The Fine Art of Faking It: A Small Town Love Story (Blue Moon Book 6)

by Lucy Score

  “I feel like I’m on an episode of MTV Cribs,” Eden said with an eye roll.

  Davis ignored her. “This is where the pressed, fermented juice is stored. We call it new wine. The sediment sinks to the bottom, we pump the wine into a new tank, and repeat the process. This is what makes the wine clean and smooth.”

  “How long does that take?” Eden asked studying the tanks.

  “About two months.”

  Davis flexed his teaching muscles and explained the process as he led her into the next room where hundreds of oak barrels were stored and then into the bottling area. The dogs tagged along.

  “I’m amazed at how much of the process is automated,” Eden said as Davis smoothly escorted her past the sun-filled tasting room where a handful of guests were bellied up to the bar being charmed by staff.

  “We try to honor tradition while embracing innovation,” Davis told her, leading her up the stairs to his office.

  “That sounds like a line of bullshit.”

  He laughed. “That’s my father for you.” He pushed open the door, waved her inside.

  The dogs shoved their way past her. Chewy settled down immediately in his plaid dog bed under the window. Vader sat on top of him. “Guess I’d better get another bed,” Davis observed.

  Eden looked at her dogs in a pile and swallowed hard. “You don’t have to do that.” She was guarded again. He caught the direction of her gaze, and it wasn’t at him. It was at the three Blue Moon Business of the Year awards displayed on the shelf behind him.

  “A good boyfriend would be accommodating,” he reminded her, drawing her attention back to him. “Now, tell me what you think of these,” he said opening a document on his computer.

  She made a move to lean over his shoulder, but he tugged her into his lap instead.

  “Davis. We don’t have to be like this alone.” He heard the warring notes of panic and passion in her voice and didn’t feel the least bit bad for purposely pushing her buttons.

  “Consider it practice for when we’re out in public.” He rubbed a hand down her back, letting his fingers brush the strip of skin that appeared between the waistband of her pants and the hem of her soft sweater.

  “You wouldn’t be taking advantage of the situation, would you, Gates?” Eden asked.

  “Heaven forbid. I’m just dedicated to selling it.” He danced his fingers up her spine, under the sweater, and felt the prickle of goosebumps on her silky skin. “Now, tell me your thoughts on these label designs.”

  He opened the file from the design firm and turned over control of the mouse to her, never ceasing his gentle caresses.

  She clicked through the designs one at a time, pausing to compare two side-by-side. Her ramrod straight back started to relax against him, and he relished the surrender.

  “This one,” she said, finally pointing at the screen. “It’s slick and whimsical. Kind of like your winery, bringing class to our little hippie, backwoods town.”

  She’d chosen the one he’d been drawn to, the one his father had nixed for being too “fun.”

  He lifted her hair from her neck and placed a soft kiss at her nape. Davis delighted at the full body shiver that skated up her spine.

  “I don’t think you need that much practice,” Eden said dryly, once again tense in his lap.

  “Mmm. But I like touching you,” he confessed.

  She took a shaky breath and shifted in his lap to face him. “Davis,” she said, warningly.

  “Don’t you trust yourself, Eden?” He pressed his fingertips to her neck, rubbing in slow, lazy circles.

  “Look. Last night was… great. Really great. But I don’t want to complicate things.”

  “Who’s complicating anything?” Davis asked, skating his teeth over her neck.

  “Holy—Gah! Davis!” She was sprawled across his lap, one hand simultaneously holding on tight and pushing away. One breast was pressed into his chest, and his knee had parted hers from below. Exactly where he wanted her.

  She watched in what looked like fascination as he ran his free hand over her knee and up her thigh. Back and forth, each time rising higher, growing bolder. He gripped her waist with his other hand, just under the curve of the breast he’d worshipped last night.

  It had been mere hours, yet it felt like a lifetime again.

  “Do you like it when I touch you, Eden?” he asked.

  She stared at the track of his hand as if it were mesmerizing.

  He was hard as marble, his cock fighting against the confines of his slacks as if they were a prison. But he didn’t attempt to go any further.

