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She nodded politely at Mike and Ashley, as well as Dean’s father, Steve, and did her best not to collapse into the seat Dean held out for her. She felt overwhelmed with new people, and as the waiters moved around the table, pouring wine for everyone, she followed them with her eyes, trying to name each person as the waiter filled his or her glass. Distantly, she knew it didn’t really matter. It’s not as though she were actually Dean’s girlfriend, and making a good impression mattered one way or the other.
Maybe it was just that she wanted it to matter. Which was stupid. She was letting herself get caught up in the game they were playing. If she wasn’t careful, she knew it could consume her, and thus defeat the purpose of the lie—to keep people off their backs so they could enjoy their vacation.
Carly felt a gentle tap from her left. Rose, Christie’s grandmother, smiled sweetly at her. She tipped her chin first in Dean’s direction, then Luke and Matt. “I’d like to take a dip in that gene pool, if you know what I mean.” She winked and took a sip of her wine as Carly felt her eyebrows climb up her face.
Carly choked out a surprised laugh. “Uh, yeah. I think I do.”
Rose, who looked like a sweet little old lady, with her white curls, yellow linen pantsuit, pearl earrings, and pink lipstick, smiled at Carly. “If I were sixty years younger and still had my original hips, I’d take any of those men out for a test drive.” Carly sputtered on her wine, but Rose continued on. “Have you seen Matt’s butt? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.”
Unable to help herself, she let out a giggle. “I can’t say I have.”
“You’ll see, tomorrow at the beach. I’ll bring my change purse.” Rose gave her a knowing nod and polished off her wine. “I wish they’d just leave the bottle on the table. How am I supposed to keep my buzz going when they dole it out like it’s made of gold?” She shook her head and set her glass down. Leaning forward, she looked around Carly, and then eased back in her seat. She bounced her eyebrows and shot her a thumbs-up. She leaned in closer, bringing the scent of Chanel No. 5 with her. “Good for you. You must know what you’re doing to get that one to settle down.”
Carly blushed and decided not to tell Dean that even Christie’s grandmother had heard about his reputation.
Luke gently tapped his spoon against his wine glass, drawing everyone’s attention to him. He stood and smiled at his fiancée.
“Christie and I just want to thank everyone for making the trip south to be with us. It means a lot to us to have all of our closest friends and family here.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to all of you, and the days ahead.”
“Cheers!” Everyone brought their glasses together, and as they drank, Dean’s arm brushed against hers. Completely accidental, and yet it sent butterflies chasing each other through her stomach. She took another sip of wine as she wondered just what the hell she’d gotten herself into.
Chapter 4
“Dean? Are you awake?” Carly’s whispered voice came from the other side of the pillow wall she’d carefully constructed before climbing into the king-size bed. They’d been lying in the dark for nearly an hour now, the only sounds the ocean waves crashing against the beach, and the low hum of the ceiling fan. He’d wanted to turn the air-conditioning on, but Carly had asked to leave the sliding glass door that lead to the balcony open, wanting to hear the waves. He hadn’t been able to say no to her.
Then again, he’d always had a problem saying no, especially to women.
He blinked up at the ceiling, his hands folded over his stomach. “Yeah, I’m awake.”
The mattress shook beneath him as Carly moved, and then her face popped up over the pillows separating them. “You can’t sleep either?”
Her eyes were bright in the dim room. The only light was from the moonlight peeking around the curtains, and the light from the hallway spilling in under the door to their room. He turned and maneuvered himself up onto one elbow, facing her with his head propped on his hand. “No.”
She folded her arms on top of the pillows, resting her chin on her hands. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face, and he fought the sudden urge to reach out and push it back over her shoulder. “How come?”
He shrugged and couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes tracked the movement as it pulled his T-shirt taut against his chest. Shit. The truth would be a bad idea right now, wouldn’t it? He couldn’t exactly tell her that he’d been lying in the dark, wide awake, because of her. Because of how close she was, because they were in a bed together. Because his cock was hard and begging for attention it wouldn’t get—attention he wanted from her.
Lying in a bed with Carly, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to fuck her. Jesus. He really was a manwhore if he was thinking about one of his closest friends that way simply because she was in a bed with him. He shouldn’t want her, but he did. “Strange bed, I guess,” he said, shrugging again. Thankfully, he was covered by the blankets from the waist down.
She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. Same.” She didn’t say anything further, staring unfocused at something over his shoulder. Her thinking face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, wanting to knock down that damn wall of pillows and pull her closer.
She continued to stare off. “I dunno. I guess I’m just feeling weird about this whole thing.”
“About telling people that we’re dating?”
She met his eyes in the darkness. “About lying to your family. I know it’s too late now, but I just . . .” She trailed off and flopped back down onto her side of the Great Wall of Feathers.
Guilt tugged at his chest. Sure, she’d started it by blurting out that they were dating to her douche ex, but he’d been the one to encourage her to see it through instead of correcting it when they still had the chance. Because he was a selfish, confused asshole.
He edged closer to the pillows and peered down at her. “You’re overthinking it. It’ll be fine.”
She nodded, but didn’t looked convinced with her brows still drawn together. Suddenly, she pushed up onto her elbow, mirroring his earlier posture. Her face was close, close enough that he’d only have to lean forward a couple of inches to touch his lips to hers and taste her. To see if she tasted as sweet as he knew she was, deep down inside.
“Can I ask you something?” she whispered, her breath fanning against his lips. His heart throbbed in his chest, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers.
“Sure,” he said, his voice coming out huskier than he’d intended.
