by Shayla Black
“It might be nice someday. No one has ever truly been romantic with me.”
“Not even Finn?”
“Especially not Finn. One of the reasons we didn’t work out was because we’d been friends for too long. It just felt…weird.”
“I get that. I’ve been there, too,” I admit. “So why did we get engaged?”
“Don’t most people get engaged because they’re in love?”
“Probably.” But I’ve seen tons of business and old-money marriages. “But maybe you’re saying ‘I do’ for the cash flow. I’m not a poor man.”
She recoils. “I don’t know how many zeros are in your bank account and I don’t care. If I only wanted money, I would have married Finn. In college, he and one of his buddies developed a dating app, then sold it three years later for a ridiculous amount of money. He’ll never have to work again. But I’ve always sworn that if I ever get married, it will be for love.”
“So we have to behave like we’re head over heels and be totally convincing.”
“Pretty much.”
“We’ll manage,” I promise. “You know, you’re an adorable contradiction. You claim you’re not sentimental, but you’re a romantic?”
“Not the same thing. I don’t cling to what was, especially if it’s not working. But I’m all about the things in your life having meaning, and marriage should be one of the deepest connections of all.” She pauses to gather her words. “I don’t expect it to make anything easier. But I would rather go through the hard times with someone I love than have a perfectly carefree life alone.”
Her words hit me like a two-ton weight. Isn’t that the life I’ve had? Effortless, silver-spoon, and utterly meaningless?
I sit back, stare, and turn that over mentally.
“What?” Skye blinks up at me.
It sounds both ridiculous and hokey to say that, with one sentence, she’s made me examine my life. But she kind of did.
“Nothing. We should get through some of these questions I Googled.” I grab my phone, momentarily glad I have something to get lost in besides her. “What do you like to do in your free time, besides surf?”
“Meditation and yoga, volunteer at the animal shelter, hang out with friends. You?”
“I don’t really have free time.” I’ve devoted my life to making money, and I’m fucking good at it. Not spending every day hustling is foreign to me. Even now, I’m supposed to be vacationing, but I feel restless and agitated. Off balance.
“Tell me about your friends.”
Besides Bethany, I have a lot of business acquaintances…and almost as many hookups. But people I actually care about. The ones I’d go out on a limb for? My ride-or-dies? Not really. Funny, I never realized that. Or did I, at least subconsciously? Maybe that’s why I’ve been trying to establish a relationship with Nia, despite our father’s threats and protests.
“I’ve been pretty focused on my career.”
She frowns at me. “You should work to live, not live to work.”
Not in the Lund household. “I didn’t get that memo.”
“Well, admitting the problem is the first step. And if you need a friend, I’m here.”
Would Skye really open her life and let me in, just like that? Sure, I’m helping her, but I had to convince her to let me. I’m pretty good at reading people, and she isn’t merely telling me what I want to hear. She won’t conveniently forget this conversation once Finn’s parents are off her back. She genuinely means it.
If we were in a bar and I was looking for an opening to proposition her, I’d use this moment as an opportunity. I’d take her hand, draw her closer, whisper things I knew she wanted to hear. She’s given me plenty of clues about how to win her over. But I don’t. Instead, I swallow against my suddenly tight throat and nod. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
I glance at the list on my phone again. “Introvert or extrovert?”
“Introvert. I’m not super shy, but I don’t like big crowds. And I definitely like alone time.”
“I relate. I’m an extroverted introvert. I can turn on in crowds. Public speaking is a breeze to me since I’ve learned to smile and be gregarious, but I’m always itching to get home and decompress. The whole thing exhausts me.”
She nods as if she totally understands. “What else?”
“Morning person or night owl?”
“Neither. I flow with the natural rhythm of my body.” She hesitates, eyes narrowed. “You’re a morning person, aren’t you?”
“I’m usually in the gym by five a.m., out by six-thirty, and at my first meeting before eight. Most often I get to bed around midnight.”
“That’s not enough sleep. Do you catch up on weekends?”
“No. My schedule is the same seven days a week. I don’t have an eight-to-five job.”
Her frown becomes a scowl. “So those continents you’ve visited…all for business?”
“Yes. This is the first vacation I’ve taken since I went to work for my dad.”
Skye looks stunned—and not in a good way. “We’re definitely going to make sure you enjoy it.”
For as long as I’m here scouting the property? Until I figure out what to do about the craptastic problems in my life? “Great. Do you have any odd talents?”
“Not really. I haven’t met a craft I didn’t like. I can quilt, stitch, make pottery, create stained glass, garden…”
Nice. If my mom wanted anything like that done, she hired it out. She was way too busy climbing the social ladder to bother getting her hands dirty. “Now I feel really untalented. Unless you call smooth-talking corporate executives and third-world leaders a special ability, I’ve got nothing.”
“Seriously? You must have played sports in high school.”
“I swam and ran track, played a little baseball. Mostly, I whizzed through schoolwork so I could spend my evenings learning my dad’s business from the ground up.”
She hesitates. “Would leaving it behind be like walking away from everything you’ve ever known?”
More like losing an arm or a leg. “Yeah.”
“So…it’s not an easy decision.”
