To See You Smile

by Brea Viragh

  “How delightfully quaint.” Maverick finished the wine in his glass, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Soon the server appeared carrying a second basket of freshly baked bread.

  Lorelei continued to yap about their relationship, smiling pleasantly at the both of them. Sawyer, on the other hand, gnashed his teeth through the dinner roll and nodded when appropriate. Nothing about the night was going the way he’d planned. The rehearsed picture in his head shattered at another round of laughter between his “wife” and his brother. She was supposed to fly under the radar, not monopolize Maverick’s attention.

  How was Sawyer supposed to steer the conversation around?

  There she was, looking more beautiful than he’d ever seen her before, even in the secondhand dress. He still didn’t understand why she’d been so uncomfortable earlier. As far as fake wives went, Sawyer had definitely scored a ten. Somehow, she didn’t see herself the same way tonight. How odd.

  “And your honeymoon?” Maverick continued to ask. “Tell me everything. I’m so curious about what Sawyer has been up to since the last time we spoke. I haven’t seen him since I was in town about six years ago on a spur-of-the-moment visit. This one couldn’t be bothered to come and visit me at the lodge. You can imagine how it must be, to come home only to learn he’s built a sturdy marriage for himself.”

  Sure, Maverick was curious. Trying to glean any nugget of information to make his denial of the investment easier. But he was an expert at it. He had an ear for gossip, and could sniff out skeletons in a closet better than a truffle pig. Surely he would find something to use against Sawyer in due time.

  “Oh, we had a lovely honeymoon in Ocracoke. We stayed at a cozy bed and breakfast with a room facing east. Kisses at sunrise. Surprise flowers. Walks on the beach every day…” Lorelei let her sentence trail, as if dwelling on the memories. “Sawyer would have given me anything I asked for.”

  “Delightful. I’m glad to know he doesn’t act like a fool when he’s around you. Maybe he’s learned to grow up a little.” Maverick’s smile took on a malicious glint and Sawyer knew what was coming. “His teen years were a horror. Utterly. He’s been a horror since the day he was born.”

  Lorelei laughed, sounding all too authentic. Looking all too authentic in her amusement. “Trust me, I can imagine. He’s no peach to live with now. You should hear what he says when he thinks no one is listening. He has an unfortunate habit of muttering under his breath. It’s never good.”

  “Enough about me. If we’re done with the third degree, I’d like to get back to the purpose of this dinner,” Sawyer said to bring the subject around again. “Before I lose my appetite.”

  “You need to lighten up. Loosen your belt a bit.” To punctuate his point, Maverick reached to slacken the knot of the violet-colored tie he wore. “You’re wound too tight. And this is coming from someone who used to work in New York City before moving to California. Being wound tight is a basic requirement to survive anywhere in the Big Apple.”

  It happened every time they got together: the condescending tone that put Sawyer’s stomach on edge and had his hackles rising. If he could come up with a way, any other way, to get the funds he needed to expand his reach and bolster his marketing campaign, he would have done so. The banks had closed ranks, and it was the senior Mr. Parksdale’s grand idea to involve both sons in what Sawyer had dreamed of doing alone. I’ll invest, his father had said, if you and Maverick can do this together. Well, Sawyer could not—would not—allow Maverick to dip those pristine fingers into this pie without a hefty chunk of upfront change.

  Thus he was forced to make nice in front of his older brother and pretend-wife. He’d fallen low, low, low.

  “Lorelei, my beautiful duchess of the morning, you’ve hardly touched your Bordeaux.” Sawyer made a show of topping off her glass. “Too busy dishing out dirt.”

  “Actually, I think I’ve had enough.” Her eyebrow rose when she pushed away the stemware in his direction and he decided to push it back. “I’m going to the little girls’ room, if no one minds.” A small kiss on the cheek as she rose added to the picture of their fake wedded bliss.

  The flutter in his chest was real. And unforeseen.

