Mack takes the offramp to a smaller highway, then looks over and catches my eye. "Layne, look… If we're married, I'm going to have to be close with you. Put my arm around you, hold your hand, give you a kiss on the forehead. Is that okay?"
Please don't let my cheeks be turning scarlet please don't let my cheeks be turning scarlet please don't let my cheeks be turning scarlet.
"Of course. That's part of the job."
His hand darts out to clasp mine. Just that one touch makes me flushed and tingly, but I take a slow breath and try to pretend it's normal, squeezing his fingers back. I look over to see him grinning.
"That was a test, just to make sure you didn't flinch," he says with a chuckle.
I laugh with him, then squeeze his fingers again before he releases my hand.
Playing the part of this man's classy wife shouldn’t be a problem. I look the part now.
But how am I going to control this fluttering in my lower belly, or keep my face from flushing every time we get close?
4
MACK
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Layne and I had some great conversations on the drive up, so I'm pretty sure we’ll get along well over the weekend, but… I'm drawn to her. Those ravishing blue eyes. That irresistibly curvy figure. It's going to take all my focus to keep my hands off her and remind myself every three minutes that the husband part is fake, and the boss part is real. I already know that distinction is going to get blurry.
She was gorgeous enough in the diner last night, but on the drive up she was positively breathtaking. Her figure was still covered, just no longer hidden under baggy fabric.
Thank goodness she wasn’t shocked by the idea of sharing a room. The king-sized bed means we'll have plenty of space, but if I sense the slightest bit of hesitation in her eyes later, I'll sleep on the couch. It'll be worth a stiff neck to keep her from noticing anything else getting stiff.
After hovering in the lobby for twenty minutes, pretending I know these people, I walk around the lounge slowly, as if looking for someone, memorizing the faces and body language of thepeople Ron warned us might overdrink. I need to know what they’re like sober so if they're a problem later, I can spot it.
One man's gaze flicks quickly toward the floral arched entry. Another guy follows suit. I swivel my head to see what they're looking at.
Oh. My. God.
It's Layne. She's…magnificent.
Her rose patterned dress is a deep, muted pink. On anyone else, it wouldn't stand out. But with those soft curves and her pouty lips stained the exact same shade… She reminds me of a fifties pinup, from a time when women had real hips you could wrap your hands around and squeeze. My hands are clenching just from thinking about it.
Her huge blue eyes survey the room, and I see two guys at the bar begin to slowly approach her. With a few quick strides, I cut them off, taking her hands in mine. "Darling, you look ravishing. May I get you a drink?"
She smiles sweetly. "I like you in that jacket. See? Your stylist was right."
We already agreed in the car to mention little things about our life together and just run with it. I roll my eyes theatrically. "Yes, darling. You and Michelle style me wonderfully. I know nothing of fashion, just that you look too beautiful to be here in public."
I take her hand, escorting her to the bar and waiting until there is a lull with no one else in line. "Caleb, right?" I ask the bartender. "I believe you got a special shipment a few hours ago?"
He nods. "Mack?"
"Yes. And this is my lovely wife, Layne. We'd like some white wine from that batch, please. That's what we'll be drinking all night."
He gives a discreet thumbs up that only we can see. "Gotcha. And I got your note about the special batch for certain people later, too."
"I'll keep you posted on that. Thanks."
As he pours our wine, I slip an arm around Layne to feel her hot body snuggled against me as I whisper in her ear. "You said last night that you liked white wine. This stuff is alcohol-free. There's also zero-proof whiskey, bourbon and beer, so Caleb can slide that in for any guests who might be getting out of control."
She looks up at me with a grin. “That’s genius!"
Once we have our glasses, Layne begins to move to the side of the room, but I take her arm firmly. "Nope, we belong here. Straight through the middle, darling."
