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“You mustreallybe thinking about what our love story is,” Archer says, breaking me from my thoughts.
I sit up in my chair, trying to not think about him hot and sweaty on a football field. The mental picture is too easy after he elaborated on everything he had to do to stay in good enough shape to play.
“Well,” I hurriedly get out, trying to pretend I really was intensely thinking about what we’d tell people. “Everyone already knows that our families have known each other for ages. We don’t have to tell people how we met because we’ve just always kind of known one another.”
“That part is obvious,” he clips out. His eyes darken, but I don’t know why. Maybe he’s thinking about what tore our families apart.
“I don’t see you offering an epic love story for the two of us.”
“Epic, huh?”
I smile, leaning forward on the table to rest my chin between my palms. “Yes, epic. The luxury of being fake married is you get to tell whatever story you want. Let’s see…what should we tell them?” I think for a moment, trying to remember all of my favorite rom-com plots to see if I can pull ideas from any of them.
“Oh!” I smile, my top teeth digging into mybottom lip with excitement. “We’re definitely going to tell them that you chased me. That it took forever for me to agree to a date with you.”
His forehead wrinkles with a frown. “We’re not telling people that you denied me.”
I nod, my smile getting wider. “Oh yes, we are. Our families are enemies, remember? They’ll never believe I said yes to you immediately.”
He lets out a resigned sigh. “So what exactly will you tell her?”
My finger taps against my chin as I think about his question. “I’ll say we struck up some small talk at an event. That for once, we had a civil conversation. It was nice—friendly even.”
Archer reaches back and scratches his neck. “I’m not sure anyone would ever call me friendly.”
“For me, you were,” I counter. Because of him, my heart beats erratically in my chest. I didn’t think I’d have so much fun coming up with a pretend love story for the two of us, yet here I am having the time of my life doing it. There are so many things we could tell people, so many different versions of a story I can imagine.
“Or we tell people that you chased me. I’ve never chased a woman. People might not believe us if we said I changed for you.” He leans forward, resting his sharp jawline in his large palm. His eyes stay focused on me. I try not to squirm under his intense stare.
“Love changes a person,” I tease. I probably could think of a story that seems a little more realistic other than he chased me, but it’s fun to imagine. A man like Archer Moore putting his sights on you and only you is any woman’s dream.
“So what’s the rest of the story?” he asks, his eyes intent on mine. He has this ability to capture your attention with just the way he looks at you. It’s intense, like he’s focusing on no one else but you.
“We talked that night. You decided I wasn’t as bad as youthought. I enjoyed talking to you, but I never imagined you enjoyed it too…”
He continues to give me his undivided attention. He barely even moves as he waits for me to complete the story.
“We didn’t talk for a bit, but of course, we’d end up at the same events as one another. One night, we bumped into each other, and you asked to grab dinner sometime. I denied you at first, thinking you were wanting to talk business.”
“But eventually, I convinced you that it wasn’t about business for me,” he interrupts, his deep voice confident and sure.
“Perfect,” I whisper, my face heating with the way he just said that sentence. It was deep and raspy, and I feel like he could get any woman off just by the sound of his voice.
I blink.Did I just have a dirty thought about Archer Moore?
Technically, it was just about his voice, but now that I’m thinking about it even more, I’m wondering what he’s like in the bedroom. Is he this commanding in bed? What does his voice sound like when he’s about to come…
“What are we telling them for our first date?” Archer’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. I bolt up in my chair, worried somehow he became a mind reader and knows exactly what was just running through my head.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly noticing my sudden change in demeanor. “Does talk of our fake first date get you excited, Winnie?”
“No,” I squeak. Why does my name coming from his lips sound so sexual? Maybe I just need him to not talk at all. I’m tired, and it’s been a weird day. That’s theonlyreason I’m reacting to him this way.
The slight smirk on his lips tells me he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push it either. Instead, he seems to really think of a good story to tell the world about our first date. His fingers fumble with the fancy watch on his wrist. “For our first date, I did something private but over-the-top. Only the best for you.”
My heart flutters inside my chest, eventhough I know none of this is real. It doesn’t matter. I can’t help but feel giddy to plan this with him. To imagine him planning some big, elaborate first date for me. “Tell me more,” I insist, my voice just above a whisper.
“I flew in a private chef from Italy to make your favorite meal.”
