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Fake Dating the Unsuspecting Heiress

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by Dallen, Maggie




  Fake Dating the Unsuspecting Heiress

  Maggie Dallen

  Copyright © 2019 by Maggie Dallen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Images © Shutterstock – Roman Samborskyi & Luis Molinero

  Cover Design © Designed with Grace

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Dating Prince Charming

  About the Author

  1

  Going to the post office should not be this big a deal.

  Addison Reginald’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel of her parked rental car, peering out the passenger side window to the sidewalk in front of the post office.

  It was open, there was no doubt about it. The tiny town of Cyrano, Wyoming, might not have a crowded Main Street, but Addison would definitely call it bustling. Well, at least…it wasn’t deserted. Nine o’clock on a Tuesday morning and at least a handful of people had just passed by her car.

  No, not people. Strangers.

  Her knuckles turned a shade whiter as she stared at them. Release the steering wheel, Addison. She took a deep breath and tried to obey her mental command.

  Her fingers had other ideas.

  Let go!

  One by one she uncurled her fingers as she exhaled. She was being ridiculous. It was just a post office. She’d gone to several in her lifetime, often by herself. This was not something to be anxious about. It was just that ever since she’d arrived in town the day before, she’d been overwhelmed by the newness of it all.

  But that was the point, right? She was twenty-five, after all. She was an adult, fully capable of standing on her own two feet. Sure, this might have been her first time away from home on her own, but this was what she wanted.

  Her phone lit up with a text on the passenger seat. It was her dad. Again. Just remember, sweetheart, you can always come home.

  She frowned at the screen. Sometimes she could have sworn her father was psychic.

  Or maybe he just knew her.

  That thought had her scooping up the letters she needed to send and snagging her purse, irritation overriding anxiety—although she couldn’t say whether she was angrier with herself for being anxious over a stupid trip to the post office or with her father who expected her to fail at this newfound step toward independence.

  She went to reach for the car’s door handle but dropped her hand with a sigh. She’d better reply to him right away or there was a good chance he’d go all overprotective papa bear and sic the local police on her. Worse, he’d get one of his security goons to track her down. As the CEO of one of the country’s largest tech companies, her father had the sort of power and influence, not to mention money that got things done.

  His only daughter lost track of time in the library? The entire college campus security team had been put on red alert. She was late for dinner because her car wouldn’t start? He’d sent a police escort. If she failed to check in on her first day on her own in a new town?

  He’d probably send out the National Guard.

  She wished that was an exaggeration, but she wasn’t entirely certain it was.

  It’s only a month, Dad. I’ll be fine. She hit send before this new, persistent guilt could stop her. Technically, she was only here for a month. Vanessa, Addison’s best friend from college, had invited her to stay at her place while she was out of town for work.

  More than anyone, Vanessa had been her biggest cheerleader when it came to striking out on her own. But then again, for Vanessa being independent seemed to come so easily. Her college bestie might own an apartment in the town where she’d been born and raised, but Addison was fairly certain her friend never actually used it. Not for any length of time, at least. She’d gone off to college in California and since graduating she’d either been living in New York City or traveling the world for work as a hotshot marketing executive.

  These past few years, Vanessa had been living the dream while Addison had been living…in her dad’s pool house. Granted, it was a really, really nice pool house, but it was still her father’s. And it came complete with his twenty-four hour security surveillance and his hovering paranoia every time she so much as coughed.

  Anyway, as far as her dad was concerned she was only here for a month. But if it were up to her—which is was, she reminded herself sternly—she’d be staying for much longer. Her plan was to look for a more permanent living arrangement while staying at Vanessa’s and focus her time and energy on the side gig she’d built up while still working for her father’s company. She’d given her notice months ago, and now she was free to pursue her passion full-time.

  She took a deep, shaky breath to keep from hyperventilating. Four weeks to make sure her part-time graphic design company could supply a full-time income so she could prove to herself and her dad that she didn’t need his help. Nope, she wasn’t panicking at all.

  But if she could make it happen, then the world was her oyster. She would be her own woman, not beholden to her father for money or security. If all went according to plan, she’d be sticking around this quaint little town for a lot longer than a month.

  Her gaze darted up and down the street, taking in the low, squat buildings that lined Main Street. It was exactly as Vanessa described. Cute, quaint…charming.

  Her father would hate the idea when she eventually told him. He’d become convinced that she couldn’t handle life on her own. He meant well, he truly did. It was just that she hadn’t had the most normal of childhoods, and making friends hadn’t come easily for her. There may have been some times in her life when she’d trusted the wrong people. Like her ex-boyfriend, for example.

