Make-Believe Wedding (Montana Born Brides Book 9)

by Sarah Mayberry

  “I’m going home now,” she said, “but if anyone asks, you’re proud as punch that your baby sister is marrying your best friend. Got it? And the reason we didn’t blab it all around town was because we work together and didn’t want to mess with the dynamic.”

  “You’re asking me to lie for you?”

  “Yep, I am. And I want you to be convincing, too, because otherwise I’ll have to leave town and have plastic surgery to hide my identity.”

  Beau followed her to the front door. “You should have taken Sharon out the back and tried a little non-verbal communication with her. Would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.”

  “I’ll remember that next time I’m publicly insulted by a deranged woman.”

  Beau caught her shoulder before she could start down the porch stairs. “Before you go. Dad called today. He and Trudy are going to be in town in September.”

  “How long are they staying?”

  “Just for the weekend, I think. Trudy’s got a show in Seattle.”

  Their father had married a successful artist after their parents’ divorce when she was sixteen, and his life had pretty much been subsumed by hers from day one.

  She nodded. “I’ll mark it on my calendar.”

  She punched her brother on the arm and started down the steps.

  “That hurt,” Beau called after her.

  “It should. You taught me how to punch,” she said over her shoulder.

  She’d left her phone in the pickup, and she grabbed it when she got in and added her father’s visit to her calendar. She hadn’t seen him face-to-face for nearly two years. Once, that would have made her incredibly sad, but she was resigned to his benign neglect these days. After Ben had died, he’d slowly drifted away from the rest of them. At the time, it had been baffling and hurtful and had destroyed their already-fragile family, but now Andie understood that he’d simply been doing what he needed to do to survive his grief.

  No one was perfect, after all. Least of all her, and she had a drunken entry in a wedding giveaway competition to prove it.

  The full impact of the day’s events hit her then, sucker-punching her in the gut. Heath had saved her bacon tonight, and he was about to do it repeatedly for weeks on end as her pretend fiancé. A bubble of hysterical laughter rose up her throat as it occurred to her what she’d inadvertently done: signed up for her own personal version of Hell.

  For as many weeks as it took, she would have to hold Heath’s hand and let him put his arm around her and pretend that she was his and he was hers. And none of it would be real, even though her stupid heart longed for it to be so.

  And there’s no one to blame but yourself, dufus.

  Always a comforting thought.

  Fastening her seatbelt, she started her pickup and headed for home.

  Chapter Five

  The phone’s belligerent, persistent ring dragged Andie out of sleep the next morning. Eyes squinted, she fumbled around on her bedside table until she found it.

  Lily had insisted on dissecting every second of the scene in Grey’s Saloon over and over with her when she got home, and it had been late when she finally said goodbye to her friend and hit the sack. She groaned when she saw the time on the phone—seven thirty—and hit the button to take the call.

  “I was just about to hang up. Don’t tell me you’re still in bed?”

  Heath’s deep voice filled her ear and Andie’s eyes popped all the way open.

  “It’s Saturday. My one sleep-in day.”

  “Which explains why you sound like a two-pack-a-day smoker.”

  “I haven’t used my voice yet. Because I was asleep. Note the past tense.”

  “I told you I’d call.”

  “You didn’t say it would be at the crack of dawn.”

  “Dawn was hours ago. I know, because I saw the sun come up.”

  “Now you’re just bragging.” Andie snuggled further beneath the covers. Having Heath in her bed—even virtually—was a rare pleasure, and she wasn’t above enjoying it.

  When you’d been nursing unrequited love for a man for years, you learned to take your moments where you could find them.

  “Why were you up in time to see the sun rise?” she asked.

  “I went for a run.”

  “You couldn’t have done that at a civilized hour?”

  “I had a bit on my mind.”

  Some of her lazy enjoyment faded away. Right. This was a business call. Sort of.

  “If you’re having second thoughts, I totally understand- “

  “I’m not having second thoughts. I read through the information Jane left for us. It’s pretty straight forward. They’re announcing the winners at the Summer Solstice picnic in town. So we’ve got five weeks of being in the spotlight, then it’s all over.”

  “ Five weeks. Okay. I guess that’s doable.”

  “The Copper Mountain Courier want to do a profile piece on us, but we can put them off. There’s no need to turn this into a spectacle.”

  “God, no.”

  Although they were already halfway there.

  “I figure we just keep our heads down, and this will all go away,” he said.

  “Good plan.”

  “All right. I’ll let you go back to sleep.”

  She blinked. That was it?

  “I thought we were going to work out the details.”

  “We just did.”

  She rolled her eyes. How like a man was that?

  “Heath, people are going to want to know how long we’ve been together. They’re going to ask how you proposed, and when we were planning on getting married… This is Marietta. They’re going to be nosy.”

  Silence from his end of the phone. Then: “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “What are you doing for the rest of the day?” she asked.

  Her heart gave a treacherous leap at the thought of spending time alone with Heath without the rest of the crew hanging around.

  “I’m doing some work at the house,” Heath said.

