Page 3 of Fake Dating the Silver Fox

“Sorry.” I lean in and spontaneously kiss her cheek, then realize what I’ve done and jerk back. “Sorry!”

She laughs, her eyes twinkling. “Cupid is really working his magic.”

My heart thuds in my chest.Is she flirting with me?

I wouldn’t think a woman like her would be interested in a man like me. She’s young, early thirties at most, and so gorgeous she could have any man.

If had more courage, I would ask her on a date, or at least ask her name.

But, my insecurities rule, and my desire to get the words down before they vanish propels me into action. “I’ve got to go.”

She calls after me to wait, but I dash into the crowd, Embarrassment combined with determination gives me wings. I push through the pedestrians and hurl myself toward home.

I can’t risk losing this story. Not even for the most beautiful woman in the world.

ChapterTwo

Mara

“What about a Weiner?”Lark asks. “Everyone loves a Weiner.”

“No.” I shake my head and scroll down, searching for the cutest, most inspirational cartoon graphic of a dog the app has to offer. “It has to be more compelling. We need people to look at the flyer and automatically reach for their wallets.”

“This one is a-doodle-able,” she says, stopping on a mixed poodle breed.

“No, no, no.” I scroll past each one in frustration.

A headache builds behind my eyes, and I thrust the phone at Lark. This event needs to be a success. Mossy Oak Animal Shelter depends on it.

Lark suddenly gasps and slaps the counter so hard a bag of treats topples over. “This is what you need!”

I rub my temples. “What?”

“A hot, dog-loving date.”

She tilts my phone at me, and I see she’s on a dating app.Holidates Dating.

“It’s an app for people who need a date for an event,” Lark says. “That’s perfect.”

“I don’t need a date to the event.” Frustration makes my voice sharper than I intend. “Sorry, but I just need a dog for the flyer. What’s a date going to do for me?”

Lark dramatically clutches her heart. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t want a handsome, dog-friendly guy on your arm at the event? Someone who melts hearts and helps raise donations?”

I bite my lip and think about it for a moment. The cutie I met at the cafe last weekend comes to mind. He would do just fine. Handsome, tall, and Cupid-approved, he would do more than fine.

But I don’t even know his name.

“I don’t think so,” I say.

But Lark isn’t giving up. “Picture it!” She lifts her arms as if painting the air. “A charming date on your arm. The perfect PR moment. Donations skyrocket.” She punctuates every word, milking the drama. “Puppies get adopted.You, finally, get some action.”

I groan. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of dating charity case.”

Lark shrugs. “If the leash fits.”

I make a grab for my phone, but Lark holds it over her head and scoots away.

She places her hand on the golden statue of a cat waving that greets customers to the grooming section of the pet shop and pretends to channel his spirit.

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