  “Fluke. Fluke. Fluke.” Davis heard Eden chanting under her breath.

  “Do you regret last night?” he asked her.

  She shook her head hard. “No! I mean, no,” she said with more calm. “It’s not that. I just think it’s not a good idea for a repeat performance. It’ll… complicate things.”

  His fingers skated higher up her thigh within an inch of where he wanted to be. “I see,” he said, teasing her with his mouth at her ear. “And you want uncomplicated.”

  She nodded without speaking.

  “Then we’ll keep things uncomplicated,” he agreed amiably. He stalled the motion of his hand. He felt her tense against him, coiling tight.

  She opened her eyes, lashes fluttering.

  “Damn it, Gates,” she breathed.

  He would win. It was his last coherent thought before Eden kissed him. Her mouth was hot and demanding under his. She cupped his face in her hands, and he slid her higher in his lap so she could feel how hard and ready she’d made him.

  “Still a fluke,” she murmured against his lips. He would have agreed, would have placated, but she used the opening to sweep her tongue inside his mouth and kiss him until he forgot his own name. He slid his hands under her ass and rose, dropping her on his desk. She yelped and pulled the keyboard out from under her.

  “Kiss me like that again,” he demanded.

  For once obliging, Eden gripped his tie and dragged him down to her. He felt her fingers in his hair, the heat from her center against his erection when he rocked his hips into her. He shoved his hands under her sweater, all finesse abandoning his fine motor skills in favor of speed and need.

  “Yes,” she hissed when his hands coasted over the satin cups of her bra. Her nipples budded against the fabric.

  He didn’t have a condom here. Why would he? But he was willing to get creative if it meant he could have Eden right here like this.

  “Hey, boss, I’ve got—holy shit.” Anastasia busted into the office and immediately spun back around to leave. “Sorry! Ohmygod. Sorry. Shit.”

  Vader sprang to attention and got tangled up in Anastasia’s legs as they both tried to bolt for the door.

  Eden jumped off the desk as if she’d been electrocuted. “I should go,” she announced in a near shout.

  “No! I’ll go,” Anastasia insisted, stepping over Vader only to run into Chewy who’d decided to rouse himself and join the fun.

  “No, you two have work to do,” Eden said, wedging herself in the doorway with Anastasia and the dogs.

  Davis sat back and watched with anguish and amusement. If a very intimate moment had to be interrupted, at least he could enjoy how much it rattled Eden.

  “Um.” Eden stepped over Vader, getting one leg into the hallway. “I’ll see you tonight?” she asked, her blue eyes zeroing in on his face.

  Davis nodded. “Tonight.”

  “Okay. Good. I’ll, uh, take the dogs. And give you some space. Oh, and thanks again for the flowers.”

  Still blushing, she hauled the dogs out by their collars.

  Anastasia still wasn’t making eye contact with him. She stared up at his diploma framed neatly on the wall. “You tell your parents anything yet?” she asked.

  “Nope.” He’d cross that burning bridge only when he had to and not one minute sooner.

  31

  She changed for the third time and felt like a comple
te idiot. Especially knowing that Davis was one wall away and probably just wearing what he’d worn to work today. She’d made it exceptionally clear that there were no real feelings between them, she decided, tugging at the hem of her ivory sweater. And then she’d kissed the ever-living hell out of him.

  Mixed messages. Just like her outfit. On the exterior, it was a nice boatneck sweater with skinny jeans. Underneath, she’d sprung for purple lace with interestingly placed cutouts. Not that she was expecting another fluke.

  “Nope. Not happening again.”

  Her subconscious wondered why she’d bothered shaving her legs if that were the case. She shut it up with a sip of the wine she’d poured. Davis’s wine that she’d snagged from the helpful hostess in the tasting room on her walk of shame from his office.

  It had been a long, busy day, made only longer by her excitement over tonight. It was a town meeting and ice cream. Nothing special. Except for seeing Davis again.

  “I’m just excited about teaching the B.C. a lesson,” she insisted to her reflection.