“No.” I’ve also avoided thinking about it because I can’t picture a life outside of New York. I’ve traveled the world, but I’ve always considered the city home.
“Are you really sure you want to mess with my ridiculous problem?”
“If I don’t, will Finn’s mom keep hounding you?”
She sighs. “Probably. He and I both thought she would let it go after his engagement. Instead she’s gotten more insistent. I worry that even after he and Dana have said their I-do’s, if I don’t look attached she’ll try to convince me to wait for his marriage to fail. I feel bad for Finn. He just wants to be happy.”
“So you think having a fiancé will finally convince her to back off?”
“I hope. In her head, I’m all alone, and Finn is only marrying Dana because he’s a stubborn dumb ass. But if she sees I’ve moved on, too, I have to think she’ll give up.”
“Tell me one thing that will really convince her you’re no longer interested in Finn.”
Skye pauses. “I haven’t thought about it like that… Probably behaving unlike the way I did with Finn.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was always encouraging us to kiss and hold hands. She would give us romantic weekends away. Once, when I made an offhanded mention that my period was late, she asked me—gleefully—if there was any chance I was pregnant. I didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”
No chance at all? “Not to be too personal, but did you ever have sex with Finn?”
“No. Maybe he might have tried harder if I had been more receptive. But mostly I think we both felt pushed into the relationship.”
“So you and I have to act like we can’t keep our hands off each other?”
“Probably.” She winces. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“It’s not a problem.” At all. I reach for her ha
nd—and frown when Skye jolts. “But if we’re going to convince anyone, especially people who have known you for years, that we’re getting married because we’re desperately in love, you can’t jump when I touch you. We have to leave them thinking that we barely managed to roll out of bed for the wedding and that we’ll probably roll right back in as soon as we’re alone.”
“You’re right. It’s just, um…been a while since anyone kissed me. I don’t count Finn.”
“How long?”
She pauses. “Two years and some change.”
Whoa. Skye deserves to be kissed well and often by someone desperate to make love to that pillowy pink mouth with abandon. Hell, yeah, I’ll volunteer. And if it’s been that long since anyone has kissed her, how long since someone has taken her to bed and pleasured her? I don’t ask—but I’m really fucking curious. “I did not see that coming.”
“Embarrassing, right?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You’re being nice.” She slides off the stool and onto her feet, shaking slightly. “So you think we should wing the whole PDA thing…or maybe practice a little?”
“Definitely practice.” I can’t help but grin. “A lot.”
Skye bites her soft lip. “You’re probably right.”
I am. And that makes her very nervous.
“No maybe about it.” I flash what I hope is a reassuring smile, not one that divulges the fact that I woke up with an aching cock and her on my mind.
“Okay, how should we—”
I stop her awkward, breathless question by kicking away from my stool. The legs drag across the tile as I stand. That’s the only sound in the room besides the distant crash of surf and her suddenly rapid breathing.
“Come here.” I crook my finger.
She blinks, then slowly shuffles toward me. The moment she’s close enough, I circle an arm around her waist, wrap my hand around her nape, and pull her flush against me.
Her shocked little gasp sends a thrill zipping through me. We’re nearly nose to nose. My mouth hovers a breath above hers. And I don’t give her time to get nervous or second-guess herself. Nope. I dip my head and seize her lips.
The moment our mouths meet, an electric sizzle jolts through my veins—hot, pervasive, shocking. Sure, I usually enjoy kissing, but this… It’s more. It’s beyond. I don’t bother letting her get used to me or learning her slowly. I can’t seem to downshift or back off. I want this too much.
Between one heartbeat and the next, the desire I’ve restrained since she walked in the door with a cup of coffee and a nervous smile comes off its leash. I barge deep into her mouth, reveling as she curls her arms around my neck, slides her tongue along mine, and whimpers. I don’t stop kissing her until she melts. Until she rubs against me. Until I own that mouth.
Jesus, I didn’t expect to lose my fucking head, especially this fast…
Desperately sucking in air, I dig my fingers into her soft flesh, grinding my lips—and my cock—against her. I suck in her sweetness, inhaling her hint-of-coconut scent, hearing the little catches at the back of her throat, while staring at her closed eyes and rapt face. She consumes all my senses. I’m attuned to her. Only her. Always her? The way I feel now, I can’t imagine getting enough of Skye. The lust she incites pounds me like a hurricane. I’ve never experienced anything quite like this. So, yeah, I’m going to need more.
How soon can I get her into bed?
Suddenly, Skye wrenches away, breathing heavily, and stares at me with the kind of gaping daze that says she’s every bit as mowed down by our insane chemistry as I am. “I don’t think we’re going to have trouble convincing anyone we can’t keep our hands off each other.”
I just smile. “No, honey, we’re not.”
CHAPTER TWO
By Saturday evening, a couple of things have become exceedingly clear. First, Skye and I won’t have trouble convincing anyone that I can’t keep my hands off her because it’s true. We’ve “practiced” our PDA almost nonstop for the last two days—until I’m sweating, hard, and mindless with hunger. I want Skye so fucking bad, but her body language says that, regardless of how much she’s into me or how totally I arouse her, something holds her back from giving in.
