“Okay.” He nods. “You pretend to be my girlfriend for this wedding, and I’ll do whatever you need for Aurora.”
I know he has his own motivations for wanting to play along, but his statement feels like protection over my daughter. For so long, that’s only ever been my job.
I squeeze my hand between us, palm flat and ready. “Deal.”
Westley looks down at my hand, then over my shoulder. “She’s watching,” he mutters, looking back at me. “Can I kiss your cheek?”Kiss?At my panicked expression, he doubles down. “I can’t shake your fucking hand. We’re meant to be dating.”
His voice slips into something strained and sarcastic. Ohhh, daddy’s got a dominant side? I’m filing that information away for later.
I quickly summon the other side of myself, the Maevyn full of sultry fire, who doesn’t get affected by men—by anything—and lay a hand on his chest.
“So testy.” I pout. “You’d better make it good for me. It’s been a while.”
His chest inflates under my palm as he flips his hat around so it sits backward. Thank God his hand is still on my waist, or I might’ve dropped on the spot. The hat clearly has superpowers.
His head dips as he slowly moves in and presses his lips to my cheek. They’re surprisingly soft. Warm and pillowy. His beard tickles my chin, and I imagine it in other places. My eyes close, and my pulse feels sluggish. What in fresh hell is this feeling? It’snice.
“Put your number in here.” My eyes flutter open as the spell seems to break. He holds his phone between us, our bodies still so close I can feel the tension as it fizzes on our skin, like fire popping on sparklers. “We can talk more details later,” he says as I put my number in, still feeling slightly dazed.
The promise of seeing him later fills my body with every kind of feeling I’ve worked so hard to avoid for as long as I can remember.
Good thing I’m an expert at hiding.
10
“I had to give your ex a facial today, so thanks for that,” Maevyn says by way of greeting when she opens her front door.
The top of her hair is gathered haphazardly in an oversized scrunchie, and she’s back to a plain silver hoop through her septum.
She’s so unlike any of the women I’ve been attracted to in the past, and I can’t put my finger on what makes her different. Is it her eyes that seem to hold questions like a riddle, giving me all the pieces but no clue on how they fall together? Is it the stories inked on her skin, those amazing curves, or the fact that every time she talks to me, it’s like a playful, taunting offering of a life I’ve never tasted, but am somehow starving for?
I wince. “Sorry.”
Truth be told, I wasn’t really thinking about Maevyn having to go into Parlour Tricks after Phoebe walked in because my mind kept replaying how close we got right before I left. Her hand was on my chest, settling my frantic heartbeat, and when I leaned in to kiss her cheek, that chocolate scent of hers invaded my senses. Like clouded thoughts swimming around my head, cocoa and a hint of mandarin. It was sexy and complex. Mysterious. Just the way I would describe the woman standing in front of me.
“Can I come in?”
She pulls the door open with a sigh, walking back through her house, leaving me to follow. “I had to lie my arse off because she wanted to talk all through her treatment.”
Involuntarily, my eyes drop to said arse. Still wearing those tight, ripped-up jeans from earlier. There’s a tear just below the right arse cheek, perfectly shaped around the fullness.
“I didn’t know how long you’d been broken up, so I told her we hadn’t been together long, but you’re such a good guy,” she says wryly.
She turns on her heel, walking backwards, and holds clasped hands to her chest as if she’s swooning. When we reach the kitchen, she leans her back against the bench opposite me, and I do the same. “I’ve never been with someone who worships the ground I walk on.” A sinister smile crosses her face. “So be ready to put on a show for this wedding, baby. I expect the display of a man who loves to be down on his knees for his woman.”
“Then you’re in luck. That’s the only way I know how to be.” I smile back.
Her confidence slips for a moment, and I’ll admit, it makes me smug as shit knowing I can ruffle her feathers. I watch the column of her throat bob with a swallow, long and exposed, begging for attention.
“Is that why your ex is still into you? Maybe I want to change the terms of our deal then.” I’m convinced she’s some form of deity with the way she looks at me, so beguiling in the way her eyes show both want and disinterest.
“You’re a tricky little flirt, aren’t you?” I ask, taking a slow step towards her. “Is that your game? Always leaving them wanting more?”
“Is it working?”
Fuck yes.
I suck in a breath, and it has the opposite effect of what I was aiming for. I’m not calm or in control. The direct shot of her perfume seemed to have woken up some form of frenzied need. “We should talk about earlier.” I push the words out, forcing asafer subject.