  Sawyer watched her walk away in the dress he knew she hated and wondered what in the hell she was thinking. Leaving him stranded in the middle of a conversational wasteland, with nothing and no one except—

  “I think she’s sweet,” Maverick commented unnecessarily. His eyes were glued to her backside as well. “I would have never pictured her for someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” Sawyer repeated stupidly.

  “Come on, now. We both know you hit the jackpot with her. I’m glad you decided to bring her along. She’s made this dinner decidedly less dull.”

  “You’re not going to accuse me of needing a security blanket? Telling me I didn’t have the balls to come here on my own?”

  Maverick’s gaze hardened. “If you think so little of me, then why did you invite me in the first place? I’m only here in town because you asked me to come, and you never ask for anything without good reason. Why do you think I made the trip, when I have a million other things to do on the other side of the country?”

  At once contrite, Sawyer continued, knotting his fingers on his lap. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “I’d like us to have a nice meal and be cordial with each other. For once in our lives.” Maverick made a show of flapping his napkin. “I want to sit here with you and your darling wife and chat as if we aren’t usually separated by a continent. Although we both know the status quo won’t change when we get up to leave.”

  “I know.”

  “Why don’t we start from the beginning?”

  Sawyer’s heart nearly stopped when his brother reached across the table, hand extended. He didn’t expect the peace offering. Not from Maverick. This was not a man who waltzed in without an ulterior motive. Asking for a truce? It was unheard of, with nothing to gain.

  A move designed to keep him on his toes, maybe? Unfortunately, there was no way Sawyer could say no without damaging his hopes for the future. He was being forced to play several roles that evening, wear several hats. Flexible brother was one of them.

  He pulled his hand from beneath the table and clasped their palms together. “Sawyer Parksdale, nice to meet you.”

  Maverick’s smile was like the Big Bad Wolf meeting his next meal when he squeezed. “Charmed.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lorelei let her head drop to the window on their drive back down the mountain. She’d left her car parked at Sawyer’s, needing him to navigate in case she got lost. Which was a distinct possibility. Another one of those things that went along with being a certified basket-case: a sense of direction that was never reliable.

  It wasn’t as if she went to places like The Point often. This was the first, and probably last, time she would grace the doors of the splendid Italian restaurant.

  “God, I’m so glad to be done with that,” she said.

  “You’re telling me. It was a fucking nightmare.” Sawyer ripped the tie from his neck and opened the window an inch. He sucked in a breath.

  “Watch your mouth. I’ve had enough of your curses to last me a lifetime, thank you very much. I’m ready to get home and be around normal people.”

  “I get it. Maverick and I aren’t normal.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I think I’ve met him before.”

  “Oh?”

  “Back in the day. I told you, I used to go out a lot, and I’ve never been good with names. His face, though…his face looks familiar.”

  “You may have seen him, but I’m sure you didn’t meet him,” Sawyer asserted. “If you’d met before, he would have been ragging on me all night about the connection. Trust me, if he didn’t say anything, then your memory is playing tricks on you.”

  Funny. She most definitely remembered one of her crazy nights out at the bar, right after college and before she had started
student teaching. It was one of the last great hurrahs of her twenties. Then she’d had to strap on an extra-large pair of big girl boots.

  It was a twenty-minute drive to Sawyer’s log cabin, along winding roads where they slowed nearly to a crawl for fear of deer jumping out of the bushes. Yes, definitely better that he drove instead of her. She always drove too fast, too hard. And that went for a lot of things in her life. Too many things. Things that could come back to bite her.

  “How do you think the night went?” Lorelei asked instead, trying to get out of her head and into the moment. Or maybe into Sawyer’s head. That was a scary proposition.

  “Well enough.” He barked out his response. Eyes focused on the double yellow lines. “I’m going to need you again in a few days. Be prepared.”

  The strangled sigh died in her throat. “For what?”

