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She stepped forward and trailed her fingers over the duvet. “It’s fine. We can just make a pillow wall, or whatever.” She glanced at him over her shoulder, and heat licked up his spine. “Unless it’s weird. Is it weird?”
“No,” he reassured her. “It’s not weird.” He pressed a finger into his own chest. “I don’t think it’s weird. I mean, if you think it’s weird . . .”
She licked her lips, and something kicked low in his gut. “I guess it’s not weird?” She shook her head. “I feel like I’m saying weird a lot.”
She didn’t give him a chance to answer before she moved farther into the room and then stepped out onto the balcony. “Hey, check out this view!”
He stepped out beside her, leaning his forearms on the stucco wall of the balcony. To the right, the blue-green ocean glittered in the last rays of daylight, waves lapping softly at the shore in a soothing rhythm. Palm trees arched up from the white sand into the sky, sheltering the blue and beige beach loungers facing the water. To the left, they could see the massive pool, surrounded with more of the same blue loungers, straw and wood umbrellas spaced every several feet.
It was absolutely gorgeous. Warm, and peaceful, and lush.
As he surveyed the breathtaking scenery, he tried to make sense of his confusing jumble of feelings for Carly. Something had shifted between them on the plane. Something was still shifting, and he wasn’t sure what had triggered it. But for the first time in their two-year friendship, he found himself attracted to her. And it wasn’t because she’d done anything differently. No, the change was happening in him. What he didn’t understand was how, or why.
But he didn’t necessarily want to fight it either; hence his willingness to go along with her ruse. Not to mention that it worked in both his favor and hers. And it gave him a way to . . . explore. To see if he could be . . . different. Better.
He had a feeling that this would either be awesome, or blow up in his face.
* * *
Carly slipped her hand into Dean’s as they walked down the path leading away from their building. Heat that had nothing to do with the warm night air worked its way up her arm. Three handholding incidents in one day was almost too much for her. But handholding went with the game she and Dean had agreed to play—a game she still had very mixed feelings about.
Sure, it would be fun to pretend, to have an excuse to touch Dean and imagine someone who looked like he did could actually be hers. But she felt lousy about lying to his family. And underneath all of that was a yearning for it all to be completely real, and sadness at the fact that it would only ever be pretend.
She knew his feelings could never be anything but platonic. After all, he’d known her for two years now and had had plenty of opportunities to flirt with her or ask her out. But instead, they’d struck up an easy friendship while he slept his way through the female population of Cheyenne.
The toe of her sandal caught on a rock, and she stumbled forward. Dean’s grip tightened on her hand while his free arm slid around her waist, helping her to stay upright. Goosebumps erupted across her skin at the feeling of his warm, strong hand on her hip.
The sky was dark, a swath of velvet sprinkled with stars. Ground-level lights illuminated the path, and the buildings of the resort glowed softly. But standing here, alone on the path with Dean, she felt as though the darkness was enfolding them, hiding them away from the world. She took a breath and her breasts pressed into his chest. His fingers flexed against her hip.
Carly took a step back, reminding herself that it was just pretend. And that if she wanted to survive the trip with her heart intact, she needed to remember that and not let herself get swept up in Dean.
Tempting as he was.
“Uh, thanks,” she said, her voice coming out raspy and strained.
Dean cleared his throat, not moving to take his hands off of her. “You’re, um . . .” His gaze held hers for a moment. “You’re welcome.”
With a nod, she started walking again, sucking in a lungful of the salty air. The steakhouse where everyone was meeting for dinner was near the beach, and Dean followed her. Palm trees, lit from the base and shining like tropical beacons in the night, lined the path. From somewhere behind them, the now-empty pool gurgled. Ahead of them, Carly could see the beach, the ocean shining darkly in the night, glinting with starlight. The resort reminded Carly of a tropical, luxe campus, everything contained within a small area. Tomorrow, she’d get to explore more, check out the pool and the beach. Maybe after a good night’s sleep, she’d feel clearer about . . . well, about everything.
They reached the restaurant, an elegant, white stucco building with glass and dark wood accents, and a suited host showed them to the large table at the back. Tropical jazz music drifted softly through the air, and the scents of fresh baked bread and steak made her mouth water. Carly sucked in a deep breath and put her game face on, reminding herself that the lie, the charade, had a purpose. To enjoy paradise, unencumbered by pity or condescension or judgement.
A tiny, dark voice whispered, “To pretend he’s yours. To imagine just what that would be like.” The dark voice was right, but she pushed it away, not wanting to unpack all of that right now.
“Hey, everyone,” called Dean from directly behind Carly. His voice vibrated down her spine, and she fought the urge to shiver. “Sorry we’re a bit late. This is my girlfriend, Carly.”
The words sounded so weird, so foreign, almost as though he’d stopped speaking English. Several pairs of eyebrows rose as people exchanged curious glances before turning their attention her way.
Meep.
This was different than being on stage, on doing her planned and rehearsed stand-up routine. This was more like improv, which had never been her forte. Planned and rehearsed, she could do. Off the cuff?
Yeah. Meep.
“I thought you weren’t seeing anyone,” she heard the man she assumed was the groom murmur to Dean, who shrugged good naturedly.
“It’s new.”
Guilt churned through her stomach at the lie, but she smiled and nodded, holding out her hand to shake as Dean introduced her around the table. He started with his Aunt Ellen and Uncle Mark, his cousin Luke’s parents, and then introduced her Luke, the groom, and Luke’s son, Ethan. Then he moved on to Luke’s brother Matt, and his fiancée, Ellie. Carly did a quick double take, her eyes bouncing between Luke and Matt. She’d known that they were twins, but she’d been unprepared for how strikingly identical they were. At least they were easily distinguishable by their hair—Luke’s was shaggy and nearly touched his ears, while Matt’s was much shorter. Matt also sported a sleeve tattoo, so at least she wouldn’t get them mixed up. At that point, Luke took over the introductions, introducing her to his fiancée Christie, her parents, Dave and Grace, her grandmother, Rose, and her friends Jenna and Shannon, the maid of honor and lone bridesmaid. Everyone’s names went by in a dizzying blur of smiles and handshakes, and she did her best to hold onto them, but she knew she’d likely need a refresher from Dean.
