The Real Deal

“We didn’t want to stop,” he murmurs as his lips return to me. They’re sealed to my mouth, and he cages me against the brick wall. His hands are on my face, in my hair. He presses his body to mine, and that’s not fake.

He’s hard, thick, and I can feel the full length of him pressed into my belly. It’s dizzyingly sexy. It’s wildly arousing. All the dirty thoughts in my brain swirl together and combust as I imagine how it would feel to take him inside me. To wrap my legs around him. To draw him all the way in.

He pulls back, presses his forehead to mine, breathes hard. “April.” My name sounds like champagne on his tongue.

“Yeah?” I sound like a dopey, drunk fool as I wait for him to speak.





Chapter Twenty

Theo

I want to tell her the truth. A truth. Something. Anything. This fakery is eating me up. I don’t want to be like her lying ex, but I don’t want to get screwed over either.

“What? What is it?” April asks again.

Nerves prickle up my skin as I consider answering her. Telling her I’m into her. Telling her about my parents. Telling her what I did for a living years ago. I part my lips to speak because I want her to know me. Harboring secrets is too hard. They weigh you down. But as soon as I opened up to Richelle, she was done with me. No more boyfriend, and no more work. The jobs ended instantly.

I don’t want to lose this gig.

I need this gig.

But I don’t want to lose the chance to let April know that kiss was real.

I’m torn in two.

Make that three, because I also want to kiss her again. She’s candy and sex appeal, and a little something different. She’s left of center; she’s right of center. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. “I don’t know what I was going to say. Kissing you fries my brain,” I say, dodging the questions as I lean on humor.

She laughs softly, and that sound hums down my spine. How the hell is this possible? Her laughter turns me on. I dip my head to her neck. “Mmm. You taste like sunshine.”

She murmurs.

“And oranges.”

She sighs.

“And everything I shouldn’t be attracted to,” I say roughly. There it is. The admission that we’re not a thing. We’re a client and a contractor.

“I know,” she whispers, her tone wistful. “But you’re a great actor.”

“So are you.” And because I can’t resist her, I press a kiss to her soft lips for one, two, three seconds. I inhale her. “Just because.”

“That was a ‘just because’ kiss?” she asks with a lift of her eyebrow as we break apart.

“We do that a lot, don’t we?” I ask, and though we’re playing our game again, this moment feels more honest than anything with her so far. I’ve spent so much time pretending, playing, tricking, and right now, I want to ride close to the truth.

“We are the king and queen of ‘just because’ kisses,” she says, and damn, if that doesn’t make me want her more. We are like Mad Libs, filling in words to make the other laugh, to turn each other on.

I dust my lips along her jaw, to her ear. I nip her earlobe and murmur “Just because.” She moans, looping her arms around my neck. I should stop. But as she melts in my arms and I tangle my tongue with hers, stopping seems impossible. Instead, I kiss her deeper. I slide my hand through her hair, and I steal yet another kiss. Then one more. She is soft, and she tastes fantastic, and I want to strip off her clothes and kiss her everywhere. Explore her body, lick her skin, taste the hollow of her throat.

I want to watch her back arch. To know what she looks like when she’s coming. I kiss her like that. I kiss her so she knows I want to devour her. I want her wild little body under me, on me, bent over. I push my body to hers, making sure, making certain she can feel what she does to me, so she can know this is true. This is real. This is just because. I grind against her, and she moans into my mouth. I clasp her tighter, kiss her deeper, linger longer.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, there’s a bell ringing. It clangs, the sound a warning. The more I do this, the more I’ll want to do this. That’s dangerous for a guy like me. Closeness means letting down your guard. Letting someone in means you can lose everything you’re chasing. The finish line is in sight, and I need to run this race to the end.

I pull apart abruptly. I wipe my hand over my mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I mutter.

I sound like a jackass. I am a jackass.

She blinks, then knits her brow. “Then why did you kiss me?”

I clench my teeth, grind out a lie. “That’s why you wanted me here with you for the weekend. Right?”

“Right,” she says with a nod, like she’s recalling her own reasons. Her voice is sardonic. “To fight them all off.”

I pretend I don’t notice the sarcasm. “Well? Didn’t you say everyone was trying to set you up and you wanted to appear taken?”

“Yes. But.” She furrows her brow. “I…” She starts, then stops. “I don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“You.”

“Me?”

She points. “Yeah. You. You kissed me because of Calvin, right?”

“Yes, that’s what you wanted,” I say, because self-preservation is stronger right now than admitting I wanted to kiss her.

“So Calvin knew we were kissing?”

I point behind me. “He was right over there.”

She swivels around, then turns back to me and shoves a hand through those wild blond curls. Her hair is messy because of me. Her eyes are hard because of me. “Congratulations. You’ve successfully toyed with my head.”

“How?”

She rolls her eyes. “Kissing me because of Calvin. Still kissing me. Saying ‘just because.’ Seriously. This is crazy,” she says.

And even though I wanted to kiss her, that doesn’t change the rules of engagement. I let myself get carried away. I need to be smarter and safer.

She grabs the bag of tissues and parks a hand on her hip. “I’m going back to the Sunnyside. It would be great if you return in a little bit, too, and maybe act like we didn’t just have a fight, because I’m not in the mood for that.”

She turns away, and I try to shout Wait!

But the word doesn’t come.

I dig my heels into the ground, tuck my thumbs in my jeans, and let her go home.





Chapter Twenty-one

April

I stab at the buttons on my phone as I text and walk. I huff and puff, tapping out note after frustrated note, my head bent over the screen as the stores and shops become a blur beside me.




I want to laugh. But I don’t. I can’t even acknowledge her attempt at humor. I’m so flaming frustrated. I’m so dang confused. I glance up from the screen as I stalk up the street. How did I wind up here? I was so careful. Cautious. When you hire someone to be your date, it’s not supposed to turn into a deeply passionate kiss that makes your brain go hazy. At least, I don’t think so. But inside me is a tangle of emotions, a swirling mess.





I look up from the screen, breathe a big huge gulp of fresh sea air, and I hear shoes slapping the pavement. I march right into Cory.

“Oof!”

That’s literally the sound that bursts from my lips when I smack into my sister’s husband.

He removes his earbuds. “Hey! Sorry. I was so into this podcast, I didn’t see you,” he says with a smile. “Everything okay? I’m just heading to FlourChild to check on things before the games begin again.”

“Perfect,” I say as embarrassment churns through me. I’m not embarrassed that we bumped into each other. I’m embarrassed over why. I’m having a stupid fight with my unreal boyfriend, and now my sister’s real husband is asking me if I’m okay. I’m not okay. I’m annoyed that my supposed boyfriend kissed the daylights out of me, then acted like it was … Well, an act. When it wasn’t an act. But I can’t say that to Cory or anyone here. Especially since my eyes drift to his phone and I see the name of the podcast. Perking Up Your Marriage.

My face flushes pink. I wish I hadn’t peeked. I wish I didn’t know what’s on his mind. Are things that rough with Tess and Cory? Or is she just caught in the haze of an infant’s needs?

“You sure?” he asks.

I blink, refocusing on his question. “I’m great!”