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I hear the word and I can’t believe I said it out loud. I’m going along with a plan that will break my heart.
Maybe.
There is always a chance we survive this wild scheme and remain best friends. We’ve been through so much together. This doesn’t have to break us.
“I’ll do it,” I add.
Gavin crosses the kitchen in three long-legged strides. He pulls me into a hug. Holding me tightly so I can’t see his face, he murmurs, “Thank you.”
“I would have agreed without the funding for the sanctuary.” My cheek is pressed to his chest. I can hear his heart racing beneath the thin layer of his cotton t-shirt. He smells like dog and an edgy, woody fragrance that I don’t recognize. The decidedly masculine scent reminds me of pine trees and salt air all at once. “I would have helped you no matter what.”
Because even after all of these years I can’t stand to see you afraid.
I know it is torture being the kid harassed by bullies. I watched it happen, day after day. Back then I would have given anything to protect my friend, to keep him from walking down a path that might lead to the psychologist’s worst predictions. Now I have the chance. I just never expected my stand-up-and-fight moment to arrive with a mock engagement.
Will he buy me an actual ring? I’d honestly prefer a month’s worth of dog food. But that wouldn’t photograph well at the fancy New York City events he attends.
“Sure, you would have helped,” he says. He’s still holding me tightly. “You would have hired an actress who’d probably fall head-over-heels for my lifestyle if not for me and demand that I actually marry her.”
“The horror.” My sarcastic tone is not lost on Gavin. He draws back, but keeps his arms around me. I place my hands on his biceps, ready to push free if I need a little space. But my grip tightens as if my hands have other ideas. Because wow—I think Gavin might spend those long hours in his office bench-pressing boxes of software instead of designing it.
“Go ahead and mock me,” he says. “I like my life the way it is.”
That’s what I’m afraid of, I think.
“Or the way it was before Alexandra,” he continues. “I don’t need to add a gold-digging actress into the mix with blackmail.”
“I like my life too.” I push against his arms and gently break his hold on me. “I’m going to return to it when this is all over, which is why we need ground rules.”
“Rules,” he repeats with an eager grin. “Now I see what my past relationships have been missing. I forgot to break out the legal pad on the first date.”
I shake my head. “You mean that don’t you?”
“One hundred percent.” He moves to my kitchen desk and plucks a pad of paper from the messy piles. Then he riffles around for a pen. “I always have a goal and a strategy for success. Let’s sit down and map out how we plan to fool the world.”
CHAPTER 5
GAVIN
I have never been selfish when it comes to Kayla. Best friends don’t walk into your life and announce their presence. They grow over time. Then they help each other survive.
Kayla’s been helping living things, animal and human, survive for as long as I can remember. The first time I met Kayla, she enlisted my help to coax a lost dog into her house. It was starting to snow and my five-year-old future best friend was afraid the pup would freeze. Then she demanded that her parents find the owners.
Now, she is ready and mostly willing to get me through Alexandra’s blackmail threat. But it’s my responsibility to make damn sure she leaves this deal the same way she walked into it. I can’t let this plan chip away at the person she’s become since her divorce. I need to ensure her emotional survival in a world that already tore her to pieces once.
“No sex,” Kayla declares. She is seated across from me at the kitchen table, clutching a coffee mug that reads, I prefer dogs over people.
“Not with me or anyone else while we’re engaged,” she continues.
And I was worried about her fragile emotions.
I write NO SEX in all caps at the top of the page. “Next rule?” I ask.
No need to mention that I wasn’t planning on seducing her and destroying our friendship. Without Kayla, I will lose my mind. I’m not exaggerating. It’s been that way since elementary school. Why would I ruin the best part of my life with sex?
“No kissing,” she says. “Unless it is absolutely required.”
I cock my head and put on my serious expression. I have had a lot of practice looking like I’m contemplating a proposal when I’m dying of laughter inside. “How do you define ‘required kissing’?”
