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I’ve never pretended to be anyone besides exactly who I am.
Somehow, my ex-wife put up with it for a few years, dragged me into her undertow, until the next thing I knew, I was wrapped up in her. I’m not sure if Charisma and I ever sincerely loved each other, but for a time we were enough in love with the idea of love.
Enough to get us down the aisle believing we’d make it despite the uncertainties.
Enough to buy a heaping pile of bullshit we fed ourselves.
And I still can’t say it wasn’t mostly my fault.
“August?”
Elle’s soft voice dashes my thoughts like delicate fingers parting a curtain. I lift my head, opening my eyes.
“Yeah?”
Her hazel eyes search mine in the darkness. I wonder sometimes what she sees when she looks at me.
“You’re brooding so loud I can’t hear myself think,” she says with a smile. “And not your usual stormy-storm. Or else I’d be giving you so much crap you’d pull over and leap out just to get away from me.”
Despite myself, I smile slightly.
She just draws it out of me lately.
“Just thinking about the lawsuit,” I lie. I think it would bother her to know I was worrying about her—never mind the fact that I’d be blurring the professional lines between us. “Also, whatever Aunt Clara isn’t telling me that could affect its outcome.”
“I do wonder what’s up with her ...” Elle reaches for the car door handle—then stops with this self-conscious movement that tells me she remembers she’s supposed to be my fiancée and let me do publicly chivalrous things like opening doors for her. “When I spent the day with her, she seemed—I dunno—sad? Lost? But not guilty.”
“Yeah. Hang on.”
I slip outside and pull my long winter coat on against the wintry night. We had to park a few blocks down, and frankly I’m concerned about Elle’s bare legs.
I’m too damned caught up on what those legs would feel like wrapped around me as I open her door and offer her my hand, gripping her slim fingers and lifting her out with a little too much force. It makes her clutch my arm as she finds her footing with a gasp.
My neck feels too warm.
“My bad.” I clear my throat, looking away.
“Don’t know your own strength?” she teases lightly, then pulls back. “Let me get my coat.”
It’s more that you’re so light, I think. Like the smallest breeze could blow you over.
Like I could throw you around and make you bounce on my cock until you scream yourself hoarse, woman.
“Let me,” I say quickly, dipping past her to fetch her coat from the car seat. “Here, you’re shivering.”
“Feels like winter lasts longer every year, though it’s nothing like New York in February.”
Elle turns her back to me and slips her arms into the coat.
I fold it around her. Drawing her into the fabric embrace feels like pulling her into my arms.
For a moment, I feel it.
What it would be like to be casual and relaxed enough to embrace her from behind, engulf her in my body heat to chase the cold from her bones.
Fuck, it’s like she belongs there.
Like I want her to belong, and not just to keep this ruse chugging along.
