Page 66 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

Nine days until Valentine's Day, and the sun hasn't quite reached the mountain cabin's frost-covered windows. The winter storm that drove us inside has transformed the landscape into something from a snow globe

Pristine white drifts pile against ancient pines. Icicles catch the pre-dawn light like crystal wind chimes.

And the first thing I notice upon waking is warmth – the fire's burned low but Grayson radiates heat like some sort of efficiently-designed space heater.

His body is pressed firmly against mine, his long frame curled protectively around me on the obscenely comfortable couch. His dark hair is adorably mussed, silver temples catching the grey morning light, and there's something about seeing Seattle's most controlled tech CEO looking so... undone that makes my chest tight.

The second thing I notice is how perfectly we fit together – my back against his chest, his arm draped possessively across my waist, our legs tangled beneath the cashmere throw that definitely costs more than my car. He's still wearing thoseridiculously expensive flannel pants, while I'm swimming in his Stanford t-shirt, the soft fabric carrying his cologne in a way that makes focusing difficult. His hand rests gently on my stomach.

The third thing I notice is Emily Hanning's increasingly urgent emails lighting up my phone, bringing reality crashing back with all the subtlety of an avalanche.

Feature deadline approaching. Sources say your relationship with Seattle's most eligible tech bachelor has revolutionized the dating scene. Care to comment on merging traditional matchmaking with modern algorithms?

The real world intrudes worse than a wine stain on an expensive Tom Ford shirt. With a sigh, I start to move, but Grayson's arm tightens around me, pulling me closer to him. His breath is warm on my neck, his voice a low growl.

"Your heart rate's up,” he murmurs against my neck, his lips brushing against my skin. "Calculating possible causes..."

"Don't you dare start with tech geek-speak right now," I whisper, my voice already breathy.

His laugh rumbles through both our bodies, and I can feel his chest vibrate against my back. "Would you prefer a more hands-on analysis?" he asks, his hand sliding down from my stomach to my hip, his fingers digging gently into my flesh.

Before I can respond (preferably with something witty and not at all affected by the way he's trailing kisses down my shoulder), my phone buzzes again. This time it's Dani:

EMERGENCY. New client (professional feng shui consultant) just rearranged entire lobby according to "optimal chi flow." William's baking station now faces northeast. Claims it will improve his sourdough's spiritual alignment.

“Dani again?” Grayson asks between kisses, his hand now sliding up my thigh, pushing the t-shirt aside.

"Just the usual chaos," I manage to say, my breath hitching as his fingers brush against the apex between my thighs. I showhim the text. "Though I have to admit, spiritual sourdough is a new one."

"We could stay here," he suggests, pulling me even closer, his hips pressing against mine. I can feel his arousal, hard and insistent against my back. "Let the feng shui revolution sort itself out..."

"Very unprofessional of you," I gasp, as his hand moves to cup my breast, his thumb brushing against my nipple.

"Completely inefficient," he agrees, his voice a gritty sigh. But his smile makes my chest tight. "Though I'm starting to think some inefficiencies are worth exploring."

Another email from Emily:Sources suggest Heart & Soul's traditional approach is being enhanced by SecureMatch's technology. Exclusive feature could position you as the future of matchmaking. What do you say, Ms Carpenter?

My mind races over that last part.

“The future of matchmaking.”

The kind of publicity that could keep Heart & Soul relevant long after our fake relationship ends. After Grayson goes back to his algorithms and I go back to...what? Pretending last night never happened?

“I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head,” Grayson observes, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me properly. The morning light does unfair things to his already perfect bone structure. His whiskey-brown eyes are dark with desire, his lips slightly parted. "Want to share your data analysis?"

"Just wondering how this fits into your optimization protocols," I say, my voice barely a whisper as his hand slides down my body, his fingers finding their way beneath the t-shirt.

"It doesn't," he says, his voice rough. "That's what makes it interesting."

"Interesting enough to disrupt your careful systems?" Mybreath hitches as his fingers find their mark, stroking me gently.

Instead of answering, he kisses me – the kind of kiss that erases rational thought. I arch into him, tangling my fingers in his beautiful, mussed hair as he pulls me closer, his fingers moving in rhythm with his tongue.

My phone buzzes again.

Dani:Update: Feng shui guy says office door faces wrong direction for maximal romance energy. Currently reinstalling it while William bakes crystal-infused croissants.

"Ignore it," Grayson murmurs against my mouth, his fingers moving faster. “It would be very professional for us to maintain focus on immediate priorities."

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