. In my room. At the ass crack of dawn. I’m on vacation. That means sleeping in.”
“One of the producers from a local news show called me and said they had a last-minute cancellation this morning. He was hoping you and I could make an appearance. Nothing major. We just go on and answer a few questions. Whole segment isn’t going to last more than five minutes.”
She sat up, tugging at the leg of her boxers. He was sorry she’d done that. One side had ridden up, giving him ample view of her entire thigh and the tiniest bit of her ass cheek.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I thought you’d be excited. It’s that New Day Baltimore thing with the hot weather guy. You love that show.”
“Well, I do, but…what are we going to say?”
“That’s why I’m here early. I thought you could get a quick shower, then we’ll grab some breakfast, get our stories straight. Our segment airs live at nine-fifty, but the guy would like us there an hour early for makeup and to briefly go over things.”
Landon had expected her to jump right on this, but she still hesitated. “Why would you agree to this? You’re going to hate every minute of it.”
He shrugged. He was. He really was. But he knew she’d love it—even now he could see she was starting to get excited by the prospect—and it gave him the chance to further his cause. Finn and Sunnie had both mentioned that their fifteen minutes of fame would fade soon, and they were right.
Which meant Landon needed to make the most of the time he had if he hoped to achieve his dream.
He had one goal right now—and it was to win Sunnie’s heart.
That required finesse, skill and outright subterfuge. She’d never go down easy, so he would just have to trick her, seduce her into it. Last night had been a pretty hot start. He’d jerked off three times since as he recalled the way her face flushed when she came on his fingers.
Landon stood up, offering her a hand. “I figured you could do the majority of the talking.”
Sunnie obviously didn’t have a problem with that. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a problem as she leapt out of bed and darted to the closet. “Dammit! What the hell am I going to wear?”
He chuckled, following her. After a twenty-minute discussion of her wardrobe, Sunnie went to the bathroom for a shower while he meandered to the kitchen. He was just polishing off the bagel with cream cheese he’d helped himself to when she appeared.
“I thought we were going to breakfast.”
“That was just an appetizer. Daily Grind?”
She nodded and they headed downstairs. Her uncles Tris and Ewan were sitting at the counter of the bar, having a cup of coffee, discussing last night’s ball game. They hadn’t been there when Landon arrived, which made things awkward…and potentially dangerous. Her uncles were big guys and protective of their nieces…and sisters…and wives…and daughters.
“Late night or early morning?” Tris asked.
Sunnie gave both of her uncles a quick kiss on the cheek. Now that she’d showered and dressed, she’d come fully to life, the excitement over her television interview growing by the minute.
“We’re going to be on TV,” she said, filling them in on the details—the channel, show and time. “Talking about our viral video.”
Ewan was amused by Sunnie’s enthusiasm. “We’ll be sure to watch it.”
They started to leave, but Sunnie turned around just as they reached the door. “Oh, I almost forgot. Landon and I are pretending to be a couple to scare away all the single ladies who’ve been swarming since his Hot Cop debut. Do not become alarmed,” she said casually. “It’s all make believe.”
Sunnie turned away, not noticing the narrowed-eyed, suspicious looks her uncles shot in his direction. He gave them a subtle one-shouldered shrug, then turned to follow Sunnie.
They walked hand in hand to the coffee shop. There were no cameras, no fawning women, no one watching. There was no one on the street with them besides people rushing to work, so he didn’t need to hold her hand.
But he wanted to. Mercifully, Sunnie didn’t give him shit for it or try to pull away.
Once they got their coffee and breakfast sandwiches, they found a table in a quiet corner.
“I suspect they’ll ask about our relationship, so I was thinking—” Sunnie started, her eyes bright. If he knew her—and he did—she was ready to concoct the mother of all stories, something over-the-top and probably ridiculous.
Landon headed her off at the pass. “I was too,” he interjected. “The safest, smartest bet is sticking as closely to the truth as possible.”
Her shoulders slumped and it was clear she didn’t care for that suggestion. Regardless, he pressed on. “We just say we’ve known each other since we were kids. After the mugging, we realized our feelings had changed from just friends to something more.”
She feigned a yawn. “Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?” she said sarcastically. “I fell asleep halfway through that thrilling tale of our romance.”
Landon closed his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. It was a look he’d perfected over the years, simply because he’d seen it repeated on Aaron’s and Finn’s faces so often. The Young men had a patented look whenever Riley or Sunnie or Darcy said or did something outrageous. And they, like him, used it to hide the fact that rather than exasperated, they were entertained.
The Young women had an energy, a love for life that was undeniably fun. Landon used to laugh at Sunnie’s antics, until Finn insisted it only encouraged her to go even wilder. Somewhere along the line, Landon had chosen his side, crossed over and joined the men, adopting their fake impatience.