  “I could come over and help and we could hash something out.”

  “You’ve done enough already.”

  Heath had been building his own home on the weekends and in-between jobs for the past twelve months. Andie and the rest of the crew had all helped out, but Heath had been very careful not to abuse their generosity.

  “Consider it payment in kind for the five weeks you’re about to spend pretending to be my fiancé,” she said.

  “When you put it that way… What time should I expect you?”

  Andie glanced at the time. “Ten?”

  “You’re going back to sleep again, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  His laugh came down the line, warm and deep. She squeezed her thighs together. God, she loved his laugh. Almost as much as she loved his big, strong hands. And his eyes—

  “Andie?”

  “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “I told you to wear old clothes. We’ll be painting.”

  She groaned. She hated painting. “You could have told me that before I offered to help.”

  “But then you might not have offered.”

  “That’s kind of the point.”

  He laughed again, and she curled her toes into the mattress.

  “I’ll see you at ten,” he said.

  “You will. I’m almost certain of it.”

  She ended the call and let her hand flop down onto the mattress, phone and all. Staring up at the ceiling, she let herself remember those few precious seconds from last night again. She’d been trying not to dwell on them, scared of wearing them out and sucking all the goodness from them, but her willpower was low after Heath’s call.

  She closed her eyes, going back to last night, remembering the way he’d rested his hand on her shoulder and turned her body ever so slightly toward him. The way his mouth had found hers so confidently. The knowing stroke of his tongue in her mouth. The feel of his hard chest against her breasts. The slide of
his hand down her back, and the heat of his hand as he’d cupped her butt and pulled her more urgently against him…

  She pressed a hand to her sternum. Her heart was going a mile a minute, her breath coming in short, sharp pants.

  That kiss wasn’t real. It was for show. You need to remember that.

  She did. She so did. And she needed to remember that the only reason any of this was happening was because Heath felt sorry for her, because when all of this silliness was over, she still had to work for him and live in this town and be a part of his life.

  She rolled onto her belly, determined to lull herself back to sleep. Fifteen minutes later, she gave up, throwing the covers back. She spent the next few hours tidying her apartment and catching up on laundry before showering and dressing in a pair of old jeans she’d hacked off at the knee and one of her brother’s old shirts. She braided her hair before coiling it into a bun high on the back of her head, then gave herself a quick once over.

  She looked like a tall, skinny boy with a girl’s hairdo. But what was new about that?

  Turning her back on the mirror, she grabbed her things and headed for the door. She made a quick stop at the bakery on the way out of town, then aimed her car north-west. Like her brother, Heath had bought himself a handful of acres just out of town, but his land was over near Riverbend Park on a rise that offered him a spectacular view of the town and the Absaroka Range. He’d designed the house himself to take full advantage of the views, and as always she got a funny tight feeling in her chest when she drove around the final bend in the road and saw it in all its glory.

  Built from local stone and timber, it had an aggressive, jutting roofline that looked as though it was going to take flight, and huge expanses of glass to soak in the views. It was edgy and beautiful and clever, a testament to his vision and skill as a builder.

  Last time she’d been here, she’d spent the day crawling around in the roof space installing the two enormous iron chandeliers Heath had chosen for the dining room as well as doing final fixes on the various power outlets and light switches throughout the house. That had been over a month ago, and she was keen to see how far Heath had progressed since then.

  Collecting the bag of goodies from the bakery, she made her way over the churned-up earth to the stone-flagged entranceway. The double doors were huge and she had the unfamiliar sensation of actually feeling petite as she knocked and waited for Heath to answer.

  The door swung open almost immediately, and she forgot what she was going to say, every thought blown away by the sight of Heath in ragged, worn jeans and an over-sized tank top that offered glimpses of his chest and torso. In case that wasn’t enough, his face was dark with stubble, and his feet bare.

  In short, he looked good enough to pounce on, push to the floor and ravish.

  If you were that kind of girl.

  Andie settled for swallowing the huge lump of lust in her throat and trying to appear normal.

  “Hey,” she said, lifting the bag of Danishes. “I bought sustenance.”

  “You’re a mind reader. I was just about to start gnawing my arm off,” Heath said, flashing her a smile.

  Andie told herself not to swoon and glanced past him into the vast entrance hall. “How are things looking in there these days?”

  “Come see.”

  He stepped aside so she could enter, and she saw that the entrance hall had already received a couple of coats of paint in a warm linen color. The walnut floorboards had yet to be polished—Heath wouldn’t do that until after he’d finished painting—but she could already see how spectacular this space was going to be.

  “Wow,” she said.

  Heath glanced around. “Yeah. It’s coming up well.”

  “Says the master of the understatement. It’s beautiful, Heath.”

  His smile was endearingly sweet. “Thanks.”

  He led her into the main living area, and she stopped in her tracks. The rustic wood mantlepiece above the enormous open fire was a new addition, along with the kickboards and other trims. Here the walls were a soft cafe latte, a color she wanted to reach out and touch, and she could only stand and shake her head at how stunning it all was.

