The Wedding Hoax

by Heather Thurmeier

  Her cell phone rang loudly in her pocket, saving her from having to say anymore. “Hello,” she said without bothering to check the caller display. She’d talk to anyone right now. Anyone except the man standing in front of her.

  “Daisy? It’s Samantha.”

  Her heart sank. Samantha only called when something was wrong with her mom. “What is it?”

  “I took Helen into the hospital.”

  She didn’t ask for details. It didn’t matter what had happened or why. “I’ll be right there.”

  “Is everything okay?” Cole asked when she hung up the phone.

  “Mom’s in the hospital. I have to go.”

  “I’ll come with you.” He took her hand and squeezed it. The warmth of his touch was comforting, and she wanted more than anything to have someone by her side right now…every time her mom had a setback. But that person would never be Cole.

  She pulled her hand back and started for the door. “If you really want to help, take care of the booth for me.” She didn’t miss the look of hurt on his face at her rejection.

  She couldn’t linger on his feelings right now. She’d deal with Cole and Mason later after she knew her mom was okay. Until then, her only goal was getting to her mom and finding out what happened.

  …

  Helen smiled as she walked into the hospital room. Daisy scanned the area quickly, assessing the amount of machinery needed during this visit. She saw only the most basic equipment by the bed and instantly felt her shoulders relax. Whatever had happened to put her mom in the hospital again, it couldn’t have been too bad.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, coming to the bedside and kissing her mom on the cheek. “What happened?”

  “Just a little leg pain. No big deal.” Her mom patted her cheek in an attempt to comfort her. It didn’t work.

  Daisy eyed Samantha, knowing if anyone would give her the full story, it would be the nurse.

  “It was more than leg pain,” Samantha said, not waiting for Daisy to ask the question. “She had pain and some swelling in her good leg. I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t a blood clot, so we came in. They’ve run some tests, and it looks like we overdid it with her exercises this week.”

  “So there’s no clot?” Daisy pressed. A blood clot was always a concern with her mother’s limited mobility. And one wouldn’t be considered a simple setback. Blood clots could be fatal if untreated. Samantha had done the right thing bringing her mom in for testing.

  “No, there doesn’t appear to be. But they want her to stay overnight to be safe.”

  She collapsed into the chair beside the bed and held her mom’s hand, massaging it as she always did to help with circulation. Every stroke of her thumbs eased the stress in her shoulders more. Her mom was fine. A night of observation was nothing compared to what they’d been through before.

  Her phone rang. She quickly pulled it from her pocket and sent the call to voice mail, but not quickly enough to miss seeing Cole’s name flash across the screen.

  What the hell was she going to do about him?

  An hour ago she’d been set on leaving him and Mason behind and breaking their deal. But that was before her mom had ended up in the hospital. A new round of medical bills would show up in her mail, and she’d have to find a way to pay them. How many more times would her mom end up in the hospital? How would Daisy pay for her care without the help of Mason’s investment?

  “You can take the call if you need to. The nurses say cell phones are fine in this area,” her mom said.

  “It isn’t important.”

  Her mom glanced down to the ring on Daisy’s hand, examined it. “I saw it was Cole. I thought he was important to you? I did just attend your spur-of-the-moment engagement party to the man, didn’t I?”

  Was he important to her? Maybe. Maybe not.

  “I’m sure you’re thrilled to have an excuse to add more pictures of him to your room for scenery, aren’t you?”

  Samantha shrugged. “I wouldn’t turn them down.”

  “Nonsense. He’s going to be my son-in-law soon. I can’t see anything but my daughter’s future husband in him anymore.”

  “It’s a pity, really. We’ll have to find some other hunk to put in a frame.” Samantha winked, clearly joking.

  “Maybe you can get a couple of good pictures of Cole’s friends at the wedding. I wouldn’t want you to have to go too long without some solid man candy around.” Daisy rolled her eyes. She was glad to see her mom in good spirits. But how long would that good mood last if Daisy bailed on her deal and had no money to pay for medical care?

  “How are wedding plans coming along?” her mom asked.

  “They’re good. I’m picking out wedding dresses next week with Cole for the big Chicago bridal show.” If I decide to go through with this.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually going to let the public pick out the dress you’ll wear on your big day.”

  “I’m picking out the options, so I’ll only include ones I’d be okay wearing. Besides, it will be fun and less stressful to have the decision off my shoulders.”

  “As long as you’re happy, dear. That’s all that matters to me.” Her mom smiled and used her good hand to tightly grip Daisy’s. Sometimes she forgot how strong her mother really was, both physically and mentally. No one else she knew could go through a stroke and still see the sunshine in every cloudy day.

  Could she really turn her back on her mother’s care because she was feeling too weak to deal with Cole? Wasn’t her mother’s health worth the pain of a possible broken heart? Shouldn’t she be the one to bear the burden for a while so her mother didn’t have to take on any more?

  “I am happy, Mom,” she said, forcing a smile to her lips that she hoped looked genuine. She wanted more than anything to be able to confide in her mom and tell her the truth about her relationship. But she couldn’t. Doing that would make her mother feel like a burden and that was completely untrue. She would do anything for her mom.