  “We discussed another dinner while you were in the bathroom. Kind of a family thing. Maverick is going to bring Daisy, the whole bit.”

  “The whole bit,” Lorelei repeated. “What day?”

  “Thursday.”

  “I have class until three and then I’ll have grading to do.”

  “Bring your paperwork with you,” Sawyer stated. His eyes narrowed. “I need you to get to the house at a reasonable time so we can start dinner. Maybe make some kind of pie. Go the extra mile.”

  “Wait…what? You mean we’re not meeting them out for dinner, we’re making dinner?”

  He didn’t even glance at her. “You can handle it.”

  “Ha.” Her laugh was as dry as stale crackers. “You’re pretty demanding.”

  “It’s all part of the agreement. I’m going to need you on my side for this.”

  “Wow, tonight must not have gone as well as I thought it did.”

  “Tease all you want. Just come, and be prepared.”

  “I’m going to be paying more for this wind chime than I thought,” she argued.

  “I told you to leave,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re the one who decided to stay.”

  “Maybe I’m not known for making good decisions.”

  “Apparently.”

  Her eyes rolled into her head with enough force she almost seized. Sawyer was the biggest pain in the ass she’d ever met. Not that he wasn’t good at what he did. He was. Insanely good. Unfortunately, his talent did little to take away from his consummate pain-in-the-ass-ness.

  They pulled into the driveway moments later. Lorelei let out a breath when he threw the car into park. “Am I allowed to go home now? Or is there anything else you want me to do? Darn your socks, scrub your toilets…?”

  “If you’re offering, then by all means.” He glanced over and smirked.

  She opened the door and stepped outside, the night breeze cool on her overheated skin. “I’m not,” she insisted with a huff.

  “Aw, come on. It will help you get ready for the role of the doting wife. I may have made you sound like a people-pleaser. I know it will take practice for you.”

  “Like I need preparation,” Lorelei said, a little more annoyed now than when the evening first started.

  Sawyer walked around the side of the car and closed the distance between them. It was natural for her to lean in the opposite direction. Especially when the glinting silver moon showed his eyes closing. His gaze dropping to her mouth.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

  “I thought of another aspect of our relationship you should practice.”

  It might have been the two glasses of wine from dinner. It might have been the moonlight and late summer air, like a spell had been cast. It might have been the seductive way Sawyer leaned in and slightly nibbled his bottom lip. Nibbled his bottom lip and looked askance when she burst out laughing.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said through the giggles. “You think I need practice kissing?”

  Sawyer shrugged in semi-agreement. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.”

  “I think you want to cop a feel.” Lorelei adjusted her bra beneath her dress and inched away.

  “What happens if Daisy or Maverick notice we aren’t being intimate with each other?”

  She snorted. “I highly doubt they’re going to ask about our sex life.”

  “No, I mean they might notice if we aren’t touchy-feely. Holding hands. Kissing. The works.”

  “I’ll do my part, Sawyer. You do yours. And keep your touchy-feely to yourself.”

  **

  Sawyer gripped the handlebars of his bicycle and focused on making it back up the steep driveway. The air seemed to vibrate around him, and moist heat pressed down over every available inch of skin. He kept up with the damn bike riding because people told him it was good for his heart and lungs. Yeah, right. With this kind of humidity, the exertion was sure to push him right over into a dead faint.

  Behind him, the sky darkened. With another half mile of driveway ahead, if the storm decided to break now, he was going to be in trouble. Static electricity had his hair standing on end and he pedaled faster, pushing his legs to their limit. Trees tossed their leaves in the air and limbs danced. It would be his luck to come back from getting the mail dripping wet. Caught in the middle of a shower. Better yet, it would be his luck to get electrocuted by a stray lightning bolt while holding the metal handlebars.

