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Then, with my free hand, I bang on the door until it’s answered by the asshole himself. He’s pulled on a robe but is clearly shirtless, judging by the peek of dark brown chest hair that I spy immediately and then force myself to ignore.

“What is this?” I demand, waving my phone in his face.

Carter rubs at his eyes. His hair’s even wilder than usual, sticking up at all angles. Jesus, what time is it? Nine a.m.? He can’t possibly have been sleeping. What. A. Slacker.

I wave the phone again, and he reaches out to take it, flips through the photos and the article. Then he looks down at me as if I am truly the one who is deranged, only pausing to glance at Rudy and then back again at me.

“Sprite, do you not remember the whole ‘used dog in exchange for being my fake fiancée’ deal? We made it less than twenty-four hours ago. If you can’t remember that much maybe you’re not step-mom material.”

On that last part, he gives Rudy a pitiful look that makes me want to slap him. Carter, obviously, not Rudy.

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for Rudy,” I say. “I’m—”

“Perfect. I’m glad he’ll be in good hands. We should get the ball rolling on some fake dates. Christmas shit. Maybe a sleigh ride.”

“Hold on just a goddamn minute,” I interject. “First, you need to explain a few things. Like, how did this gossip site even know about this? And why does everyone call me Hometown Girl in the article? I have a name.”

Carter shakes his head, one brow raised like I’m just not getting it. “Would you have preferred Sprite or Dog Girl?”

“I would prefer my name,” I say. “And answer the questions.”

He shrugs. “My publicity team works out the details and they’re over the moon about all of this. They say my image is gonna be solid gold by Christmas Eve, sprite.”

I glare at him. No one can be this dense. “No one is going to actually believe it, though.”

He crosses his arms across his chest and leans his weight into the door jamb while he stares at me. “Why ever not?”

“Who would possibly believe the two of us?” To make my point, I gesture between us as if that makes it clear how ridiculous this is. When Carter just blinks at me, I continue, “We don’t have any chemistry.”

Except… maybe there’s a little chemistry. I mean, he is Carter Sheppard. He’s exuding testosterone and sexy times, but surely every woman he encounters feels it. He couldn’t possibly…

But there it is again. Just like when I first dropped off Rudy, Carter steps closer. Too close. Only this time, I’m not holding a bag of dog food and I’m quite certain he’s going in for an embrace, or even… a kiss.

“You sure about that, sprite?” Carter asks, his voice a low growl.

I suck in a breath. This is a little too close to one of my nightly fantasies. Because Carter’s inches away from me, and I’m rising up on my tiptoes and—

“Yo, Carter, you going to finish these pancakes or what?”

I jump back, reality hitting me like the horror of forgetting to buy someone a Christmas gift. I barely have time to register the image of Carter’s brother Ryan coming down the hall before I’ve hightailed it around back toward my place.

Because I almost kissed him. I almost kissed Carter Sheppard. I’m sure of it this time. It definitely wasn’t an accidental almost-hug. And yes, yes, he’s the finest specimen of male perfection my eyes have ever had the pleasure of viewing.

But that’s exactly the problem.

To Carter, I’m a means to an end. Which means that, if I’m going to survive this, I need to have a clear grasp of reality.

It’s important that I do not learn what his lips feel like.

Or… anything else.

I need to refocus on being as uninterested as possible.

“I’ll pick you up tonight, sunshine,” Carter calls after me, and I can hear the smirk in every word. “And dress to impress. I may or may not have booked a photographer.”

I sigh as the door shuts, looking at Rudy hopelessly. All of this might be easier if I didn’t feel like I’m almost definitely headed for disaster.

“I just have to make it to Christmas Eve,” I tell Rudy. “I can do that, right?”

In response, Rudy chooses that moment to hike his leg on a bush.

Which might be an omen, and I can say one thing.

It doesn’t feel like a good one.

Chapter Five

I nearly have to take a cold shower after my morning interaction with Carter, but it’s winter in Michigan so I settle for a lukewarm shower instead. How dare he try to use his player, sex-on-a-stick vibes just to get what he wants. Which, okay, did I agree to fake dating to support the fake engagement? Yes. But I agreed for Rudy and Rudy alone. I don’t need Carter making this confusing.

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