  And her mother.

  But, just because she’d put her faith in the wrong people twice—okay, maybe a few times. Really, who was counting? That didn’t mean she couldn’t be trusted to be on her own.

  Taking a deep breath, she finally opened the car door, her purse and letters in her arms as she scurried around the back of the car and headed toward the post office. She’d just reached for the door when someone ran into her.

  Her envelopes and purse went flying, and she might have gone flying too if the man who’d hurtled into her hadn’t wrapped his arms around her to hold her upright. Instead of falling flat on the hard ground, she found herself pressed flat against a hard body.

  Shock had her gasping for air, and the rush of adrenaline from the collision made her shake.

  “I’m so sorry,” the guy holding her was saying.

  She was stunned stupid. Her gaze was fixed on the guy’s throat, which was at her eye level. Her senses were on overload as she registered the heady, masculine smell of soap and sweat, her body rapidly taking note of the feel of hard muscles…everywhere. She was surrounded by them. His chest? Hard. The arms that were still holding her tight? Hard. The thighs that were brushing against hers?

  Yup. Hard.

  She might as well have been cuddling up to a statue. Her breath c
aught in her throat. Cuddling. Why was she cuddling? She willed herself to move, but to no avail.

  He really did have a good grip.

  Instead she tilted her head back and found herself gazing into the bluest, most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. They were squinting down at her, flickering over her face as if to assess for damage. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth and nothing came out.

  No, no, no. Now was not the time to freak out and lose the ability to speak. “I’m fine.”

  It came out as little more than a squeak, but at least it was something.

  She pushed against the stone wall of his chest with her trapped forearms, and this time he let her go. Stumbling back a step, she finally got a full view of the man who’d tried to steamroll her, and…oh my.

  She clamped her mouth shut, saying a silent prayer that no drool had escaped. He looked way too good for a small town. He looked better than the models and actors back in Los Angeles. Tall and tanned, his eyes were still slightly crinkled up at the corners, but this time it wasn’t in concern, it was because he was smiling at her.

  The smile made little indentations next to his mouth—not quite dimples, but adorable nonetheless. They softened the look of a nose that had a tiny bump, as though it had been broken once or twice over the years. His mouth…oh dear.

  Do not look at his mouth.

  Too late.

  “I really am so sorry,” he said again, those bright blue eyes so full of regret, and so very focused on her.

  The weight of his stare had heat creeping up her neck. She knew what he was seeing, a mousy, short brunette with a messy ponytail and wire-rimmed glasses. A hottie she was not. She didn’t normally mind her average looks, but in the midst of this man’s overwhelming hotness, it took everything she had not to throw herself to her knees in a terrible Wayne’s World impersonation. We’re not worthy!

  His eyes took it all in—including the oversized cardigan that was way too heavy for this sunny June morning, but which had been necessary in the arctic air-conditioning of Vanessa’s apartment building. She could only hope the hem of her sundress was visible, otherwise she might have looked like she was naked underneath.

  That thought had her shifting uncomfortably, tugging at her dress. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Though why she was apologizing, she couldn’t say.

  He made no move to walk away. If he kept watching her like that her discomfort would explode into a full-blown, painful blush that would only make her that much more embarrassed. It was a vicious cycle, really. Attention led to furious blushing which led to even more attention and a level of shyness that was crippling in its agony.

  It was probably best for everyone if she just ran now.

  Ducking her head, she stooped down to pick up the scattered letters. Each was addressed to a different friend in a different country. Pen pals. Most people gave up on that in grade school, but Addison’s pen pal friendships were still going strong.

  One, two—she stopped mid-reach for the third letter because the handsome stranger had crouched down beside her and already nabbed it. He was holding it out to her with a smile.

  “Thank you,” she managed in a whisper as she snatched it from his grasp.

  He came to a stand. “It’s the least I can do.”

  His hand popped back into view right in front of her face again. He was just offering to help her up, but his proximity was intimidating enough—she wasn’t sure she could touch a hot guy and live to tell. Men who were too handsome were mildly terrifying to Addison. And this guy? He was way too handsome. Some part of her brain had already gone on red alert. Run away, it screamed.

  So she did.

  Or rather…she tried to.

  Instead, she found her path to the post office blocked by the hottie, who’d shifted slightly so he now stood between her and air-conditioned freedom.

  Her head was still tucked down so she was staring at their feet. Her sandals and his running sneakers. He was wearing mesh shorts and a navy T-shirt. He’d been running.

  He’d been running when he ran into her.

  He literally ran into her.