  He wasn’t expecting to see Lorelei on the porch, with her hip cocked to the side and a drink in her hand. It was like a scene out of a movie. A romantic comedy, where the man comes home after a hard day of work to see his sweetheart waiting. Only this wasn’t a movie or a fantasy. It was reality, and she wasn’t his sweetheart.

  She looked pissed.

  “I don’t know why you want to bike down a mile-long driveway. You should have gotten the mail when you pulled the car around,” Lorelei scolded as he brought the kickstand down. “I needed some help in the kitchen and you up and disappeared. Typical.”

  Pissed and holding a cool glass of something delicious.

  “Tell me that lemonade is for me.” Sawyer smacked the mail against his leg and leaned back to stare at her.

  She tilted her head up to the sky, giving a noncommittal shake of her head. “Maybe.”

  “I bike the driveway every day and I’m still out of breath. I need to get in shape. This is ridiculous.”

  He heard her mutter something under her breath, looking like she wanted to stalk off. “Why? You in the market for a wife or something? Trying to beef up, and fish the murky deeps of Heartwood?”

  “Because it’s good for my health, you harpy. How is the turkey coming along?” he asked when she handed the glass over.

  “Good. It’s the potatoes I need help with. I can’t seem to get the texture right.”

  “The texture of potatoes. Gotcha.”

  Damn. If a million years passed, he would have never thought to ask Lorelei Zasso if she had his dinner ready. Never thought to see her in his kitchen ten minutes later, stirring a pot of gravy the way her Nanny from Germany taught her. Asking him how it tasted, flavored with the meager spices from his supply. Never thought to catch himself staring at her shapely rear.

  Shapely everything.

  She took up way too much space. Not just in the kitchen, but in his life.

  Between her constant phone calls and nagging over the details of their arrangement and this dinner in particular, he hadn’t had time to create. The one thing that gave him pleasure, and she was deliberately stealing his attention away from it.

  Truth was he hadn’t been able to get his work done since their first night out. There had never been a problem before. Girlfriends in the past came and went without causing so much as a ripple. Sawyer had the ability to sit down with a chime and tune out the rest of the world. Now when he sat down, he smelled her. Some damned irritating smell of soap and perfume and whatever else Lorelei put on when she came over.

  He couldn’t be mad at her. She was helping him, after all, and going out of her way to make sure he was gratified with their progres
s.

  Sure, the calls were annoying, when she forgot something he’d said and needed to be reminded five minutes later. It was annoying when she popped over after her classes let out to bring some of her things. Personal touches, she called them. Little knickknacks and throw pillows and pitchers to make the house look less manly. Less messy.

  He tried to remind himself it was part and parcel with having a wife. Even a fake one. He wanted his ruse to feel authentic, didn’t he? Nothing less would fool his brother. Yeah, bourbon had not been his friend back then. If Sawyer had a time machine, he would rewind the clock and never allow himself to spout off those lies about his perfect wife. His perfect life.

  Noting good came from lying.

  Thankfully, their pretend play at house would be over in a few days. He was ready to have the cabin to himself again, even if Lorelei only commandeered those few hours when his brother came over and little more. Not to mention the times Sawyer had woken up from dreams with her presence lingering in his subconscious.

  “I’ll help with the potatoes in a bit,” he said. “You said the turkey was fine?”

  “The turkey, yeah.” Swiping the back of her hand across her forehead, Lorelei responded, “It’s got about another twenty minutes before it’s ready to come out. We want the skin to be nice and crispy.”

  Sawyer spared a second glance to the roiling clouds on the horizon. “Good. That gives us enough time to prepare before Maverick gets here. Looks like we’re in for another storm.”

  The increasing wind ruffled her hair, swirling the strands around her head in something that looked distressingly like a halo. Sawyer tried to stop staring at her, and when he found he couldn’t, turned his whole body in the opposite direction.

  “Tell me why you have such a hardwired need to impress your brother,” she demanded. “I never thought I would see you, of all people, curling on your back with your belly exposed.”