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I’ve never been somewhere like DelMonte. And Luke’s compliments about my style aside, I’m not sure the outfits I own are fancy enough for this place, no matter how well-coordinated they might be. Rich people can spot knockoff designer clothes from a mile away, I’m told.
I don’t know many ultra-rich people aside from Luke, and he’s not that kind of person. He barely even notices if his own socks match, let alone if someone else’s outfit is particularly posh or not.
Finally, I decide I’ve packed as well as I possibly can, and I close the door shut behind me and head downstairs. I threw on a cute sundress and hope it’s the right thing to wear to something like this.
On the curb, I pause. Luke brought the Tesla. That means he’s really showing off today. I suppress a smile and wonder who exactly this friend of his is. I’ve never heard Luke mention a Paul, but if his other close friends and acquaintances are anything to judge by, he’s probably from one of the other big competing tech firms.
Luke has a one-track mind, and that track is work. If you ask me, Paul made a smart bet with him years ago, gambling that Luke would never commit to anything other than his office.
The thought makes my heart sink a little, at least until I hear the driver’s side door open. Then my heart stops altogether.
Luke looks resplendent in his favorite suit, the one I had pressed and steamed for him the other day. He comes around to my side of the car to take my bag, before opening the passenger door for me with a wink.
“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a bit?” I ask, even though I have to suppress a grin to do it. “Husbands don’t really open doors or carry their bags for them anymore.”
“Yours does,” he replies, in a low, confidential voice that makes my chest constrict. As I step past him to slide into the car, his hand brushes my arm, just for a second and lightly enough that it could be a casual mistake. But it’s a mistake that makes my belly tighten and my thighs clamp together.
What am I doing? For the first time, the full weight of what I’ve agreed to do this weekend hits home. Do I really think I’m going to be able to conceal my feelings for Luke all weekend? Especially in such close quarters, when we’re pretending to be married. My heart races as I watch Luke in the rearview, loading my bag into the trunk and then coming around to his side and settling in behind the wheel.
“I could have driven myself, you know,” I babble, before my face flushes. “I mean, thank you, but—”
“Husbands drive their wives.” He hesitates before he puts the car in gear and turns to face me. “Celia, I just wanted to say, before we go… I really need to go all in on this charade. Is that all right with you?” He smiles, a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “If you want to back out now, I won’t blame you. Like I said, I know it’s a lot to ask.”
I square my shoulders, ignoring the rabbiting of my heart. No matter how worried I might be about my real feelings showing this weekend, there’s no way I’m backing out now. The last thing I’d do would be to leave Luke in a lurch. Especially one like this.
His hand is resting on the gear shift. Tentatively, I reach out to touch it. He flips it over and catches my hand in his, threading our fingers together. It’s a more intimate touch than we’ve ever shared, and I catch my breath at the sensation of his strong fingers between mine. It makes me imagine what they’d feel like on other parts of my body. Sliding up my arms and then down my curves, following them around my waist to cup my ass and lift me up off this car seat…
“I told you I’d help, Luke,” I say, and I pray my voice doesn’t sound as funny or strained to him as it does to my own ears. “I’m not going to back out on you now.” I squeeze his hand once, and release him, my fingertips tingling where we just touched. “Besides, you promised me some five-star meals. I’m not about to miss out on those.”
He laughs and puts the car in gear. “Good to know what kind of things can tempt you, Celia. Food, wine… anything else on your list of irresistible temptations?”
I bite my tongue over the urge to reply, You. “You’ve got the main ones down,” I say instead, and roll down my window to enjoy the spring breeze as we head out of the city toward the shore.
The drive is beautiful, all the more so because of all the glances I’m able to steal of Luke while he drives. With his focus on the road, I can enjoy drinking him in more than I’d usually dare. He’s smiling, relaxed, and chatty as we go. He tells me all about Paul—an old friend from college who’s a partner at a huge law firm in New York now. He tells me about the beach and the hotel. About how much he needs a break.