  Her reflection wasn’t buying it any more than her head was. Eden stuck her tongue out at herself and went digging through her jewelry box for earrings. Simple hoops. Nothing too sexy. She went with her favorite pair of over-the-knee boots. Not because they were sexy as hell but because they’d keep her legs warm in the winter chill.

  She reviewed her efforts one last time, making sure to ignore the excitement she saw dancing in her eyes.

  “Not a real date. Not a real date. No more flukes.”

  She chanted it to herself as she shoved her arms into her pretty gray cape coat. “You’re in charge,” she reminded herself as she closed the door behind her.

  “You certainly are,” Davis agreed behind her. She jumped rapping her elbow on the door and yelping. “Ouch! I was just, um… hi.”

  “Hi, yourself,” he said, giving her an admiring look. He looked too good for ice cream. A black wool coat hung open over designer jeans and a black sweater and white Oxford. He looked preppy and delicious.

  “When did you stop dressing like a hippie?” Eden blurted out as his hand settled at her waist and he leaned in for a soft kiss on her cheek. The change in him when he’d come home from the West Coast had been profound, at least on the surface.

  “Right around the time when I realized no one would want to buy wine from or go out on a date with a guy in a handknit poncho,” Davis quipped. He slid her hand into his and led the way to the lobby.

  “Goodnight, Sunny,” Eden called.

  The pretty blonde was rolling silverware into napkins at the front desk and singing along to a pop song playing on her phone.

  “Night, you two! Have fun,” she winked flirtatiously.

  “Seriously,” Eden said when they were buckled into her car, Davis behind the wheel.

  “I’m being serious. I left Blue Moon at eighteen and landed in a different world. Sure, there were hippies out there. I spent some memorable weekends in Berkeley. But for the most part I was skulking around wineries and learning the business. People aren’t as forgiving of shaggy hair and rumpled clothes in that arena. And once I put on my first suit, it just felt good. I felt like I could be taken seriously,” he admitted.

  “Did you lose any other pieces of Blue Moon out there?” Eden asked, curious about the years he’d been missing from her life.

  She’d sped through a degree in hospitality management all the while begging Aunt Nell to turn over the keys to the old monstrosity of a mansion she left vacant for six months every year when she traveled.

  “A few. But I missed this place.”

  “You didn’t visit,” Eden pointed out, realizing too late that meant she’d noticed his absence.

  He kept his eyes on the dark road ahead. “My parents felt it was best if I stayed in California and soaked up as much of the business as I could. I got winery jobs every summer and landed an internship and then a job with a vineyard in Napa.”

  “Your parents,” Eden said, keying into his mention. “We’re polar opposites there. I spent my entire high school and college career trying to tear myself away from my parents. It seems like you’ve spent your life being the good son.”

  Davis steered the car toward town, his hand reaching down to take hers. She didn’t pull away even though part of her was shouting “fake relationship” loud enough to make her ears ring.

  “My dad’s heart attack has a lot to do with compliance. He had two actually,” Davis said.

  Eden shot him a glance. “I didn’t know that.”

  “The first was when I was young. Four or so? I just remember him being very sick and my mother insisting that we not do anything that would upset him. He’s always been tightly wound. It just became my job to keep him from exploding.”

  Eden bit her lip and considered. She’d had the freedom to be a rebel, even at times an asshole. Maybe Davis had grown up so “good” because he’d had to. “Give him what he wants to keep him happy?” she asked.

  “Sounds like bad parenting advice for a tantrum-throwing toddler,” Davis joked.

  “If you spend all your time making your dad happy, when do you get what you want?”

  “Who says I don’t already have it?” he asked. He slid the car into a space on the opposite end of the town square from the movie theater. McCafferty’s Farm Supply loomed in front of them. Despite the weather, Blue Moon’s downtown was bustling. People wrapped in handknit rainbow scarves and brightly colored winter coats browsed store windows and warmed themselves inside the town’s many shops.