Does she, deep down, have feelings for Finn?
Second, we know our cover story backward and forward. Thanks to two solid days of storms, she couldn’t teach me to surf. Instead, we spent the time together, perfecting our act. We’ve even covered new ground—first jobs, first loves, schooling, dating, childhood pets, habits… We’re prepared.
I pace the vacation rental, glad that I brought a suit, just in case. As I straighten my navy tie for the tenth time in as many minutes, she knocks and opens the front door. I turn to her—and stop in my tracks.
Skye takes my breath away.
Her hair is piled on top of her head in a ’do that’s part braid and part bun with loose tendrils brushing her temples and nape. It’s carefully arranged yet casual, a lot like her dress, which is a cheerful peach shade. A ruffle accents the front where she’s loosened the top two buttons to reveal that lush cleavage I’m still dying to get my hands—and mouth—on. It gathers at the waist with a simple bow, emphasizing how tiny she is. To say the skirt ends at mid-thigh would be generous. The woman has great legs. No surprise she likes to show them off. Even if she doesn’t belong to me, I wish she wasn’t planning to flash them to a few dozen ogling bastards at this shindig.
“Wow. Are you trying to make Finn jealous?”
“He’ll notice I brought you way before he notices how I look,” she drawls as she scans me up and down. “But maybe you’re hoping Dana will notice you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“You’re a force to be reckoned with in that suit.” She looks like she wants to touch me.
But she doesn’t.
I hold out my hand. When she takes it, I’m gratified to see my ring on her finger, even if it’s fake.
You need to slow your roll, man. Do you remember the meaning of the word pretend?
“Skye, we’re supposed to be an engaged couple tonight. You can touch me any time.”
“Yeah, the you in shorts and T-shirts. This you?” She gestures to my suit and bites her lip. “I wish we could go someplace else—just the two of us—and skip the wedding.”
I totally wish that, too. “What if we did?”
Besides a night of mind-bending, blow-the-doors-off sex?
“Nothing would ever change for Dana and Finn. Plus, Sherry, his mother, would never forgive me. My own probably wouldn’t, either.”
I hold in a sigh of regret and lace our fingers together. “Then let’s do this.”
She presses a hand to her stomach. “I’ll be a lot less nervous once tonight is over.”
With a nod, I lead her outside and help her into my rental car. But the truth is, I’m reluctant for tomorrow. My business contact, David Chang, called while I was in the shower to inquire about the information I’ve gathered on the property. I’ve walked the beaches and explored the property lines. I’ve researched the zoning, infrastructure, and roads. This place would be great for development. A brand new, very private gem. Absolutely lucrative.
It sounds perfect…except Skye lives in the little unit up the hill. And she’s worked here her whole adult life. There’s a chance I’ll be stripping both away by returning one call.
Then again, I have no idea if she’s truly attached to this place. And Mr. Chang has only expressed interest. If I tell him this place is something he could develop, that doesn’t mean he actually will. Even if he did, that could be years away. Still, I can’t breathe a word of this to Skye. I’d be betraying the confidence of a valued client.
That’s the truth…but I feel kind of guilty. And I don’t like it. Personal relationships should never get in the way of business, especially since my profit from this deal could be north of five million dollars. Besides, everything between Skye and me is supposed to be fake, right? Yes, it feel
s awfully fucking real right now, but unless something changes between us I probably won’t see her except in a professional capacity after this wedding.
And if tonight is the last chance I’ll have to hold her, I intend to make the most of it.
The ride to the chapel is blessedly short. By mutual agreement, we arrive with ten minutes to spare, giving Finn’s parents almost no time to do anything but give us a once-over from the front pew as an usher leads us to our seats.
Skye grips my hand tightly.
“Honey?”
“I’m fine.”
As we sit, I lean close and drop my voice so no one else can hear. “Having second thoughts?”
“No.” She tries to smile. “Not at all. Thank you for doing this, by the way.”
I send her a grin to lighten the mood. “You can thank me with another sixty minutes on the massage table.” I also wouldn’t turn down a night in my bed.
She laughs, something light and real. Heads turn. Finn’s mother glances over her shoulder at us again.
I lift Skye’s hand to my mouth for a kiss, then turn it so she can see the sparkling engagement ring. “She’s watching.”
“I know.”
“So let’s play our parts. Come here.” I tip a finger under Skye’s chin.
Easily, naturally, she leans in and lays her plump pink lips over mine for a lingering second. I feel her trembling. When I cup her jaw, she seems to steady.
“We’ve got this,” I promise her as I pull back, squeezing her shoulder.
She smiles and nods, then four men file in at the front of the chapel, positioning themselves near the altar.
“I’m guessing the guy in the black tux is Finn?”
The others are wearing gray.
“Yeah.”
He’s not what I expected. Medium height, medium build, medium brown hair. He looks perfectly…average. And completely fucking rattled.
When I catch him looking our way, I slide an arm around Skye’s shoulders and pull her closer, acknowledging him with a lift of my chin.
He returns the gesture, then rubs his hands together, looking anxiously down the empty aisle. A string quartet plays soft music. His best man pats him on the back.