  Including fake-marrying Cole.

  “You’re right, Cole is important to me, and I really should go call him back. He’ll worry if he doesn’t hear from me soon.”

  She wandered to the waiting room at the end of the hall. Luckily, the room was empty today. She dialed his number and took a few deep breaths while she waited for him to pick up.

  “Is everything okay? Is Helen all right?”

  The concern in his voice surprised her, and she was momentarily speechless. She hadn’t expected him to waste time worrying about her family.

  “She’s okay,” she said, her voice still strained with stress. “It was a scare. One night in the hospital for observation, and she can go home.”

  He let out a long breath. “That’s great news.”

  Comfort swept over her. It was nice to have someone share her concern for a change, even if it was still shocking that concern came from Cole.

  “When you’re done at the hospital, can I come by?” he asked. “We need to talk.”

  “There’s no need. I thought about what I said earlier, about how I acted earlier. And I know now I was unfair to you. We’re both still trying to adjust to our new status. I’m not going to bail on our deal.”

  He was silent for a moment. “I’m glad to hear that, but are you sure?”

  Was she sure? Not really. But she was positive that surviving another broken heart from Cole would be easier than seeing her mom go without proper medical care.

  “I’m sure,” she said, injecting confidence she didn’t completely feel into her voice. “I’ll see you next week at the boutique to pick out dresses, okay?” She hung up the phone before he could say anything else.

  Sitting in the waiting room chair, she finally let the tears she’d been holding back flow freely. Tears of worry for her mom. Tears of stress over the pressure of this investment deal going right. Tears over what she feared she might have to endure over the coming months.

  Her mind was made up, once and for all. She would b
e Cole’s fiancée in public. And in private, she would do whatever she could to protect her heart from him.

  Chapter Eight

  Cole adjusted himself in the boutique chair as Daisy came out in yet another stunning dress. He didn’t think it was possible to be attracted to a woman in a wedding gown, but apparently it was.

  And it was maddening.

  Damn it. He didn’t want to be any more attracted to Daisy than he already was. At this point, he wanted her to walk down the aisle in a white garbage bag so he didn’t have to see the shape of her curves, teasing him about what he couldn’t have but also couldn’t stop thinking about.

  Nor could he stop imagining those undergarments she’d mentioned to the women at the bridal show. Was Daisy wearing something sexy under all that white lace and satin, too? A push-up bra? A thong?

  He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees, ignoring the ache in his groin at the thought of Daisy in a thong. He didn’t even have to use his imagination. An image of her lying on her stomach across his bed came to mind. Her skin had been smooth under his fingertips as he traced the lace of her thong to where it disappeared between two luscious hills of milky-white flesh. She’d shivered beneath his touch when he’d caressed the tiny crease where her bottom met the backs of her thighs. And when he’d playfully smacked her ass, the apples of her cheeks weren’t the only spot on her body to blush as she’d rolled away from him, giggling and smiling seductively.

  If he’d realized that would be one of his last moments with Daisy, he would have savored it more, prolonged his own enjoyment to push hers further. What he wouldn’t give to see that spark in her eyes when she was on the cusp of going over the edge again. Or the pink tinge in her cheeks as his tongue tasted her.

  “Cole!” Daisy’s voice was sharp, piercing his thoughts and shattering the nice memory he was currently enjoying more than the present moment.

  “That one is nice,” Cole said on instinct, forcing himself to focus on the dress she wore instead of what she might be wearing underneath it. This dress was similar to the others—sleeveless, white, satin and beads, and expertly hand-stitched. He’d never really given Daisy a lot of credit for her work before, but he should have. She was a master of her craft.

  She put her hands on her hips. “That’s what you said about every dress so far. Are you even paying attention?”

  No.

  “I’m trying to, but you know how I feel about shopping.” He laid his head back and rubbed his eyes hard, hoping to erase the memory of Daisy’s thong from his brain long enough to get through this torture without a raging hard-on.

  “How could I forget? You’re worse than taking a child shopping. At least with a kid you can give them a snack or a toy to keep them busy.”

  “I could go for a snack.” He shrugged.

  She clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes at him—an expression of annoyance he was extremely familiar with. There was something so rewarding about soliciting this response from her.

  “I don’t know why you’re here,” she said, turning once more in the mirror.

  The dress had delicate ribbons crisscrossing an open back that tied just above where her thong would be, if she’d worn one. Now this was a dress he could get on board with.

  “I don’t know, either, but I like this dress. It should be in the running.”

  His gaze traveled up her spine to find her pinning him with a glare before rolling her eyes again. “Sure, now you’re interested in dresses as long as they show enough skin. I get it.”

  Third time. He smirked with pride. Still got it.

  “You’d look great walking down the aisle in anything.” It might be true, but the thought of his wedding day, fake or not, still made him feel nauseous.

  “I should have pulled some dresses from the rack and been done with it already for all the help you are.” She stepped off the small platform she’d been on in front of the mirrors.

