Page 49 of The Marriage Deal
Lilah leans in close to me. I catch the unmistakable scent that isallher. “Who’s marrying who now?”
Madelyn snaps her wide eyes to Lilah. “No, girl. Just no.”
Lilah laughs. I fucking hate that I love the sound.
She bends to pull a mint green and white striped tote bag from under the shade of the table where the three dogs are sprawled, leashes tied to the leg of the table. She opens it and produces a platter of mini egg salad, ham and Swiss, and turkey and cheese sandwiches. Next is a platter of meat, cheese, pickles, and olives.
“I didn’t know you’d be bringing a friend, but I made extra anyway. There should be enough.” She pulls a bag of ketchup chips from the tote and opens it before tugging three bottles of water from the deep. “I only have three waters, though.”
Madelyn reaches across the table to swipe two. “Y’all can share one, since you’re already swapping spit and all that.”
Lilah glares at her friend. “Snapping back now, are we?”
“Always.” Madelyn shoots her an air kiss that Lilah replies to with a roll of her eyes. She plucks one of the egg salad sandwiches from the platter.
Nash follows, taking a massive bite. He groans. “Pickles. She puts pickles in her egg salad.” He shoves the last of the sandwich into his mouth. “I’d marry her too, just for that.”
Unable to help myself, I swipe one of the sandwiches. I pop the whole damn thing in my mouth. It’s good. Really damn good.
I finish chewing and swallow. I scoot closer to my fake fiancée at the same time I hook her around the waist to tug her closer.
I drop my chin into the crook of her neck and murmur, “Thought you couldn’t cook?”
Lilah scoffs, but she blushes sweetly. “I’d hardly call a platter of sandwiches cooking.”
“Men aren’t hard to please.” Nash reaches for another sandwich. “You could make him one of these every night for the rest of your lives and he’d die a happy man.”
Madelyn rolls her eyes to the sky. “Where, oh where, are the men who are easy to please? Because the men I’ve dated are all drama kings.”
Nash’s eyes shift to her and there’s something inthem that calls a crawl of red from her chest and then into her face. He says rougher than I’ve ever heard him say before, “You’ve been with the wrong men, sweetheart.”
Beside me, Lilah chokes on her sandwich. I uncap the water and hand it to her, watching as she takes a big swallow. Her hand connects with her chest, and she gives her friend big eyes.
They’ll be talking later about Nash, that’s for sure.
I’ll be talking to Nash later. But now I send him a look that says,don’t mess with my fake fiancée’s friend.
He sees the look. I know Nash well enough to know he sees and reads the look.
He ignores the look.
Shithead.
I return my hand to the small of Lilah’s back where I’d left it after pulling her closer. I don’t miss the way her spine straightens or the little intake of breath she pulls. I let my thumb drift absently up and down. There’s nothing absent about it, though. Every stroke is intentional.
Lilah leans forward to reach into the chip bag. When she settles back into my touch again, I don’t miss the shiver she tries to hide or the gooseflesh that pebbles her skin.
I lean in to murmur low, “Cold?”
Her eyes slide sideways to land on me, flashing bright. “There’s a breeze.”
Nash and Madelyn are busy bickering. I’m notpaying enough attention to them to know what about. My attention is fixed exclusively on my fake fiancée.
I lean in closer. The scent of her invades my space.Invades me.
“It’s thirty degrees Celsius.”
“I run cold.”
