A game? Oh, I’m definitely in the mood to play along. However, I goddamn hate that she’s not used to receiving compliments.
Right at this moment, I make it my personal mission to let her know just how gorgeous she is. Even if this is only something to help her out—to play pretend for a few days—the very least I can do is be honest about the fact that she is absolutely dazzling. To at least reinforce that knowledge before she leaves here and goes back to her life.
Pouring myself the last of the coffee in the pot, it strikes me with a sense of the familiar and unfamiliar all in the same breath, the impossibly short space of time I’ve spent with this girl is a conundrum. I’m not usually the one with anything remotely like smooth words, but they seem to roll off my tongue easily enough around her. Henri is always the one any prospective partner of ours has been interested in. He’s the charming, handsome,good-time guaranteedwho people gravitate to. The natural flirt, with that wholebad boy athletelook going on. For those who recognize him from his rugby career, that brings an added air of intrigue. Hell, it’s partly why I fell for him in the first place, hardly being able to believe someone as impressive as him was interested in finding a quiet corner so he could ignore the world and talk tome.
But finding our missing piece has always been the struggle. We’ve both always been open to adding to our relationship, as long as it was with the right person. And out of the two of us, it’s forever me who finds it the hardest to connect with anyone else romantically. Especially out here in the middle of nowhere,I honestly gave up hope there might be asomeoneout there who could fit just right—who could be the right partner for both of our needs.
What I want is to be able to be with someone who can both give and take. Having Henri fulfils one part of my desires, and fuck, does he know exactly how to do that. However, when I’m with a woman, I crave having that ability to cede control, or at least exchange it equally. To not solely be the one calling the shots, but to switch it up.
That’s always my quiet worry. That a girl like Mia sees a cowboy like me and expects one thing, then when I try to explore putting her in charge, that she won’t be into it… that Henri will seem like the better option, because he needs to be in the driver’s seat. In the past, we’ve thought we may have found the right woman who could fit, but eventually it didn’t work because they didn’t want to be with me in the way I was hoping for.
We always agreed to only fully open up our relationship beyond something casual if it worked for both of us in the long term. Henri has been the most supportive partner I could ever dream of in that regard.I’m only in if it gives you what you need, too, big guy.
Light footsteps catch my attention just as I take a mouthful of black coffee, and I immediately damn well choke it down. The way Mia has me stumbling over my damn self should be studied.
She comes back into my line of sight, and I’m immediately searching, spluttering for air, grasping for adequate words to string together in order to let her know how incredible she looks.
Thank fuck I didn’t just spray my mouthful everywhere. My eyes water a little as I swallow and try to fucking compose myself. What the hell is wrong with me?
“You’re a knockout, darlin’.” I swipe my palm over my mouth, set the cup down, and cross to where she hovers on the other side of the kitchen island. “Coulda given me somewarning.” Taking in and appreciating the heck out of her dress she changed into is no goddamn act. The shade of forest green hugs every curve, follows the sensual dip of her waist, accentuating the flare of luscious hips, and I’m left swallowing thickly to avoid simply staring at the fullness of her breasts now truly highlighted with the fabric skimming a more figure-hugging silhouette.
Henri’s an ass man. I’m a breasts man. Mia has both in ample measure.
Fuck me in half.
Mia wouldn’t need to wear any makeup at all, but now she’s added a few touches, heavier mascara, eyeliner, and lipstick, there’s a whole lot less thought going through my mind where playing fake-boyfriend is concerned.
I’m gonna have to do exactly zero pretending.
My biggest problem might just be coming on too strong and scaring her off entirely. I mean, what the hell would she see in a guy like me anyway?
“Should we do this then?” Her eyes drift to the clock on the wall. “I guess we’re going to be walking in at the perfect moment.” Mia fusses with some loose strands of hair framing her face, with most of her hair drawn back in a ponytail.
She’s right. Since we arrived, that midwinter sun has vanished from the sky in a blink.
“Of course.” I usher her out to the truck, and I know we don’t have more than the space of a few minutes to figure out some of the necessities. “Rapid fire round of questions and answers?” I ask as I open her door, trying my best to ignore the way she looks entirely surprised I would do that for her.
“Hit me. I’m an open book.”
After shutting her door, rounding the truck, and sliding my ass into position behind the wheel, I realize my heart is through the goddamn roof. When was the last time I did something likethis? Picked up a pretty girl and went on a date? Pretend, or not, it feels like another lifetime ago, and I’m having to ignore all the ways I can hear Ford’s voice laughing at me for being so much older than her. I really, really don’t need to be thinking about how old she was when I was a young twenty-something buck picking up a girl on a weekend. Fuck.
As we drive past Henri’s workshop, the warm glow of lights leaves a pool of orange illuminated across the snow. Forever the night owl, he’s going to be more than happy to keep working away for several more hours at least.
“So, first things first, I suppose… how did we meet?” Her green eyes flicker across the bench seat at me. She should really be tucked right against my side, all things considered, but I gotta remind myself not to put the cart before the horse.
I clear my throat. “Well, it was technically a bookstore. That probably keeps it easiest?”
Mia nods. “Where was our first date? Did you buy me a corsage, take me for a milkshake to share, and have me home by a respectable hour?” As she asks, her lips twitch a little. Oh, she’s got a sneaky little sense of humor hidden away beneath that quiet exterior.
Goddamn, that’s a dangerous thing to know.
“Ouch. Age jokes already?” Poking my tongue against the inside of my cheek, I hook one wrist over the wheel and drape my other arm across the back of the seat. “Well, for the sake of keeping it simple. Dinner and a movie?”
She fiddles with the hem of her sleeve. “When did we meet?”
“Fall.” I shoot her a sideways glance. “Siblings? Do you have a protective older brother I gotta worry about?”
A little shake of her head. “Only child. How about you?”
