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“Too needy,” he said, and Cia chortled.
He should have blown off the question, or at least picked something less cliché. But cliché or not, that’s what had made Lana so disappointing—she’d been the opposite of clingy and suffocating. For once, he’d envisioned a future with a woman. Instead, she’d been lying.
Had he seen the signs but chosen to ignore them?
“Exactly,” she said. “Needy women depend on a man to fill holes inside.”
“Who are you, Freud?”
“Business major, psych minor. I don’t have any holes. Guess I must be the perfect date, then, huh, Wheeler?” She elbowed his ribs and drew a smile from him.
“Can’t argue with that.”
Now he understood her persistent prickliness toward men. Understood it, but didn’t accept it.
Not all men were violent losers bent on dominating someone weaker. Some men appreciated a strong, independent woman. Some men might relish the challenge of a woman who went out of her way to make it clear how not interested she was five seconds after melting into a hot mess in a guy’s arms.
The stronger she was, the harder she’d fall, and he could think of nothing better than rising to the challenge of catching her. Cia wasn’t scared like he’d assumed, but she nursed some serious hang-ups about marriage and men.
Nothing about this marriage was real. None of it counted.
They had the ultimate no-strings-attached arrangement, and he knew the perfect remedy for chasing away those shadows—not-real-doesn’t-count sex with her new husband. Nothing emotional to trip over later, just lots of fun. They both knew where their relationship was going. There was no danger of Cia becoming dependent on him since he wasn’t going to be around after six months and she presented no danger to his family’s business.
Everyone won.
Instead of only visualizing Cia out of that boring dress, he’d seduce her out of it. And out of her hang-ups. A lot rode on successfully scamming everyone. What better way to make everyone think they were a real couple than to be one?
Temporarily, of course.
* * *
Lucas’s parents lived at the other end of Highland Park, in a stately colonial two-story edging a large side lot bursting with tulips, hyacinth and sage. A silver-haired older version of Lucas answered the door at the Wheelers’ house, giving Cia an excellent glimpse of how Lucas might age. She hadn’t met Mr. Wheeler at the birthday party.
“Hi, I’m Andy,” Mr. Wheeler said and swung the door wide.
Lucas shook his dad’s hand and then ushered Cia into the Wheelers’ foyer with a palm at the small of her back. The casual but reassuring touch warmed her spine, serving as a reminder that they were in this together.
Through sheer providence, she’d gained a real partner, one who didn’t hesitate to solve problems she didn’t know existed. One who calmed her and who paid enough attention to notice she wore different earrings. She’d never expected, never dreamed, she’d need or want any of that when concocting this scheme.
Thanks to Lucas everything was on track, and soon they could get on with their separate lives. Or as separate as possible while living under the same roof.
Lucas introduced Cia to his brother, Matthew, and Mrs. Wheeler steered everyone into the plush living area off the main foyer.
“Cia, I’m happy to have you here. Please, call me Fran. Have a seat.” Fran motioned to the cushion next to her on the beige couch, and Cia complied by easing onto it. “I must tell you, I’m quite surprised to learn you and Lucas renewed a previous relationship at my birthday party. I don’t recall the two of you dating the first time.”
“I don’t tell you everything, Mama,” Lucas interrupted, proceeding to wedge in next to Cia on the couch, thigh to thigh, his heavy arm drawing her against his torso. “You should thank me.”
Fran shot her son a glance, which couldn’t be interpreted as anything other than a warning, while Cia scrambled to respond.
Her entire body blipped into high alert. She stiffened and had to force each individual muscle in her back to relax, allowing her to sag against Lucas’s sky-blue button-down shirt as if they snuggled on the couch five times a day. “It was a while back. A couple of years.”
Matthew Wheeler, the less beautiful, less blond and less vibrant brother, cleared his throat from his position near the fireplace. “Lucas said four or five years ago.”
Cia’s heart fell off a cliff. Such a stupid, obvious thing to miss when they’d discussed it. Why hadn’t Lucas mentioned he’d put a time frame to their fictitious previous relationship?
“Uh...well, it might have been four years,” Cia mumbled. In a flash of inspiration, she told mostly the truth. “I was still pretty messed up about my parents. All through college. I barely remember dating Lucas.”