“We’re not making up some asinine story, Sunnie. For one thing, too many people know us and someone, somewhere, would contradict it. And for another, we don’t have time for it. We’re going on air in just a couple of hours.”
“Landon—” she started.
“Nonnegotiable.”
She leaned back and crossed her arms, though he didn’t think she looked angry as much as confused. “So our story is we’ve been friends forever, you kissed me after the mugging, and that was it? It was a lights-on moment and now we’re head over heels?”
From her tone, Sunnie seemed to think that concept implausible.
Landon knew better. Except his lights turned on at the April Fools party.
“Why do you find that so hard to believe?” he asked.
“Because we do know each other so well. If we were going to fall in love, it wouldn’t have been because of a kiss—or two kisses,” she corrected, recalling the April Fools party.
“How many kisses do you need to know you’re in love with someone?” It would have been a practical question if he’d been asking anyone besides Sunnie. But he knew her dating track record. She reminded him of the damn Tootsie Pop owl. She didn’t know how many kisses because she’d give
a guy three licks, then crunch. End of the line.
She shrugged. “More than two.”
Sunnie was very good at saying things with absolute confidence. It gave people around her this misguided sense that she actually knew what she was talking about.
“How many?” he pressed, calling her on it. No guy had ever pushed the envelope with her. Primarily because she only accepted dates with men whose biceps were bigger than their brains. None of her previous boyfriends had challenged her, forced the issue of feelings and commitment because they were shallow vessels.
Sunnie was smart enough to know that, so she’d found the perfect way to guard her heart.
There was a small part inside him that thought he should have his head examined for even thinking about dating Sunnie, simply because he had a healthy dose of self-preservation himself, and he had no idea how this was going to end up.
All he knew was what he wanted.
Her. Forever.
However, her confidence was only overshadowed by her stubbornness. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“A ton of kisses. Close to a million.”
Landon shook his head and made a buzzer sound to indicate he was calling her on her bullshit. “Nope. I’m going to need a more practical answer.”
“How many times did you kiss Allison before some ‘ah-ha, I’m in love’ moment?” It was a classic duck and cover move on her part. If she didn’t know the answer, she changed the subject, putting the questioner on the offensive instead.
“Four times.”
She snorted before she realized he was serious.
“Four times,” she repeated. “That sounds like you. You are a hopeless romantic, Landon. What happened to make it the fourth the one?”
“You’ve already heard my Allison stories, Sunnie.” She, like Finn, had been his confidante the past seven or eight years. Typically, it was the three of them at the bar, talking about relationships, sports, future plans. She had been his friend every step of the way through the Allison years.
“Never in this context. I mean, I heard about the dates and the getting-lucky parts. And I was there when she left.” Her eyes softened.
Landon had been brokenhearted when Allison realized she would regret not taking her shot at Broadway if she settled down with him in Baltimore. He’d respected her honesty even though it had shattered him.
The night she’d thrown her stuff in the back of her car and taken off for the bright lights of the big city, Finn and Sunnie had shown up, armed with pizza and beer, and they’d cued up every John Cusack movie on Finn’s iTunes account. Sunnie’s brother had a serious man-crush on John Cusack for some reason.
“Our first date was a blind date, set up by one of the guys at the precinct. The second was a work function, summer picnic. She hung out with the other wives and girlfriends and taught three little girls how to play hopscotch after drawing the boxes out with sidewalk chalk for them.”
“And the third,” she continued for him, “was the two of you walking along the Inner Harbor for hours, just holding hands and talking, amazed by how much you had in common.” She said it in a dreamy, faraway voice, teasing him for what she perceived was a flaw. Only Sunnie would see romance as a shortcoming.
Of course, she wasn’t wrong about the third date, which just proved to him she’d been paying attention more than he realized to his relationship with Allison.
Rather than give her the point, he joked, “I swear to God you were dropped on your head as a baby. It’s the only thing that could explain you growing up with Aaron and Riley and thinking romance is cheesy.”
She laughed. “Probably. So what was this magical fourth date?”
“We met you and Finn and a bunch of other Collinses at the pub for karaoke.”
“Oh yeah. I remember that night.”
“She fit in, thought all of you were awesome. We left at closing time and we were walking toward my car. She kept going on and on about what a great family you were and…I kissed her. And I knew—thought—she was the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with. She was fine with my job, good with kids, said she wanted to get married, rooted for all the same sports teams, watched all the same TV shows, and she loved all of you.”
“That sort of sounds like a checklist.”
It did, but he hadn’t thought of it that way until he’d said it all out loud. “I guess it does.”
