Page 9 of Fake Fiancé, Real Wedding
And with that, he and his wife turn and stride away. For an elderly couple, they moved like fucking ninjas. Does he even need that cane?
Sucking in a deep breath, I turn my attention to Del.
The dusk light falls over her, the darkening golden hues turning her hair to a honey blaze and highlighting her lush curves.
As if aware of my gaze, she looks over her shoulder again.
Our eyes connect. My heart thumps harder.
Hell, she’s gorgeous.
And now your fiancée.
Filling my lungs with oxygen, I head over to her.
Both she and Stephanie, the bride, stop talking and watch me.
My heart smashes faster in my chest, as if I’m going into combat. I’m not. I’m just…
Going to ask a woman who called you a jerk but has somehow got so far under your skin that your cock is in a permanent semi-hard state to continue to pretend to be your fiancée so you can finalize a property deal she has nothing to do with.
My gut knots.
Chin tilting, Del’s stare clashes with mine. “Hi, future wife,” I say with a relaxed grin as I draw to a halt in front of her. Maybe I can charm my way through this?
Yeah, charm has never been one of my strengths.
The woman beside her, definitely family in some way, giggles. “Oh, this is fun.”
Del rolls her eyes. “You’re not helping, Stevie.”
Stephanie—Stevie—thrusts out her hand, grinning up at me. “Hi, I’m Del’s cousin. She tells me you almost ran her off the road, rescued a truckful of baby animals, and she’s now your fiancée so you can buy this place?”
I let out a low chuckle, even as relief punches me in the chest. I look at Del. “You’re okay with doing that? The fiancée thing?”
She bites her bottom lip, sighs, and shrugs. “Why not.”
“Excellent.” Stevie grins. “After my bachelorette party, she’s all yours. Tell me, Mr…”
“McKenzie,” I supply.
“Tell me, Mr. McKenzie,” Stevie says. “Are you good at being protective?”
Del groans, planting her face in her hands. “Oh, God, Stevie. Shut up.”
A tingle of tension slips up my spine. “Protective?”
“Del has an Instagram fan who’s discovered her phone number,” Stevie says. “And I’m a bit worried. She needs someone to look after her, and I’m getting married the day after tomorrow, so it can’t be me.”
“Stevie,” Del growls. “Stop.”
“Instagram fan?” I frown. Is she famous? An influencer? “Are you in danger? Have you blocked them? Called the police?”
“Stevie is being dramatic,” She slides a scowl at her cousin. “I’m not in danger. I just don’t know how they got my phone number, is all.”
Tension coiling in my gut, I scan the area around us. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Good grief, Lachlan.” She throws up her hands and rolls her eyes. “Why would they behere? Now, if it’s okay with you,fiancé, I’m going to go finish making my cousin look like a fairy and then go party my sizeable butt off. You can go and—” she rakes a look at me from head to toe to head “—do whatever it is you do until you need me to be your adoring, besotted bride-to-be again.”
