He studied her for a long time, thinking of the positives and negatives. Was this a smart thing to ask? He didn’t know. He just knew what he needed. “I need your help.”
“Sure. What do you need?”
“About ten thousand dollars.”
She hooted. “Hey, I like you, but not that much.”
“Please help me come up with some kind of fundraising idea, then make it happen during Paws for a Cause. I can’t do it without your help, and I have to raise the money so Jelly Bean can go to a special training course and be the Accelerant Detection Canine he was born to be.”
She squished up her face, confused but maybe a little intrigued. “Maybe if he wasn’t named after Easter candy?”
“He came with that name.” He stepped closer to make his plea. “I believe in that dog, Cassie. I’ve pinned all my hopes on him for a year, and I want him to succeed so much. I want to give him every chance. You’re an event coordinator. You’re already doing this for other people. I’m not asking for the moon, just some help on an idea and maybe the nuts and bolts to make it happen. I don’t expect to raise a million dollars, but any help I can get could be the answer to what Jelly Bean needs. I could give up on him, I could get another dog, but I don’t want to.”
He took a breath, damn near winded after the speech, and noticed that her attention was split between him and the house behind him.
“They’re still in the window watching us.”
“Cassie, please.”
She coughed a laugh. “Does she think I was born yesterday? That I don’t know this whole thing is a cover for what she really wants? Except I have no idea what that is, and I need to know. I have to know.”
He frowned and looked over his shoulder for a second, seeing the two old ladies in the front window, but still completely confused by what she was saying. “I don’t know about them, but I really need your help.”
“Okay.”
Did he hear that right? “Okay? Did you say okay?”
“Of course I said okay. Did you think I wouldn’t help you after that impassioned plea? But, Braden, you have to help me, too.”
“Anything.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Be careful. You don’t know what I’m going to ask or why I’m going to ask it.”
“I’m telling you, Jelly Bean’s training means everything to me. I’ve wanted the department to have this dog for so many years.” His whole life, really. “So name your price, Cassie. You need me to tell the world you’re doing this to help your business? Ask around if other people want your help? Or…or…” What else could he give her? What did she want? “I won’t tease you about being cousins. I’ll learn to dance that stupid Greek dance. I’ll—”
“Hey. It’s not stupid.”
Damn. Shut up, Mahoney. “The point is, whatever you want, I’ll do it, I promise.”
Her smile widened, but her attention was still on that window behind him. Then she lifted her hand slowly, as if reaching for him. “Take my hand.”
He did, closing her slender fingers in his much bigger hand. “And?”
“Now pull me closer. Not too fast. Kind of slow, like it’s the first time and you’re a little unsure.”
He tugged her hand, bringing her close enough that she had to look up at him, which she did, with the strangest, most enchanted look on her face.
“Now what?” he asked.
“A kiss. Quick. Light. Easy. Nothing like the other night. We don’t want Gramma Finnie to have a heart attack.”
“You want me to kiss you. On the lips. In front of our grandmothers.” Nothing about this made sense.
“Kiss me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. Lowering his head, he used his free hand to tilt her chin toward him and lightly brushed his lips over hers, which were as sweet and soft as he remembered. And he’d done a lot of remembering the past few days.
“Like that?” he asked, inching back.
She leaned to the right and peered at the window. “Son of a…they’re clapping. Yiayia is clapping.”
“Why?”
“That’s what I’d like to know. And I’m going to find out.” She took a slow, deep breath, slid her hands over his shoulders, and locked them behind his neck. “Braden Mahoney, will you be my boyfriend?”
“What?”
“Just for a little bit, just for pretend. Just until that woman comes clean and tells me what the heck she’s doing.”
“I couldn’t be more confused,” he admitted.
She smiled up at him like he’d just told her she was the most beautiful woman on earth. And, hell, right then, in his arms, with affection in her eyes, and her hair tumbling around her face? She was.
“I’ll help you raise your money, and you’ll help me dig out the truth. She won’t be able stand it if I’m really with you and—”
“Neither will I,” he muttered. He couldn’t fake liking Cassie. He could barely fake not liking her. He wasn’t a fake.
“Oh, no worries. I’m not here for long. We’ll have a clean, amicable breakup the minute my grandmother returns to normal. And in the meantime, we’ll get Jelly Bean the money he needs. Deal, cuz?”
Oh hell. He was probably going to regret this. No, he already regretted it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, but then we really can’t be cousins.”
She gave him a sly smile. “Kissing cousins.”
Now that part, he was going to like.
Chapter Six
He got it.
But then, did Cassie expect anything less from the man she called Einstein? She explained enough for him to flirt playfully while they moved the sofa, and then he seemed eager to finish up and head off to talk—alone. Well, with Jelly Bean, who still eyed her with distrust, avoided contact, and occasionally growled like she was clearly getting away with criminal behavior.
Gramma Finnie practically pushed them out the door, and Yiayia was right there encouraging them to spend lots of time planning the fundraiser together.
But now, as they sat down with iced coffees at one of Bitter Bark Brew’s outdoor tables, Cassie braced for a barrage of questions about her unorthodox plan. Why she thought it would work, or what she expected her grandmother to do, maybe why she suspected she was sick, as she’d mentioned to him.
