“Oh?”
“Yeah, I’m filling in for a friend as a guest spot in the local orchestra. Should be fun. I haven’t done that for a bit,” he explains.
“Wow. That’s cool. Let me know when. I’d love to see you play,” I reply, because that’s the neighborly thing to do, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
He opens the door and pauses, looking back at me with a wide smirk on his face. “Marry, huh?”
“Oh, God. You heard that?” I say as my face goes from warm to fire-hot.
“I’ll let Bray know he has great lips. He’ll love that. And Hutch is a giver, is he?” he teases. I don’t want to admit his lips are also kissable. I’m staring at them right now and I quickly look away because I know he saw me do it.
When I look back, I glare at him. “It was just a dumb game,” I explain.
“Was it now?” He pauses and keeps the smirk on his face, and it makes my blood boil. Damn, this man can really get under my skin.
“Yes,” I mutter, my jaw clenching.
“Oh, uh, Pierce is having a dinner party on Tuesday.” He pauses and looks toward the back of the store where Jocelyn is pretending to be busy. “Is that OK?”
“Oh, uh, OK,” I stammer.
“Just wanted to give you a heads-up since that wasn’t in the plans,” he explains.
I nod. “That’s fine. We can talk on the way there or whatever.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at five. See you later, wifey,” he adds as he gives me a wink and walks out of my store.
“Wifey!” Jocelyn squeals.
“Chill, Joc. He’s being a prick. Anyhow, who cares? Things can’t get any more embarrassing around him, right?”
“I guess not. Thank God you didn’t say fuck him because that would be hella funnier,” she says as she goes back to folding things.
“Right, yeah,” I mumble under my breath. Why does my fake boyfriend have to be so hot? And why does he have a knack for getting under my skin? I don’t really want to answer either of those questions, I decide as I get back to work, trying my best tonotthink about Grayson Porter and his kissable lips.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Grayson
I stand outside the Happily Ever Afters Romance Bookstore. I can see inside now. As much as I hate admitting all that noise was for a good cause, I do see the fruits of Roxy’s labor. The store is well done. I dare say I might be proud of this woman. To accomplish something this big before you’re even thirty is, well, fucking impressive. I’m just turning thirty in a few months and I’m still hoping that this big break catapults my music-composing career. Fuck, I’d love to rub that in my parents’ faces.
My thoughts are interrupted as I see movement in the store. I turn my head slowly and I feel the breath leave my body.
Roxy is wearing a wrap dress, and it dips low in front at the bottom of the “v” which shows off her perfect breasts, or at least what I think are perfect from what I’m seeing. Damn it. I need to stop ogling her. Fake. Girlfriend. I remind myself.
She pushes open the door and smiles at me. “Your fake girlfriend is ready.”
“You look lovely,” I say politely as I hold out an elbow for her. I see her stare at my arm for a long moment. She bites her lip as if she’s unsure if she should touch me. I move my elbow a bit. “Your chariot awaits,” I add, motioning to my car that’s parked just a few buildings past ours.
“Oh, right,” she answers as she cautiously loops her arm in mine. We walk silently down a half block, and I unlock the car with my fob and open the passenger door for her.
“Wow. Such service for not being a real boyfriend,” she says.
I put a hand on my chest. “I’ve been demoted! I thought we were married.”
She blushes and I fight a smirk because I love teasing her.
“Shush. We’re going to forget you ever heard that, starting right now,” she says as she places her long legs inside my car.