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9
LYNDI
“Ithought about the fake dating thing,” I said as I dropped into the chair beside Beau.
We hadn’t really spoken since that talk inside the house. We’d just gone through the motions of the reception, all while seated next to each other at the wedding-party table. Which, by the way, had lost a bit of its luster considering the fact that I’d made things so awkward between us with all of my ‘I’m not the heroine’ talk.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, looking slightly guarded.
“Yeah. And I want to know what’s in it for you.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, there has to be something in it for both of us. You can’t just do me a favor and pretend to be my boyfriend so my family will stop trying to set me up. It won’t work. In fake relationship books, they both have to get something out of it.”
“I thought you said this wasn’t like one of your books.”
“Okay, fine. Maybe I don’t want to think of you doing me this annoying favor when it’s basically your job. So, if you don’t have a reason, then I need to insist on paying you for it. What’s your app called?”
I pulled my phone out of my clutch and navigated to the app store. Like I didn’t know what his app was called. Like I hadn’t downloaded it and then deleted it multiple times over the last year.
I hadn’t planned to use it to actually book his services or anything, but my curiosity had gotten the better of me on multiple occasions, and I’d filled out the interest form once or twice before deleting everything.
Before my app store could even load, Beau reached out and put his warm hand over mine, lowering the phone. “I’m not taking your money.”
“You have to,” I insisted, pulling away and looking at the phone again. “Because if you’re not getting anything out of this, then I’m a freeloader. Rules are rules. I’ll hire you, sign a contract, deliver the payment, and follow your guidelines to the letter.Ah-ha. Mr. Fake Date. Found it.”
“Lyndi.”
I looked up, surprised by the edge in his tone. “What?”
“I already told Ms. Hattie it was unofficial, so you can’tmake itofficial.”
“Not good enough.”
Seeing that I wasn’t going to give in, he let his head fall back. “Fine. My pops made me make him a promise, and I’m hoping that if I can tell him about us, it’ll count.”
“What was the promise?”
He closed his eyes. “Lyndi.”
Taking a risk, I reached over and put my hand on his knee. The soft royal blue of his dress uniform did nothing to prevent a shock from going up my arm at the contact. “Beau?”
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “He wanted me to promise I’d find something real and stop doing the fake dating thing.”
Hope stirred in my chest, but I did everything I could not to show it. “And you think you could find that with me?”
“No,” he said quickly, something a little like panic flashed in his eyes before he looked at the dance floor and rolled his broad shoulders. Then, when he looked back at me, he was all business. “Like you said, you don’t want to be with someone who’s leaving. I’m leaving, Lyndi, and I don’t want to be with anyoneat all. So, as much as I think we’ll have fun pretending, I don’t plan to make it real.”
And just like that, the bottle rockets in my chest were doused with water.
“Okay,” I all but whispered. More words tumbled around in my brain, begging for release, but I held them back. What else could I say without sounding totally pathetic?
Shifting in his seat, he gestured to the phone in my hand. “Is that good enough? Can we move forward without you trying to pay me now?”
“Yeah,” I said, something like doubt sliding over me. How was I supposed to fake date the guy I’d been totally crushing on for a year without messing it up by falling for him? Then I got an idea. “But wait, one more thing.”
“What?”
