Page 39 of The Trouble with Love and Ink
“I can’t go to Costa Rica.” I dropped the takeout box on my desk, too ruffled to eat another bite.
“Why? Do you not have a passport?” He frowned like I’d shattered his entire plan with a technicality.
But I did have a passport. I’d gone to Mexico with my mom and Hailey after graduation. It was the last vacation I’d taken—if you didn’t count our trip to Waco a couple of years ago, which I didn’t since I’d gotten food poisoning and spent the entirety of the weekend glued to the toilet in our Airbnb.
“No. I have a passport. But I can’t miss work to fly across the world for a wedding.”
“It’s only a three-hour flight, and I’ll pay for it. You could fly out that Saturday morning and be back on Sunday. You wouldn’t even have to miss work since that’s what you are so worried about.”
“What I’m worried about is pretending to be your girlfriend, Beck.” I laughed, a hysterical thing. “It is a terrible idea.”
“Probably.” A grin pulled wide across Beck’s face. “But I think that’s my decision to make since you owe me one.”
My jaw dropped. I knew it. I knew that favor was going to come back to bite me. “Somehow, I feel like fake dating goes beyond that scope. That’s like saying I owe you a kidney because I ate the last pop-tart in the pantry.”
“Oh really, because I think fake dating is the perfect cash-in for going along with your fake identity.”
I did owe him. There was no denying he’d been extra cool by not telling his sister about me. “Fine,” I huffed. When his lips curved in victory, I put up my hand to halt the joy. “But we should set some ground rules.”
He sat back in his chair. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll hold your hand. Quick hugs are fine.” I couldn’t help it. My gaze fell to his full lips. I snapped my eyes back to his. “But kissing is off the table.”
“Rule number one: no kissing.” He pondered something. “What about dancing? I only ask because we are going to a wedding, after all.”
The thought of my body pressed against Beck’s made me dizzy. But I shook that off. It would be sweet wedding music, not ass-shaking club soundtracks. “Dancing is fine, but hands should remain at respectable cotillion-like positions.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “Anything else?”
“I want a separate hotel room for the night of the wedding.”
“Done. We’ll have to be sneaky when we part ways for the night, but it shouldn’t be an issue.”
I was sure we needed more ground rules, but I couldn’t think of anything else. “Fine,” I said, sticking out my hand for him to shake. “I’ll be your fake date for the shower and the wedding.”
Beck leaned in, his hand engulfing mine.
My skin tingled as I shook hands with the enemy.
Chapter 12
Icrossed the shadow cast from the awning of the Galveston Atteridge—the venue for Victoria and Doug’s wedding shower. My lunch roiled in my stomach.
At two hundred dollars an hour, I would be lettering for an Atteridge in front of all her friends and family. It was too much money for my worth. It was too much fame for me—Emily Lane, who worked in a cubicle and ate too much Chinese takeout and considered writing addresses on envelopes a fun night.
On top of lettering for one Atteridge, I’d be fake dating another. We’d previously agreed Beck would pick me up for the shower. I hadn’t thought much of it when we’d made the plans, but sitting in Beck’s Audi, engulfed in his scent, not even an arm’s length away from him, had me questioning all the choices that had led me there.
How was I supposed to avoid the pull of his attraction when we’d be spending so much time together?
I took a steadying breath as the air conditioning of the lobby hit my cheeks.
I’m trying on Hailey’s life, I reminded myself. And Hailey would love fake dating a hot guy. And she most certainly would not sweat doing a live lettering event for the first time. Instead, she’d hold her head high and stride in like she owned the place.
The handle of the rolling crate slipped from my grip as soon as I crossed the threshold of the ballroom. I knew this would be a nice event. I knew Victoria had the funds to throw a big party.
But this.
This was the very picture of luxury.