“Are you really leaving Bitter Bark?”
Oh, she didn’t see that coming. Or the slight note of disappointment in his voice, but wasn’t that how she expected everyone to react when she finally shared her plans?
When she didn’t answer, he added, “You said, ‘I’m not here for long.’ Is that what you meant? You’re leaving Bitter Bark?”
“I’d like to, but, Braden, please. I haven’t told my mother or my brothers that I’m planning to move away.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’ll try to change my mind. My mother wasn’t thrilled years ago when I announced my plans to take a job in Boston. Nobody was happy with that idea except me.”
“So what happened?”
She looked down at her coffee. “My dad got cancer, and everything changed. Everything. I had to step in and help my brothers run the business, for one thing. But I couldn’t dream of leaving while he was sick. Then, after he died, my mom needed me more than ever.”
“I can tell you two are close.”
“She’s my best friend,” Cassie told him. “And she went through hell taking care of my dad. But now?” She lifted a shoulder and smiled. “She has a new best friend, and I am finally going to spread my wings and live in a city.”
He curled a lip, making it clear what he thought of city life. “Where are you going?”
“Wherever I can get a job in event planning, with the only criteria that the population has to be over…” She gave a casual glance that encompassed the whole small town that surrounded them. “This.”
“What’s wrong with this?”
“Nothing, but haven’t you ever wanted to leave?”
“I’ve left enough. I travel
ed and went to school, but…” He shrugged. “My family’s here, and my job. I love the weather and the Blue Ridge Mountains, and I love…” He looked down at Jelly Bean, who’d finally given up monitoring Cassie’s every word and now snoozed under the table. “My soon-to-be-trained dog who’s going to be the best arson investigator in western North Carolina.”
She smiled at that. “I can certainly appreciate the unique beauty of this place,” she said. “I grew up a little over an hour away from here. But I need to experience more. I want the vibrancy and hum of the city.”
“That’s called traffic.”
“The challenge of being in a job with people who are the best of the best.”
“Coworkers with big, fat egos? No, thanks.”
She brushed off the negativity. “I want to live in a high-rise that looks out over the city lights and wonder about all the stories and all the people.”
“You want to live in a box with a thousand other people sharing the same walls and laundry room?” He shook his head. “Cassie, if you want to be high above it all, get a house on a mountain, breathe clean air, and start your own business. Then you know you’ll be the best of the best.”
“Look, it’s just something I’ve always wanted. I’d like to experience big-city life and a big-city job.” But having him throw cold water on her dreams was not cutting it right now. “But frankly, I need to pump up my résumé so I can get that dream job in a big city. So let’s talk about your fundraiser and forget about my future, please.”
He studied her for a minute, thinking and making her wonder if he wasn’t quite ready for the change of subject. But then he asked, “How do we make ten thousand dollars?”
Finally. “Big number, but not impossible if we can come up with the right event and promote it and get people interested. If we cook up something creative enough to really bring the crowds, we can do it.” She opened her bag and grabbed one of three notebooks. “Let’s get to work.”
He looked down at the cover where she’d written Paws for a Cause in black Sharpie.
“Look, I feel a little dumb asking this, but what exactly is this whole Paws for a Cause thing?” He pushed his coffee to the side to lean on the table and get closer. “I know it goes on for the entire month of June, and it’s kind of a spinoff of the Puppy Parade we’ve had in the past, but how did it get to be a month long, and how exactly do people make money?”
“People don’t make money,” she explained. “Organizations and good causes do. But it’s really not a dumb question at all, since it’s new. Bitter Bark had a Puppy Parade when the town was in its Better Bark phase.”
He nodded. “Shane’s wife, Chloe, came to town to increase tourism and had that wild idea to rename Bitter Bark Better Bark for a year and turn the town into the most dog-friendly destination in America.”
“It worked.”
“In a big way,” he agreed. “The name’s back to Bitter Bark, but as you can see…” He gestured toward the other tables, several with dogs sleeping or sitting on their owner’s lap.
“Well, the Puppy Parade was a huge hit with tourists, who spent a ton of money at the booths,” she told him. “So the tourism committee decided to move the whole thing to a summer month and spread the wealth to every Bitter Bark organization, person, or nonprofit that wants to raise money for an approved cause. There’s an event or contest or party happening almost every single day, and each one is designed to bring in cash.”
“But not just for dogs?”
“Oh, no. Anybody can hold a fundraiser as long as the event includes dogs and the money goes to a worthy, altruistic cause.”
He nodded. “Equipping the fire department with an Accelerant Detection Canine and his handler is a very good cause. So, we won’t have any problem getting on the schedule, right?”
She flipped the notebook open to the calendar page, skimming the mostly-full dates. “We’re a little late. June is right around the corner, and I don’t think there are a lot of slots available, but I’ve made some friends in the mayor’s office. I think I can pull a few strings if we come up with a great idea. There are already a ton of really imaginative events planned.”
“Such as?”
