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Alex airplaned the spoon toward her. “Open wide for some yum yum.”
She shook her head like an infant. When he began to make engine noises, she couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. That’s when he landed the food in her mouth. Flavor burst on Jan’s tongue, and her eyes widened.
“Good?” he asked, swiping a dab at her cheek with his thumb.
“Delicious,” she admitted.
His finger lingered on her cheek a moment too long. His gaze dipped to her lips. Jan licked at her bottom lip to gather more of the hot and nutty flavors.
Alex swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. He took his hand away and fidgeted. Was it from the compliment? Or their closeness? She wasn’t sure?
“We make a good team,” he said.
“Sugar and spice.”
“I’m the sugar,” he insisted.
She giggled. Then she covered her mouth. Jan Peppers never giggled. What had gotten into her?
Probably that light peck he’d given her earlier at Esme’s speech. She’d known it was for show for the press, but the little kiss had had a big impact on her.
The whole show of affection he’d displayed before the kiss, holding her in his arms, resting his head atop her head like they were a real couple. It short circuited something in her brain. She was certain that was why she’d taken that reporter to task.
No. If she were honest, she’d have to admit that the two incidences were separate. When that reporter had begun intentionally misinterpreting or simply outright ignoring facts to paint Alex in a negative light, it had ticked off Jan.
Which was funny because Jan never stood up for herself. But cast someone she cared about in a negative light, and she turned into a pit bull. If she ever encountered that nasty reporter again, she’d be sure to develop a case of lockjaw.
Alex had just stood there and taken it. He’d told her that it was pointless to fight back. The press—and the people—had no intentions of recasting him in a more appropriate role. But they’d be fools to think that Jan would be cast as a clueless, pitiful bride to be.
Alex chopped up apples while she diced carrots for their creation. She watched as his hands handled both the blade and the fruit with deft fingers. She wondered what those hands would feel like cupping her cheek, pressing at her back.
The problem was, she knew exactly what they’d feel like. She’d felt them more than once over the past few days, and she was hungry for more.
If she were being honest, his every touch, his every word, his every glance was affecting her. She had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t real. None of it.
They were playing for the cameras so that they could make their dreams come true. Was she going to last months in this fake engagement? With only just a couple of days, it was feeling more and more real to her.
The oven timer dinged. She moved to place on her oven mitts. As she did so, she felt him move behind her. He didn’t touch her. Still, she’d grown so aware of him she felt she knew where he was headed before he set in motion.
“I was thinking,” he said coming to lean against the counter as she removed the pie from the oven’s belly.
She sighed dramatically as she placed the hot dish on the stovetop. “Recipes change when you do that.”
Alex chuckled lightly. He ran his hand over the back of his neck. He was fidgeting again. “I was thinking we could get away this weekend. Maybe sail over to Spain and—”
“Sail to Spain?”
“Yeah, there’s a dish I want you to try at this tiny hole in the wall restaurant.”
“You want to sail to Spain for dinner?” Jan removed her oven mitts and turned to face him.
He shrugged as though he’d asked her to come down to breakfast.
“For work, you mean?”
Again he shrugged, but his hand went again to the back of his neck. He rubbed the spot fiercely as he spoke, not quite meeting her gaze. “You’re my fiancée. I don’t need a reason to wine and dine you.”
There was that fuzzy line again. Jan liked exact measurements and precise times. She needed things to be crystal clear. She picked up the apples he’d chopped and poured them into the mixing bowl with the sriracha and peanut butter.