  “You are never going to want to leave this place,” she said. “‘We’ll have to come pry you out of the house every morning with a crowbar to get you to the worksite.”

  Heath glanced around, and she could see the quiet pride in his face. She was well aware that as a teenager Heath had slept on a fold-out couch in his father’s one-bedroom apartment for several years after his mother had taken off with a rodeo cowboy. You didn’t need to be Dr. Freud to understand why he craved space, and why he’d put so much time, effort and imagination into creating a home that was all his own.

  “Still not sure how I’m going to furnish this place, but I guess I’ll work it out,” Heath said.

  Andie cocked her head, considering the room. “I think you should get a big sectional so you can make the most of the fireplace,” she said. “And one of those patchwork rugs made up of sections from vintage Turkish rugs.”

  Heath squinted his eyes, as though trying to see her vision. “That could work.”

  “And you need good curtains and cushions. I know you men don’t ‘get them’, but they make a difference.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” Heath’s gaze fell to the bag in her hand. “Can I have a Danish now?” She tossed the bag at him. “Surprised you waited this long to ask.”

  He was already peering inside, his eyes bright with greed. “You got apple.”

  Of course she had. It was his favorite.

  “They were still warm from the oven when I picked them up,” she said.

  Heath made a lip-smacking sound and she laughed.

  “Come on. I’ve got some coffee in the kitchen,” he said, gesturing with his chin.

  He turned and headed through the wide doorway to his right, and she snuck a glance at his body before following him. The things he did for worn denim… The man should come with a hazard warning tied around his neck. And a bucket of cold water for women to douse themselves with.

  He was pouring two cups of coffee when she entered, and he slid one across the cloth-covered counter toward her. Underneath the cloth, she knew, were wide counters crafted from gorgeous Crema Nuova marble, but Heath was carefully protecting them until the house was complete. Likewise, he hadn’t installed the doors, drawers and kick plates yet, leaving the kitchen’s bare carcass exposed for now.

  “So. We need a story,” Heath said as he tore the bakery bag in two, exposing the pastries.

  Andie rubbed her hands down the thighs of her cut-offs. “Yeah. I think we should keep it simple. Something we can both remember. Something that people will believe.”

  Heath nodded, busy chewing on a Danish. She took a sip of coffee and was unable to stop herself from checking out the parts of his chest left exposed by the loose, low neckline of his tank top. Crisp dark hair covered his pecs—just enough to scream ‘masculine’ without getting into monkey costume territory—and she had a sudden, powerful sense memory of just how hot and hard all that muscle had felt when he’d yanked her up against him last night.

  Her coffee went down the wrong way, and she nearly choked as she fought to get air and clear her throat at the same time.

  “You okay?” Heath asked, concern on his face.

  “Fine,” she rasped. “Just swallowed the wrong way.”

  “Think you’d have the hang of that after twenty-six years,” he said, gentle laughter in his eyes.

  “Seems like it, but apparently I’m a slow learner,” she said.

  She took another mouthful of coffee, and this time it went down the right way. Mostly because she kept her gaze fixed firmly on Heath’s face.

  “So. A simple story,” he said, his gaze becoming thoughtful. “I guess I asked you to marry me and you said yes isn’t going to cut it?”

  “People are going to want to know why you asked me. We’ve known each other
half our lives. Why get together now?” Andie said.

  Heath frowned, and Andie felt a stab of pain somewhere in the region of her heart. Was it really that hard for him to imagine why he might see her as something other than his oldest friend’s little sister?

  “What if I started seeing some new guy you didn’t like, and you got jealous?” Andie suggested.

  “I don’t really do jealousy,” Heath said.

  Of course he didn’t. He’d had his choice of women since the day his voice broke. What reason was there to be jealous of one particular woman when the queue of hopefuls formed to the left?

  “Do you have a better idea?” Andie asked.

  Heath’s dark gaze raked her face and she could practically hear his brain ticking over. “What if something happened on the worksite, and it got me thinking? Maybe you nearly fell down a ladder and I caught you. Something like that.”

  Andie made a rude noise.

  “I take it you don’t approve?” he said.

  “Can’t we come up with a scenario where I don’t have to be incompetent in order for you to be romantically attracted to me?”

  Heath frowned. “I don’t need for you to be incompetent to be attracted to you.”

  A little thrill went through her at his words. She gave herself a mental slap.

  He’s not saying he’s attracted to you, dufus. He’s talking generally.

  “How about this?” she said. “We had too much to drink one Friday after work, and you drove me home and something happened. We thought it was a one-off, but it turned out it wasn’t, and we decided to keep our relationship on the down-low until we worked out what it was. Which is why the guys at work had no idea.”

  Heath nodded slowly. “Okay. That’ll probably work. What about the proposal?”

  “You were inspired by all the wedding competition talk, so you asked, and I said yes, and we entered on the night of the Valentine’s Day ball on impulse, because they were low on entries, and never thought we’d stand a chance of winning.”

  “Well, that part at least has the virtue of being partly true,” he said dryly.