  He jumped up to stop her before she made it back into the changing room. “I’m sorry. Your gowns are beautiful, and they all look amazing on you. You should really take this as a compliment.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Thank you. But the photographer is here to take pictures of you helping me choose dress options.”

  Cole glanced over to a photographer who’d been hanging out in the corner of the boutique the entire time. The man was so quiet, Cole had forgotten he was taking pictures for the magazine. “All right. Take that one off, and I’ll pick out a dress so I’ve done my part. Deal?”

  “Fine.”

  She disappeared into the changing room but returned a second later. “Tonya’s disappeared, and I can’t get out of this on my own. Can you untie me?” She turned her back to him.

  He stepped into the change room. The ribbons were silky in his fingers, reminding him of her skin. Gently pulling on one of the ends, he held his breath as the ribbon loosened, the bow at her small of her back vanishing to reveal a patch of naked, ivory skin. He slipped a finger between her back and the ribbons. She shivered as he tugged the last of the ribbons free.

  “Zipper, too.”

  He trailed his finger along her exposed skin where it met the edge of the satiny material in search of the elusive zipper. He hoped not to find it too soon.

  She peered back over her shoulder at him, her eyes darting downward as if trying to see his work. “Right there,” she said as his finger snagged on a hard bit of metal. “You know what? I can probably reach that on my own.

  No way. She wasn’t getting away now. “I’ve got it.” He held her gaze while he slowly pulled down the tiny, two-inch-long zipper. Every pair of teeth that opened separated the material a little more. And every fraction of separation sent his thoughts swirling to what he’d find hiding underneath.

  A thong. As suspected…hoped for. White, lacy, just like the one she’d worn when they’d been together.

  The click of a camera made them both jump. The photographer smiled at the display scene on the back of his camera. “That’s the money shot, right there.”

  He stepped back and retrieved his hand from where it had been covering the triangle of white fabric that was Daisy’s thong. Shit! Had he been groping her without noticing? Best to play it off casual. “That ought to do it. I’ll go pick a dress. For you. To try on. Without my help.”

  She nodded and snapped the dressing room curtain closed.

  This time, he was the one to roll his eyes at his own pathetic, nervous rambling.

  He sifted through the racks and chose two dresses for Daisy to try, hanging them outside the door to the changing room. “Here’s a couple of dresses. I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  On his way back through the workroom, a shimmer of ivory and beads caught his attention. Over in the corner, a gown on a mannequin twinkled under the lights. He made his way across the room to see it up close.

  The gown was nothing short of spectacular. He’d never seen anything like it. Simple, tasteful, meticulously detailed, and absolutely breathtaking. Now that he’d found it, all of the other dresses she’d tried on paled in comparison.

  He peeked around the back of the mannequin, unsure of how to remove the dress without ruining it. When he couldn’t see an easy way to get it free, he picked up the entire thing, mannequin and all, and brought it out to the boutique showroom.

  She was already on the platform again. Her gaze caught his in the reflection of the mirrors. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

  “I found it in the back.” He set it down and stepped back to look at it again. “I couldn’t figure out how to get it off the mannequin, so I brought the whole thing with me. I hope that’s okay.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s not okay. And I’m not wearing that dress.”

  “Why not? You told me to pick dresses, so I did. This one is perfect for you. It’s like you made it with yourself in mind.”

  “That dress is not available for this wedding.” H
er jaw was set, her eyes narrow, challenging him to dispute her.

  His wedding wasn’t worthy of that dress? Nice. He’d see about that.

  “Just put that dress on so I can see it. Please.”

  “No.”

  Damn it. He’d asked nicely. Why was she so infuriating and confrontational? Why the hell did he even give a damn about this stupid dress?

  “Why?” he demanded, watching as her nose crinkled as her scowl deepened. Damn that little nose crinkle was cute. Had it always been there when she glared at him, or was this a special occasion? Surely he’d pissed her off more than this previously.

  “None of your business,” she said, holding her ground like a hostage negotiator. “The other two dresses you picked can go into the public poll, but that one is staying here. Don’t even try to fight me on it. I’m the designer, and I say that dress isn’t available.”

  They stared at each other for a moment before her features softened as her fight waned. “Please, Cole,” she whispered. “Let this one go.”

  When she looked at him like that, she could ask him to move a mountain and he would. Damn. “Next time you want my opinion on something, just email me with your final decision so I don’t have to waste my time with a useless appointment.”

  Isn’t this exactly what his father had said would happen? Wedding detail distractions when he should be focusing solely on his magazine. He didn’t have enough time for both, damn it.

  He crossed the room to grab his jacket from the back of the chair where he’d thrown it earlier. He turned to leave without another word but was stopped in his tracks at the sight of the photographer snapping pictures and Tonya behind the register with her mouth hanging open.

  This was bad. They may not be in public, but they still had witnesses, watching and documenting their every move. He didn’t know if Tonya was in on their little secret or not, but the photographer definitely didn’t know, nor could he find out.