“I do, Phil. I’m really happy here; Dogwood Cove is exactly the kind of place I see myself staying for a good long time.”
“Maybe starting a family some day?” he asks, and I wince. This is one thing I won’t lie about.
“You know, a family isn’t really in the cards for me.” I take a sip of my own beer, debating how much to share. I guess if we’re going to be business partners, we’re going to get personal. “I’ve never wanted kids. A wife, absolutely. But no children.”
If Phil is surprised by my revelation, he hides it well. “I see, well, I can respect that. It was expected of my generation to have a family, but these days things are different. How does Mila feel about that?”
“With respect, Phil, her thoughts on children are not mine to share.”
Phil claps his hand on my shoulder. “Good point. No need to gossip. Now, these steaks look perfect. Shall we eat?”
I follow him inside, breathing an internal sigh of relief that things went as well as could be expected with that conversation. When we get inside and I see Mila smiling with Sharon Morton over the salad bowl she’s mixing, I realize something. Dogwood Cove is a town I can see myself living in for a long time, because of her.
Which makes me wonder how I’ll feel when she and I are no longer pretending to be together.
We make it through dinner. My arm is draped over the back of Mila’s chair at times, and my fingers skate across her bare shoulders. I notice every little thing she does, as if my senses are hyperaware of her. The way she shifts in her seat, leaning toward me, the elegant line of her neck when she swallows a sip of her wine, the light laugh she gives to Phil’s jokes. When her hand lands on my leg at one point, she snatches it away as if she forgot our decision to go back to just friends. I want to grab her hand and put it back, but I don’t. I set this boundary, so I need to maintain it. Even if that fleeting touch of her hand seared me to my soul.
Later on, when I drop her off at her house, I walk beside her up to the front door.
“Thank you for doing this tonight,” I say, putting my hands in my pockets. Mila peers up at me, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. I wish it did.
“Of course. Do you think it worked? Will he offer you partnership?”
“Yeah, I think it’s coming. I understand he wants to make sure I’m serious about the job and about staying here, and I think he sees that now.”
Mila fidgets with the keys in her hands. “You don’t think when we break up, he’ll change his mind?”
I shake my head firmly. “No. The job isn’t contingent on me being in a relationship. Phil might have some old-fashioned ideas but he isn’t that conservative. He’ll probably give me hell for letting you go, though.”
That makes her chuckle softly under her breath, and I can’t help it. I tip her chin up so her eyes meet mine. “Besides, we’ll stay friends, no matter what.”
“Friends.”
She says it so softly I almost don’t hear her. I wonder if the word leaves a bitter taste in her mouth like it does for me.
“Okay. Well, goodnight.” I drop my hand and take a step back, waiting as she unlocks her door. But just as she’s about to step through, I move. “Wait.” I close the short distance between us, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her. She melts into me, our lips coming together like they were made for this. I force myself to keep it brief, to not consume her the way the unbroken part of me wants to. Seeing her face flushed with desire when I pull back almost makes me change my mind, but self-preservation wins out.
“Just in case the neighbors were watching.” The words fall flat as soon as they leave my mouth and I wish I could rewind ten seconds and not say them. I cheapened our kiss, our connection, and made it all about the show.
It is all for show.
Because I made it that way.
“Goodnight, Jackson.” Mila whirls around and slips through her door, closing it and locking it behind her. I’m left standing on her porch, wondering when it all went wrong. I know I’ve made a huge mistake somewhere along the way. The question is, was it agreeing to fake date her, sleeping with her, or is it right now — standing here and not admitting to myself that I’m falling for her?
My phone wakes me up early the next morning from an unfamiliar number. I answer it groggily, to hear Ethan Monroe’s deep voice in my ear.
“Sorry to wake you, man; I figured you got up with Mila. Not that I want to think about you and my sister in bed. Fuck,” he grinds out the curse, and I let out a low laugh.
“No worries. What can I do for you?”
“I’m working on the bakery expansion today and could use an extra set of hands at some point. Reid’s busy getting the school ready for September, so Summer suggested I ask you.” His voice gets even more gruff as he continues. “She thinks we should be friends since you’re dating my sister. And yes, I know that sounds pansy-ass stupid, but don’t tell her I said that.”
I sit up in bed, trying not to think about how fucking odd it is to be on the phone with my fake girlfriend’s brother, while wearing nothing but my boxers.
“Yeah, I can do that. I have to be at the clinic after lunch, though.”
“That’s fine. Come on down whenever, we should be done with what I need help on by then.”