She ran her finger over the squares that marked June and read the event names. “There’s a dog race, of course, the Five K-9, sponsored by the sheriff’s department. The hospital is doing America’s Got Tailent, which is…”
“A doggy talent show?” he guessed on a laugh.
“Yep, and they are charging big money for a spot in the show and admission.” She angled her notebook so he could see the calendar.
“What’s Artsy Animals? Don’t tell me dogs paint.”
“No, but that’s not a bad idea. It’s a craft show put on by the local Rotary, but all the items for sale are animal-related.” She pointed to June first. “Of course there’s the big kickoff event, Date with a Dog, with all the hot single firefighters and their dogs. Winners go to Yappy Hour, a black-tie cocktail party at Overlook Glen Vineyards the following night.”
He looked skyward. “I can’t imagine any of us will be pulling in big money.”
She gave his hand a playful tap. “I’ll bid for you, Einstein.”
“You will?”
“If Yiayia’s in the audience, sure, I’ll part with a Benjamin or two, especially since Jelly Bean comes as part of the package…” She reached down to pet his head, but he jerked away and gave a low snarl. “If he’ll let me.”
“I’ll tell him to let you.” He inched a little closer and let his gaze drop over her face, landing on her mouth. “It’s the only way I could get what I wanted.”
Which was help with an event, right? Or…his words from the other night at Bushrod’s came back to her. It was exactly what I wanted.
She swallowed hard. “Wait a second. You do realize I mean a fake relationship, right? Like, it doesn’t include all the side dishes that come with the full meal.”
His lips curled in a half smile. “So it’s an à la carte romance? Buffet-style? Pick what you want and leave the rest?”
She met him halfway across the tiny table, close enough to whisper her answer and put her hands over his to make her point. “There will be no more smoking-hot dance floor kisses.”
His brow flickered with a little humor. “It was smoking hot.”
Just the way he said it made her insides fire up again. “Exactly. Just let my grandmother think I’m falling for a non-Greek guy so I can get the truth out of her in a moment of weakness, when she’s chomping at the bit to talk me out of this relationship. Until then, we’ll just spend a lot of time together raising money and helping Jelly Bean, letting her think we’re dating.” She slid her hand out from under his, picking up a pen that was clipped to the side of the notebook. “Maybe we should write down those rules.”
“So, no sex.”
“Did you think a fake relationship included sex? Is that why you said yes?”
He didn’t answer for a long time, studying her with a look that said he most certainly did—or at least wanted to. “I said yes because you said yes to helping me. Now, I’m just trying to make sure I know the rules.”
She looked down at his large hands, still resting on the table, taking in his blunt-cut nails and tanned fingers, with nicks and scars and the lightest dusting of hair on his knuckles.
As she stared, a slow burn started deep in her belly, winding its way up to her back and down her tummy and settling right…where she wanted those hands. Her mouth went bone-dry, her blood ran burning hot, and for a moment, everything in her wanted to change the rules of the game before they were even set.
Would sex be so bad?
No, it would be earth-shattering and amazing and delicious and worth every possible pain and regret because—
“Cassie?”
She looked up, falling into blue, blue eyes with navy flecks and dark lashes and just enough hope and heat that she almost said yes.
But then she’d never leave Bitter Bark
. Because Braden Mahoney could be a fake boyfriend, but he could never be a one-night stand.
“No sex,” she confirmed, easing her hands out from under his. “That would be stupid, Einstein.”
Wouldn’t it?
* * *
Well, well, well. At least all that chemistry wasn’t a product of his imagination.
Braden studied Cassie’s profile as she flipped to a clean page in her little notebook and wrote Braden’s Event at the top. None of the details of her features were new to him, but that didn’t make it any less fun to memorize them.
He was already familiar with her fine bones and the smooth, olive-toned complexion she must have inherited from her Greek father. He’d already imagined running his hands through the nearly black hair she had pulled into a thick, sloppy ponytail and tracing the defined lines of her jaw, the soft curve of her throat with his fingertips. Or lips. He was no stranger to the depths of her ebony eyes or the way her long lashes cast a shadow over her cheekbones.
Fact was, he’d been into Cassie since the day he met her. And now that he knew she was moving away? Cassandra Santorini just became his ideal woman. Except for the no sex and fake dating part.
“Maybe we could think of a way to piggyback off Ella’s event,” she said, scribbling the word Ideas on the first line.
“Yeah.” Except…damn. He had no clue what that event was. “What exactly is she doing again?”
“Dude, your own sister? Do you not talk to her?”
“I haven’t done much but study and work for months,” he admitted. “So humor me. What is Ella’s fundraiser? She can’t be raising cash for Bone Appetit, because her dog treat business isn’t a nonprofit.”
“No, but her charity is. Kibbles for Kindness donates treats to shelters,” she said.
“Oh, I remember.” Ella and his mom had told him about this. “A dog baking contest?”
She laughed, turning the page to another that was covered in multicolored ink. “No dogs will be baked, but treats will be, and the best-tasting one—according to the canine judges—gets grooming for life at Darcy’s shop. Entrants to the Pawsbury Bake-Off are paying a lot of money because Ella also got some big muckety-mucks from the Family First Pet Foods company interested in her event.”
Hot Under the Collar Page 7
