Page 10 of Fake It Till You Make It

“You walk in for a job interview without a scheduled appointment or your job history?”

“I could just tell you,” she mused, that wide grin of hers aimed at him, not the least bit perturbed that she wasn’t meeting the boss’s expectations.

Eli scowled. “No, you can’t.” He had procedures in place to mitigate these types of shenanigans. His future employee, whoever it was, would appreciate the structure he provided. This Amarie person, with her disarming purple haze, had antiestablishment vibes. “Come back when you have—”

His momma chimed in, and Eli gritted his teeth at the intrusion in company business. “I’m Leah Calvary, Eli’s mother. I was just about to eat my breakfast. Would you care for a cup of coffee, Amarie?”

Her face split into a wide grin like she’d been offered a winning lottery ticket. “That would be divine. Thank you.”

Not to be outdone, Noah added his two non-cents. “We have one homemade biscuit left.”

“One… wait a darn minute,” Eli protested. Now they’d offered up his meal to an unqualified applicant.

Tobias started to cough, a fluffy biscuit suspended inches from his full mouth. “Can’t eat just one.”

“Coffee and biscuits. You’re speaking my love language,” she rasped, accepting Noah’s hand and doing what could only be described as a sashay. She smiled when she passed his stony form, her crisp scent of fresh apples and summer honey teasing his nostrils. “I like your benefits package already.”

No, this couldn’t be his Monday. This woman, this stranger who’d walked into his home, unprepared, and stayed for breakfast—an epic violation of policy. Whether his or the company’s, it was unclear, but Amarie Walker was the absolute wrong person for the job.

Chapter Three

AMARIE MAY HAVEdone herself a disservice by agreeing to breakfast… and basking in Eli’s sour mood while consuming an obscene amount of crisped-to-perfection bacon. In her defense, it would have been rude to refuse her future employer’s mother—and the smell of fresh-baked bread that filled the air had left her salivating. She attributed the momentary lapse in professionalism to sleep deprivation, Eli harping on her unpreparedness, and straight-up hunger. The Calvarys—except for Eli—had peppered her with conversation about the nearby waterfall, the locally grown fresh market in the town mall, and the Coffee Bean Barn, which was good but not better than Leah’s supplier from the computer. As if the gateway to the World Wide Web was a physical place. How fun was that? Social media was Amarie’s happy space, too.

The rapid fire of kitchen table conversation among the family over a shared meal was like a championship tennis match. Amarie devoured every lob and volley with increasing delight. Their open affection for one another stirred painful reminders of how her childhood home life had fractured allthose years ago. Self-expression. Acceptance. Family. The things Amarie wanted but had never received were visibly important to the Calvary family. Noah had won her over with his boyish charm and those hypnotic kaleidoscope peepers. But she wasn’t fooled by his playboy façade—he’d experienced heartbreak of the highest order. Tobias, with his summer storm–blue eyes and slow smile, was watchful but engaging, and harder to read with her social barometer. The real jewel in the lot, her new insta-bestie, was Leah Calvary, a sage beauty imbued with a mother’s comforting presence.

And then there was Eli. A brooding menace and crusher of high hopes.

He stood in the bay window overlooking the kitchen table, glaring at her like a stone-face Greek warrior, sunlight painting his raven mane and full beard to a lustrous sheen before fading against his tan skin. Amarie ignored him, or rather pretended to, but his damp black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, hugging his biceps tighter than a rock band groupie. And the jeans—whew—gripped his tight butt and long legs like a male stripper costume. He disappeared out a back door off the kitchen, returning moments later with a dark golden retriever, which was dancing, playful energy in abundance, around his feet.

“Here, boy,” Eli said, scratching the dog behind the ears before giving his dense coat a gentle rub. Amarie watched the brute of a man soften, the brackets around his mouth vanishing as he led his pet to an aluminum water bowl. Maybe there was an actual human being she could work with cocooned beneath his steely exterior.

Without a word, he resumed his post, arms crossed under impressive pecs and an equally impressive scowl twisting his too-gorgeous features. Or maybe not. Obnoxiousreally, on his part, to parade that face and those muscles in front of an unemployed woman with a wounded heart. Though she couldn’t see his rippled abdomen, she knew it was there, lurking beneath the surface to blindside her. All of it—the shirt, the jeans, the large feet hidden in scuffed leather boots—was a desperate plea for attention. But Amarie couldn’t afford to be distracted by a well-toned body. Her interest in Eli Calvary stopped at employment. He could save his Magic Mike quick-pull Velcro seams for a high-wage earner who had the time to fall victim to overt masculine attractiveness. She was immune to handsome men—happy dogs who nudged her thigh, not so much.

“Aw,” she crooned, blowing air kisses at the canine pawing her shoes. “Your pup is so cute. What’s the name?”

The question seemed to further irritate Eli. How could it possibly be annoying to compliment his pet? She would be working with animals—in his clinic—and he should be impressed rather than agitated.

“His name is Hiccup,” Noah answered, placing his cup in the sink. “He likes pretty ladies as much as I do,” he teased.

Noah, the obvious flirt, Amarie already adored. Though she didn’t feel a spark of attraction, she believed he could be a really good friend. “You’re leaving?” she asked.

“Duty calls, darling.”

He winked before walking toward a hallway adjacent to the refrigerator that Amarie hadn’t noticed. She wasn’t sure where it led, but it was closest to the veterinary practice. Perhaps it was the breezeway she’d noticed from the house’s exterior.

Lifting her free hand, Amarie waved goodbye, having enjoyed the youngest Calvary brother’s company. “Talk with you later.”

The firefighter stopped mid-stride. Slowly he pivoted onhis heel, facing her, a devilish grin crossing his full lips. “I’d be happy to strike up a conversation with you—”

“Noah,” Eli rumbled, the sound rough and jagged.

Red bloomed on Eli’s neck, spreading like wildfire to consume his face. Huh, that couldn’t be good. His tone had dropped several octaves, and Amarie swore she heard an undercurrent of menace.

“The gentleman doth protest too much.” Noah laughed.

Eli’s green eyes darkened in color, the fine lines bracketing them deepened. The air seemed to spark with territorial energy. Tobias’s eyes were fixed on his brothers as if ready to intervene—and Leah had an odd sparkle in her gaze. Maybe talking had a different meaning in Service.

As fast as the flame ignited, it cooled, and Eli’s lips twisted into a lopsided grin. “Shut up, stupid.”