in “I’m pretty sure I should stop looking at her body unless I want my dick to start standing at attention” kind of hot.
“My boat could use some TLC, and I have my hands full with other repairs. I wouldn’t complain about some help with the engine.”
“So, you want free labor? Which I normally charge a pretty penny for?”
“Essentially, yes.”
“That’s all?” she probes, and I nod. “And you’ll pretend to be my boyfriend for the wedding and leading up to it?”
“Yep.”
“Even after meeting my family?”
“Yeah,” I reiterate.
She tilts her head. “This is too easy…I don’t trust it.”
“Well, you should, because I’m being serious. I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend or whatever you need if you help me with my boat.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. We’ll need to set a few rules, but that seems like a given.”
She nods. “That’s a wise decision. Hand me that wrench and talk.”
I grab said wrench off the nearby toolbox and hand it to her. I watch as she steps onto a stool, her legs so short she needs the extra inches to reach the SUV she’s currently working on. She stretches over the front end and reaches for something near the back.
“Let’s start with the timeline. How long will we have to do this thing?”
“Well, my brother’s wedding is next month, so at least that long. Maybe a week after so it doesn’t look like I hired you to be my boyfriend.”
“Makes sense,” I agree. “How many times will you need me before the big day?”
She sighs, shoving away from the car and throwing her hands up. “I don’t know, Sully. Probably a few. I’m the best man. While my brother is in town, I’m sure we’ll have family things like dinners and such. Since she’s met you, my mom will ride my ass to invite you. Plus, we’ll probably want to hang out a few times and get to know each other so it’s believable.”
“Right, believable that we’re dating and not just friends, because instead of saying something like, Oh, hey, Mom, this is my date to Jonas’ wedding, you threw out the B word, making this incredibly overly complicated.”
She groans. “Why do you keep reminding me of my mistakes? I’m not sitting here going on about how you just made a sexist assumption regarding my profession and grabbed my tit, am I?”
I don’t say anything, because let’s face it, both of those situations were embarrassing as hell.
“That’s what I thought,” she continues. “I could just confess to my mother that you’re not my boyfriend and I made the whole thing up, but you saw her. She was—”
“Ecstatic,” I say, thinking back to her mom’s reaction to my existence. She looked so pleased that her two children were in happy, committed relationships. If Thea’s relationship with her mother is anything like the one I have with mine, she’d do anything to see her happy.
Like essentially hire some random dude to be her boyfriend for her brother’s wedding.
“First rule,” she says when she realizes I won’t rag on her anymore. “No pet names.”
“So no more babe?”
I don’t miss the way she swallows thickly. “No more babe.”
“I’m surprised it’s not No trying to sleep with me.”
She peeks her head up, smirking. “I believe I’ve drilled that into you enough.”
“Speaking of drilling…”
Her eyes widen, and I laugh.
“No drilling me about my past.”
She rises until she’s standing. “Okay, that rule just makes you sound shady as fuck.”
“It doesn’t involve me.” I shrug. “Just my family. I don’t like talking about them.”
She nods. “I can respect that boundary, and since we’re making rules like that, no getting close with mine.”
“So always decline invitations to hang out and look like a total jackass—got it.”
“Shit. When you put it like that…” She pulls at her lips, not caring about the dirt on her hands or the fact that it’s making a mess on her face. “Okay, fine. You can accept invitations and stuff, but don’t be all…chummy.”
“Chummy?”
“You know, like don’t be all buddy-buddy laughing and having a good time.”
“So make them hate me.”
“Oh!” She snaps her fingers. “That’s perfect! It’ll make our breakup more believable!”
I frown, and she blows out a breath.
“Fine. Whatever. Just be yourself. For all I know you, you suck.”
“And you wouldn’t know because I’m a stranger.”
She pins me with a stare. “Rule three…”
“I think we’re on like four now or something.”
“Sully…”
I laugh. “Sorry, continue.”
“Rule…whatever. No kissing on the mouth, and no getting handsy. You can hold my hand or put your arm around me and like kiss my