Page 12 of Heartsmashed
“Why do you seem surprised?”
Why? Because I’d just hired this man to be my fake boyfriend, and not only was he going to make Peter absolutely miserable, I had a feeling he was going to help make this next week survivable.
“Well, I just met a stranger, pitched him my unhinged plan to make my ex jealous and keep me from throwing myself off a bridge, and now he’s—you’re—on board with it. You’re not even a little bit concerned?”
“What should I be concerned about?”
“Uh, maybe the fact that I just trauma-dumped on you and asked you to meet my entire family five minutes later?”
Beckett’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve got it.”
Shit.
I’ve got it,that same calm certainty that quieted everything in me for half a second before my brain kicked back in and started overthinking it.
“You keep saying that,” I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. “I’m starting to wonder if I’m not the most batshit bonkers person you’ve had to deal with.”
His mouth twitched again and his eyes crinkled in amusement. “I didn’t say that.”
I laughed and dragged a hand through my hair. “Fair enough. Guess we’ll revisit this conversation after the week is over, then, and see if you’ve changed your mind.”
The waitress stopped by our table again, glancing at our almost-empty drinks. “Another round for you two?”
I’d already gotten what I came for, and staying longer put me at risk of Beckett changing his mind.
“Just the check is fine,” I said, reaching for my wallet.
“I’ve got it.” Beckett was already handing the waitress his card, and I shook my head.
“Damn. You’re either incredibly good at your job or I just got very, very lucky. Thank you, Beckett.”
Something flickered in his expression then. Subtle, but it was there.
“Maybe both,” he said.
Fuuuck me.I was gonna be thinking about that later. Or immediately. Probably immediately.
I forced myself to look away from his eyes before I could get stuck there, and finished off the rest of my drink.
This was really happening. Thank God for drunk me last night or I’d be in a bad way tonight.
“Well, Sawyer,” he said, as he signed the credit card slip and ripped off the end of it. Then he wrote down his phone number and held it out to me. But when I reached for it, he didn’t let go. “It looks like we’ll be seeing each other again soon.”
A week in the Catskills. My ex. Beckett. Yeah, Peter was absolutely going to hate him, and a smile spread across my face at the thought.
“This might actually work,” I said, more to myself than to Beckett.
“Oh, it’ll work.” Beckett’s gaze never left mine, and my stomach did that weird flipping thing again.
And for the first time since everything with Peter had blown up in my face…I actually believed it.
5
BECKETT
THE HORN BLASTED out of the deep blue Range Rover idling in front of my apartment, followed by Sawyer sticking his head out the driver’s-side window and shouting, “Pick a lane, fuckwad,” at the car that’d barely missed his bumper.
I watched, amused, as he shook his head, muttering to himself while he got out of the car and popped the trunk. It wasn’t until he did a double take at me standing on the curb that he froze mid-step.
