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But he’d never extended his saintly gestures to me.
Not that I’d earned them. I’d spent a lifetime torturing him, doing anything and everything to get a rise out of him. Just aching to see one perfect strand of hair slide out of place. Just once.
He was just so inherently… good. Everything he touched turned to success. Nothing handed to him, just a natural ability to try something and in no time at all, excel at it.
Nick approached everything with unflappable patience and dedication, until he slid into mastery.
No strutting or bragging.
His accidental perfection was unsettling.
Which meant he was the absolute perfect solution to thwart my mother and whatever she had up her sleeve with Daniel.
If he didn't drive me out of my mind before then.
Sunshine danced over his skin, glinting on the tips of the scruff he’d let grow in. Even the awkward stage between smooth-shaven and neat beard was perfect.
He was completely oblivious to it. And wasn’t that a punch in the tit? He was simply indifferent to his benevolence.
My proximity to Nick always seemed to highlight my inadequacies. Or so I thought. But perhaps proximity was the key.
Well, feigned proximity. Whatever got us through the weekend.
Nick could be my arm candy… and my mom adored him so win-win. She’d be planning our babies before our heads hit the pillow tonight.
Our boots clicked over the damp asphalt as we made our way to the resort to meet our families and check in. We had maybe five minutes before we jumped under the microscope of two nosy mothers.
“Okay, so we need some rules.”
His lips quirked. “I’m pretty sure only one of us needs rules. Lots of rules.”
“Funny.” I adjusted my garment bag on my shoulder. “If you plan to sell yourself as my boyfriend, especially to our mothers, you’ll have to treat me like I’m not Nair headed straight for your balls.”
His head swung to mine, and he pierced me with a wary stare. “Is that a move from your playbook I haven’t encountered yet?”
“Yet, but we’re young. There’s still time.” I patted his shoulder and laughed at his horrified expression.
His assessing gaze raked over me, and his mouth turned down at the corners. “Maybe I just have a healthy fear your vagina has teeth and I’m not dumb enough to go anywhere near that nightmare.”
Well, the joke’s on him… I have a fabulous vagina. Very responsive.
“There’s nothing healthy about you fearing any vagina. Move that to the top of the list to tackle with your therapist. Lucky for us, you won’t have to get near my big, scary vagina to make it through the weekend. Neither of our parents will expect PDA if I’m dating you—”
He snorted. “Why does that feel like a dig?”
The frigid air chugged in and out of my lungs, leaving a biting sting with every breath. Cars rolled through the north entrance and lined up, waiting to unload. The resort gleamed from months of disuse and off-season upkeep.
“Not a dig, just truth. You’re not flash, pretty boy. But that works for us. We can go through this whole weekend with you doing nothing more than pulling out my chair and brushing your hand over my lower back when you guide me into a room. Oooh,” I said with a snap of my fingers. “And make a show of holding my hand at some point and our parents will be neck deep in planning our wedding and the littles to follow.”
He skidded to a stop. “Littles?”
I grabbed his hand and tugged him back to my side. “Kids.”
“Jesus.”
“Jesus was a nice guy and all, but he can’t help you. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
“Terrifying,” he muttered.