  She swallowed down a ridiculous, hysterical, panicky giggle. She thought about side-stepping around him but his hand entered her line of vision again. “Colton Parker,” he said.

  She lifted her head to meet his eyes as she slipped her hand into his for the second time. She might have been shy, but she wasn’t rude. “Addie—er, Addison—um—” Oh mercy, no one stumbled over their name this much. “Macks,” she finally managed.

  She and Vanessa had decided it might be best if she used her mother’s maiden name while she was staying in Cyrano. Reginald wasn’t an uncommon name, but if she was trying to start over, out from under her father’s shadow, there was no reason to announce the fact that she was his daughter.

  Still, this was the first time she’d had to introduce herself and she realized that perhaps she needed some practice.

  She tried to take her hand back but he held on. His large hand was rough with callouses and unbearably warm.

  It was hot outside, and this cardigan wasn’t helping. Was it obvious that she was sweating? She felt like it was obvious.

  “Nice to meet you,” she managed with a smile.

  “You too, Addison.” Something about the way he said her name made her even hotter. She was going to burst into flames if she didn’t get away from him.

  “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new to town?” he asked.

  She pulled her hand back and starting walking around him. “Yes.”

  “Maybe I could show you around sometime,” he said.

  She’d reached the door and realized he was right behind her. “Um, that’s okay. Thanks, though.”

  “Come on, it’s the least I can do.” His smile was…well, it was breathtaking. That squinty look he was giving her, like she was the only person on the planet. Like she was adorable and sexy and not at all wearing the frumpiest cardigan known to man.

  A smile like that could definitely take her breath away.

  It also sent her into a panic. Her hand flapped like a fish in the general direction of the door handle until her fingers touched the cold metal. “You don’t need to do anything, really. It’s no big deal.”

  “Let me get your number,” he said, but she already had the door open and was halfway inside.

  “No need,” she said, her smile widening as she tried to politely extricate herself from this bizarre situation. “It’s fine, really.”

  He took the door from her and pushed it open farther for her, which prompted her to lose her balance slightly so she stumbled into the post office with one last. “Thanks!”

  Why she was thanking him? She wasn’t sure. For making her lose her balance, she supposed.

  The woman behind the counter and the three customers in line had turned to watch her clumsy entry. Liquid fire spread up into her cheeks again as she muttered another unnecessary apology out of habit.

  When all eyes had moved to the front again, she let out a long exhale and risked a peek at the door.

  The hottie was gone. Colton, that was his name. Colton. She felt a smile tugging at her lips now that he was gone. There was a very good chance that Colton would be the new leading man in her more juvenile daydreams.

  It wasn’t like she still believed in white knights and happily ever afters, but she still held a soft spot for fairy tales. And that guy, with his bright blue eyes and almost-dimples? He looked like he’d walked right off the set of a Disney film.

  An elderly woman in front of her chuckled softly. “Honey, if Colton Parker ever hit on me like that, I’d be a big ball of flustered, too.”

  She let out a shocked laugh at the woman’s teasing. Her hair might have been white, and her skin wrinkled, but the older lady’s eyes danced with youthful mischief.

  “Oh, he wasn’t—” she automatically started to protest.

  But then she stopped, her mouth still hanging open as that
last awkward moment replayed itself in her memory.

  He’d asked for her number.

  He’d offered to show her around town.

  Her lungs expanded so quickly she thought her chest might burst with happiness. He had been hitting on her.

  And she’d been too nervous to notice.

  She grinned at the older lady who was still laughing at her, but not unkindly.

  Probably for the best that she hadn’t realized he was hitting on her. There was no way she would have handled that situation smoothly, and if she’d gotten any more flustered she might have made it even worse.

  She probably would have sprinted in the opposite direction.

  Still, she thought, clutching her envelopes to her chest with a silly grin. Colton Parker had hit on her. And she’d made a friend of sorts in line at the post office.

  All in all, she’d say her first day on her own was shaping up to be a success.

  2

  Colton muttered a curse under his breath as he headed in to work. That had not gone according to plan.

  “Hey, man, what’s up?”

  Colton waved to the other deputy who was just getting off duty, and slowed to a walk. He was early, but at least he had a gym bag here at the office so he could shower before clocking in.

  The air-conditioning hit him like a slap in the face as he entered the old building, which hadn’t seen a renovation or new furniture since the seventies.

  “Hi Colt.” Tina at the front desk said it in a sort of sing-song voice that made her sound like a grade schooler with a crush.

  Even though she was pushing eighty, Tina still flirted with all the young deputies the same way she probably had when she’d first started at this job—right around the same time they’d bought the furniture.

 

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