“Wow. That might be the least romantic thing you’ve ever said.”
Landon nodded, feeling slightly off-balance. He’d spent months after Allison left feeling as if he was trying to rebound from a broken heart. Now it seemed as if that depression was based more on what he’d lost, not who he’d lost. “I think it is.”
“It’s that marriage problem of yours.”
“Problem?” he asked.
“You want a wife and kids like…yesterday.”
“I don’t think that’s a problem, Sunnie.”
“Hear me out,” she continued. “It was just you and your mom, pretty much your whole life. That had to be quiet and lonely. Then you’d come over to our house, where it was noise and chaos and insanity, and for some weird reason, you liked that. A lot.”
“I did…do. I don’t think it’s any secret I look up to your dad. I look at his life and I know it’s what I want. More than that, he’s the kind of man I want to be. He was always really good to me, Sunnie. I was starving for a guy to pay attention to me, to toss the ball around, even just to give me hell for failing my spelling test.”
“You’re a shit speller.”
He grinned, even though he couldn’t quite figure out what her point was. “What’s wrong with wanting to live a life like Aaron Young?”
“Not a damn thing,” she said quickly. “If you manage that, you’ll have a pretty freaking great life. I just…” She sighed. “I just hope you let it happen naturally. I’m pretty sure my dad didn’t have a perfect wife checklist, and I can promise you, if he did, Mom didn’t check one single box. She struggled—hell, she still struggles—with his job, she’s way more social than he is, constantly dragging him to places he doesn’t want to go, and while they both wanted kids, Mom wanted eight, but Dad put his foot down at three. Personally, I blame Darcy. She was a handful.”
Landon gave her a look that said he wasn’t going there because they both knew the truth. Darcy had been the perfect baby.
Sunnie continued, completely oblivious to what she was doing—solidifying something that was becoming more obvious by the second. “Just make sure you pick a woman based on the right reasons. Allison might have checked all the boxes, but I’m not sure that made her the one. You know what I mean?”
Landon nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”
He loved Sunnie.
She was imperfectly perfect for him.
“Cool,” she said, clueless to what she’d just unleashed.
Landon glanced at the time on his phone. “We better get going.”
She took his hand this time, winking at what she considered great acting. He squeezed it fondly and they left the coffee shop.
Two hours later, Landon found himself sitting on a couch with Sunnie on the set of the morning show. She’d been right. He hated sitting in front of the cameras, under the lights. He felt like a jackass.
Landon had turned down countless requests for interviews, but he’d decided to bite the bullet on this one because he knew it was one of Sunnie’s favorite shows. And given the grin on her face, she definitely loved every minute of it.
Mercifully, he hadn’t had to say more than a few words as Sunnie took the lead. Not that this interview would help him at work. He would never live this down.
She was sticking to the truth, as they’d discussed, claiming that kiss changed everything between them. Sunnie didn’t realize exactly how accurate that was.
The anchorwoman, Beverly Monroe, sounded far too much like the women who’d written him love letters, constantly batting her eyes at him, flushing whenever
he looked her direction, giggling at the two comments he’d made, even though neither had been particularly funny.
“I imagine,” Beverly said to Sunnie, “it became pretty obvious how Landon felt about you right after that kiss. The way he looked at you was…” The woman sighed for dramatic effect. “So dreamy! Every woman in the world wants to be looked at like that, am I right?”
For the first time, Sunnie faltered, clearly confused, her grin appearing frozen in place. It took a few seconds before she managed an unconvincing nod, and Landon wondered what was going on.
The cameraman gave Beverly a signal, music started playing as she closed the show. Once it was over, she thanked both of them for coming, shaking Landon’s hand a little longer than was probably polite.
Sunnie’s eyes narrowed briefly before she gave him a subtle, exasperated eye roll behind Beverly’s back.
They gathered their stuff and headed for the car. There were about twenty women standing outside the studio, and they pressed forward when he and Sunnie emerged. It took them a good ten minutes before they were able to push themselves free.
Once they were in the car, Sunnie said, “I get it.”
“Get what?”
“I’ve only really been dealing with tabloid photographers, who, while annoying, don’t invade my personal space like that. Did that one woman really just grab your ass?”
The woman had, her hand slipping away quickly when Landon turned, piercing her with his don’t-fuck-with-me cop face.
“Yeah. But on the plus side, there were fewer than before. First day after my name was released, I think there were close to seventy-five women outside the precinct.”
“Holy shit. I had no idea how crazy they’ve been.”
Landon pulled out of the parking garage, still bothered by Sunnie’s face at the end of the show. His gut was telling him that something didn’t make sense.
