Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
We say nothing for a beat—just hold each other’s gazes. It’s like everyone disappears. Everything feels heady, hazy, like we’re the only ones in the whole ballroom.
But I have to remember—we’re here for show.
For Bibi. For his sister, Caroline. For Shay. For all the people who want to match this man with someone when he doesn’t want that. When he simply wants to be a businessman and a father.
I nod toward his aunt, chatting by the Christmas tree with a group of well-dressed people, then run a hand down his arm and whisper, “Let’s make sure Bibi knows how very taken you are.”
He showed up for me at the shower. It’s my turn to show up for him.
“Stake your claim, Fable,” he says, those lush lips crooking up in a slight grin.
We make our way through the crowd, and as Wilder says hi to players, advertisers, and business associates, he loops an arm tighter around me. Runs his fingers over my back. Brushes a strand of hair off my shoulder. I shiver with each touch while my mind burns with hot memories of the other day in his office. Yes, that office kiss got all the tension out of my system. And it made us so much more believable.
Finally when we get nearer to Bibi, Wilder looks almost drunk on me. I feel a little euphoric, too, from his touches. Even though they’re for show, they feel so good.
When we reach her table, Wilder leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek, scratchy, warm, and all kinds of tingly. It sends sparks down my spine.
“You’re so affectionate tonight,” I say, loving each of his sweet nothings. He’s really pulling out all the stops.
“You bring it out in me,” he says, then meets his aunt’s eyes. “Can I refill your drink?” There are servers for that, but she says yes anyway.
When he leaves for the bar, Bibi offers me a small smile. “He certainly seems quite taken.”
It’s the same thing Josie, Maeve, and Everly said but I’m not going to let it go to my head. Wilder’s acting the part and, like in most things he does, he excels at it.
“The feeling is mutual,” I say.
“Good,” she says, and that’s reassuring too—that we’re pulling this off.
When Wilder returns, I slide up to him. If she thinks it’s good that he’s taken with me, I’ll give her good. I’ll give her the best. “Hi, sugar plum.”
“Missed you, little elf,” he says, using the nickname again, but this time with a little more…warmth, or maybe sexiness. Works for me.
Bibi tilts her head, watching us with those sharp gray eyes. We must look quite the couple. Arms wrapped around each other, hands on each other, dove eyes.
And…hell.
We’re selling it too hard. We went over the top with the affection and the cutesy names.
He’s staking his claim too much.
I’m doing the same. This is bad, and I didn’t even realize I was careening down this rocky path.
I can only hope Bibi doesn’t notice, but she locks eyes with him and says in a too-observant, too-inquisitive tone, “This is so interesting. I’ve never seen you like this before with a woman, wild child.”
He straightens, not quite alarmed, but clearly a little concerned. “Like what?” For the first time, worry tremors his voice.
“So affectionate.”
Uh-oh.
“Fable brings it out in me,” he says, fast on his feet.
“I’ll say,” Bibi observes with a smile. But she studies us like she’s trying to find the flaw in a reproduction of a painting. “It’s fascinating. And so lovely to see.”
But is it? Or is she onto us? I need that handbook now more than ever since I think we just violated a rule.
23
BIG EYES AND FUNNY BODIES
Wilder
That can’t happen again.
A mistake like that will expose our game to my shrewd aunt. I can’t risk Bibi’s disappointment and that’s reason enough to work on a new fake romance plan to ensure zero mistakes. The next morning, as I take an early phone call for a year-end meeting with the renewable energy division an idea hits me. A list for Fable and me to keep us on track during the Christmas week. And we can discuss it on the drive to Evergreen Falls later this morning.
An hour later, before I leave my home, I set out some kibble for Penguin in the kitchen and give her a scratch on the head. “The cat sitter will come by and bring you more food.”
She rubs up against my leg, purring loudly. I take some photos of her, like I usually do. Since she always likes seeing the cat, I send a couple to Mac who’s in school today, then at her mom’s till tomorrow morning. I pet the feline some more, Fable’s words echoing in my mind. Your cat is obsessed with you.
Maybe I understand obsession a little these days.