Page 28 of Her Game Plan

Though I recognize that it is a wholly irrational response.

“Got it,” I grit out.

“What’s the plan?” Beckett asks, clapping his hands as if to dispel the tension in the air.

I force myself to shake it off. “Princess will jump into the truck and hand out boxes. The three of us can haul them inside, if you’re okay with that, Fin?” I look at the tall woman, making sure she’s okay with carrying boxes for the next few hours.

“Of course,” she replies. “I could use another workout today.”

Beckett pokes her in the side. “Which workout are you counting as your first? The one I gave you?”

“Ahh, gross, you guys,” Charlotte teases from the truck as Finley whacks her boyfriend’s arm.

Finley laughs. “Don’t blame us that you two decided to fake date rather than looking for people of your own to get some exercise with.” She grabs the first box from Charlotte and heads into my house.

Telling Finley and Beckett was a necessary step after we realized they could ruin everything with a few casual statements that would certainly contradict our lies. Much better to have them on our side so we can be on the same page.

Beckett and I grab a stack of two boxes and follow Finley.

“So, what is your plan for exercising?” he asks quietly when we enter the house.

I try to ignore the way my stomach tightens at the thought. “What do you mean?”

We navigate the hallway until we reach the room across from mine. This room has the biggest closet of all, well, except for mine, so we’d decided this would be the best call, even if Charlotte had seemed as hesitant as I was to have our rooms so close.

“I mean,” Beckett replies as we set our boxes down in the closet, “that you clearly can’t go out with other women right now. Even if you were the type of guy who’d be okay with cheating, even on a fake girlfriend, it could get you traded. How have you not considered this?”

I shrug. “It’s not a big deal. I can go nine months without sex. I’ve got a right hand for a reason.”

He glances at the body part in question. “You know, if my hand were insured for millions of dollars, I’d probably go lefty.”

I lift my hand, staring at it. “It’s the whole throwing arm that’s insured, for the record. Plus, righty knows what I like and gives it to me every time. Lefty is not nearly as coordinated.”

Beckett grimaces. “I know I started it, but this is too far. I didn’t really need to know.”

We continue to carry in boxes, Charlotte refusing to stay in the truck, instead choosing to carry the biggest boxes she can find. Finally, everything is in Charlotte’s room, the space transformed into a cardboard fortress. I invite Beckett and Finley to stay for dinner, but after exchanging a look I can’t decipher, they decline.

“Thanks again for your help,” Charlotte says as we walk our friends to the door.

“Happy to,” Finley replies. “You two have so much fun.” She laughs as they walk away, and before the door closes, I realize Beckett has joined her.

I start heading to the kitchen. “What do you think is so funny?” I ask Charlotte.

“Us, probably. I mean, our situation.” She twists her earring, and my gaze is locked on the lower lip she bites. “I know you’re doing me a solid. I promise I will stay out of your hair as much as possible.”

“It’s not a problem. It’s a big house.” I pull my eyes away from her face and open the fridge. “Want dinner?”

“That’s okay, I can…” She trails off, as if suddenly realizing I live in a residential neighborhood where the closest restaurants are at least a fifteen-minute drive away. And that’s if traffic is good.

“Eat with me,” I offer. “I told Charmaine, my chef, to start making the meals for two anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice is soft, so unlike the fire she normally brings.

I search the fridge for the meals labeled Sunday. “Positive.” After reading the heating instructions, I tell her, “It says it’s going to take twenty minutes. Want to sit out on the patio and have a drink?”

She gestures toward my table. “You don’t want to sit at opposite ends of the huge-ass dining table and pretend we’re a duke and a duchess who married for political reasons and now have nothing to say to one another. And even if we did, we wouldn’t be able to hear the other person?”

I scan the table in question. “That’s an option. Though knowing you, I don’t think the distance will have the impact you think it will.” Our eyes meet, and I smile when I see the humor in hers. “If the porch goes poorly tonight, we can try the lord-and-lady thing tomorrow.”