  “I am sorry about your father.” She squeezed his fingers a little tighter. “I know I’m a Moody and I’m supposed to celebrate Gates’ traumas. But I’m still sorry. And for what it’s worth. I kind of liked the ponchos. Hippie Davis was pretty cute.”

  He gave her one of those underwear singing smiles. “Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll dig one out later?”

  They laughed together and Eden marveled at the easy intimacy.

  “Coffee, meeting, then ice cream?” Davis suggested.

  She approved his priorities. “Perfect.” He reclaimed her hand on the sidewalk, and together they weaved in and out of couples and families braving the chill.

  They looped around One Love Park, heading in the direction of Overly Caffeinated when Eden came to a sudden stop.

  “Get your hot apple cider!” Ellery called to the foot traffic in the park from a makeshift stand under a banner that said Support Your Local Beautification Committee. She wore a glossy black vinyl coat, black jeans, and a mile-long black and gray scarf. Her husband, Mason, was dressed like a regular person in a heavy winter coat and a ski cap. He took his mittens off every time he needed to count out change.

  “What the hell is this?” Davis whispered to Eden.

  “I think we’re looking at the Beautification Committee’s fundraiser for your fire damage.”

  “So, if I bought a cup of apple cider, I’d be funding my own fundraiser?”

  He looked disappointed, and Eden laughed. “Are you really that big of an apple cider fan?”

  “Well, yeah. But I’m not giving those pyromaniacs a dime.”

  “Hot apple cider for a good cause!” Ellery screeched, scaring Mason into dropping a roll of quarters.

  Eden pulled him toward the stand. “The least a girlfriend can do is buy her boyfriend a cup of apple cider on a cold night.”

  “I’m not having you pay for my fire damage,” Davis argued.

  “Don’t be a baby,” Eden said lightly before stepping to the front of the line. “Ellery, Mason, what brings you two out on a night like this?” Davis let out a sound that was eerily similar to a growl, and she elbowed him.

  “Oh, hi, guys,” Ellery said, eyes wide and guilty. “We’re just doing some… fundraising.”

  “Tell us more about this good cause,” Davis demanded. Eden stepped on his foot, and he winced.

  “What good cause?” Ellery asked, batting her spider-like lashes.

  �
��The one on your sign,” Eden said, pointing at the poster behind Mason.

  For a Good Cause

  “Oh, that good cause,” Ellery laughed nervously. “We’re uh, um. Raising funds for… you… and neighbors like you,” she added quickly. “To make our community… better.”

  “Interesting,” Eden said. “Isn’t that interesting, Davis?” she asked.

  He still looked mad enough to say something stupid that could ruin their entire plan. Eden ducked under his arm and cuddled into his side. “How much for a cup?” Eden asked.

  “Oh, um.” Ellery blinked. “Five dollars?”

  32

  “I can’t believe you gave those arson-causing bastards five bucks,” Davis complained.

  Eden was still laughing as he held the door to the movie theater for her. “It was worth it just to see the look on your face.” She swiped at the corners of her eyes, clearly enjoying herself. “I can throw the cider away if you want me to,” she offered.

  He clutched the paper cup protectively. “No use letting it go to waste.”

  Town meetings were one of the things he’d missed the most when he’d moved away. The smell of the movie theater popcorn, the press of bodies dressed in bib overalls and decades-old tie-dye. It had all seemed normal to him growing up, debating socially acceptable behavioral standards that would never be up for public discussions anywhere else in the country.

  Moving to California for school and then work had given Davis some much needed distance. And with that distance came an even deeper appreciation for his hometown. Romantic, fading frescos decorated the ceiling held up by painted pillars. There was a podium, flanked by folding chairs on the skinny strip of stage in front of the heavy velvet curtain.

  After a quick stop at the concession stand, he guided Eden to the right-hand side of the stage. “The acoustics are better over here,” he told her.

  She shot him a funny look that turned to pure lust after he handed her a snack pack of chocolate coconut granola, her favorite in high school. They settled into the third and fourth seats from the aisle, just out of the draft of the overhead vent. He knew this theater, knew this town inside out. He’d been more than ready to come home before his father’s heart attack gave him the reason.