Page 10 of One Summer Weekend
“So am I. I don’t need to remember our lives. I just need to remember the part about Valentine’s Day and the horror movie and one thing leading to another.”
“And maybe not mention that guy you were dating a couple of months ago.”
Carly groaned. “I went ononedate with him. Trust me, that was enough.”
As the elevator creaked along, she felt his hand brush her ass. For a few seconds, she thought it was an accident. There wasn’t a lot of room to move around in the tight space, which she was trying really hard not to think about. But his hand lingered, his fingertips a light pressure just south of the imaginary line between the small of her back and her ass.
“Noah, you’re touching my butt.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,whyare you touching my butt?”
“Boyfriends do that. Jeez, Carly. What kind of guys have you been dating?”
He knew very well she hadn’t been dating too much lately except that one dinner. “You’re myfakeboyfriend. And nobody can see us right now.”
“Oh.” His hand fell away. “Practicing, I guess.Ormaybe it’s the ghost of the original owner and he randomly possesses guests in order to touch butts for all eternity.”
“You’re funny.” She elbowed him hard in the ribs. “Are you planning to touch my butt a lot in front of your boss? And his future bride? And their families?”
“You do have a pretty great butt, you know. People will think it’s weird if I don’t touch it.”
The elevator finally let them out, which put a welcome end to the butt-touching conversation. They knew the patio was on the backside of the inn, so they headed in that direction and had no trouble finding an ornate sign outside a set of French doors.
Noah touched the handle but hesitated before opening the door. “Before we go in there, you know this job is wicked important to me, right?”
“I do know that.” She touched his arm so he’d look at her. Maybe somebody who hadn’t known him for his entire life wouldn’t notice, but she could see the anxiety written all over his face. “Relax, Noah. The only lie we have to remember is that we’ve been romantically dating for six months. I don’t have to pretend I love you or that we have great times together or that I think you’re the greatest guy in the world. You’re my best friend, remember?”
The stress melted away and he gave her a very typical Noah grin. “I remember.”
“We’ve got this.”
He must have believed her because he opened the door and gestured for her to go in first. There were a ton of people in front of her and, for the first time, her confidence in their ability to pull off this operation wavered. The amount of small talk this crowd would generate could slip them up. She stepped quickly to the side so Noah could follow her in, and she was thankful when his hand closed around hers, their fingers threading together.
And then she remembered it was a fake gesture. Everybody in this inn thought they were a couple and he was just putting on a show.
“Jim and Emily are over there by the bar. They’re the two glowing people holding hands. And Sara’s standing next to Emily.”
The bride and groom were a good-looking couple. Jim had short brown hair and was dressed much like Noah was. Emily was slim, with her long black hair making a stark contrast to the white sundress she was wearing. She laughed at something her almost-husband said and he looked down at her with so much love on his face, it was almost painful to watch.
Sara, sister of the bride, was a stunner. She had the same black hair as Emily, but was taller and slightly curvier. With her flawless skin and a floral sundress with strappy sandals showing off killer legs, she probably turned heads everywhere she went.
“Explain something to me,” she whispered to Noah after glancing around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard. “They’re trying to fix you up withherand you said no?”
“It’s a trap.” He leaned in closer so he could keep his voice low. “If I go out with her and she likes me, I’ve got one foot down the aisle.”
“I think that’s your weird aversion to marriage talking.”
“There’s nothing weird about it. Your active hunt for a husband, though. Now that’s weird.”
“It’s a small town with a limited dating pool. I just want to get a head start. It’s not like I want to get married next week. But I want to have kids while Grandad’s still young enough to teach them to fish.”
“Well, I don’t want to get married next week, either, which is why I’m going to put my hand on your butt again.”
“If you think touching a woman’s butt is the best way to signal you’re in a relationship with her, it explains why you can’t keep a girlfriend. And we’re digressing. She totally looks like your type.” Mostly because he didn’t have a type, other than liking—or maybeneedingwas a better word—a sense of humor.
“They see us.” His fingers tightened around hers so painfully, she wondered if her fingertips were turning purple or had gone straight to white. “Jim’s waving us over.”
