Fabricated Christmas - Glenna Maynard Page 0,29

or focus on what I was saying.

“Perfect. Hold that expression.” Click. Click. The photographer shifts positions. “Now lean in. Closer. You can’t live without her. You want to kiss her.”

Wilder parts his lips, his fresh minty breath fans over mine. Brushing a thumb along my lip, he holds my gaze. I swallow hard. A gust of wind swirls leaves all around us. Shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown. If his actions weren’t all for show the scene would be epically romantic.

“What are you waiting for?” The woman snaps more shots.

“Don’t you dare,” I hiss in warning.

“It’s not a big deal. Just my lips on yours. I promise I won’t stick my tongue in your mouth if that’s what you worried about,” he murmurs, coming closer. So close in fact that his lips graze mine and I whimper, praying he didn’t hear the sound but of course he did his face is attached to mine in a lip lock.

I mean he has a point but I’m not going to tell him that. It’s not like we haven’t kissed before or slept together, but we both swore to never mention it again.

Palms sweating, knees quaking, I wait for him to close the deal while praying I don’t throw up. Light and soft as a feather he presses his mouth to mine. I freeze. My pulse races, but I stay in place hating my body’s reaction. This is Finnick Wilder. My jerk boss. Our relationship is supposed to be fake, so why is my blood humming in anticipation for more?

“Come on, guys. Show me the passion. I want to see electricity. The sparks. Kiss her like you mean it.”

“This is stupid.” I go to pull away when Wilder shifts his hand from my ass to my midback and dips me out of nowhere. A grin spreads across his handsome features. In slow motion his mouth descends to mine, claiming my lips. Stars burst behind my eyelids. My body is a traitor. Warmth flows through my veins settling low in my belly. I can feel the curve of his smile as he tugs my bottom lip between his teeth.

“You promised,” I remind him.

His tongue slides between my lips, taking full control. My fake fiancé kisses me hard and deep, like he did the night we slept together.

Stunned, I pull back.

“So maybe I lied.” He flashes me his signature smirk then turns to the photographer. “We good?”

“Yes. I think I have everything.” She snaps one more shot. “I’ll send the edits over soon.” Her cheeks bloom pink, and I don’t think it’s due to the chill in the air. He has that effect on every woman he comes in contact with it seems.

“Put a rush on it. I’ll pay the extra fees.”

“I’ll add it to your tab, or we could do dinner.” I don’t miss the hope in her sickly-sweet tone.

Ugh, rude. We’re supposed to be getting married. I mean, not really but she doesn’t know that, or does she? Did he tell her? She must be another of his special friends like Amanda. In the weeks I’ve been playing his fiancée he’s made it clear he doesn’t do relationships. He has what he calls casual acquaintances. Women he can call any night of the week to tickle his pickle. Though I confess other than Amanda and his ex-wife he hasn’t dated anyone else that I’m aware of unless this photographer bitch is his latest conquest. Maybe they slept together when he went to Bud’s with his brother. He did pick me up there. What is wrong with me? It’s none of my business who he sleeps with and yet I don’t want people to think he’s cheating on me.

“I already have plans. Bill me whatever you consider fair.” He grabs my hand. “Shall we, ladybug?” The nickname he coined me with makes my belly do this stupid dip.

“Umm.” I stumble forward catching my heel on a rock.

“So damn clumsy. Try not to sprain something. I promised my mother we’d do Thanksgiving dinner.”

Oh no. Louise. If we miss another one of her dinners, she may kill us both. I don’t know if I can get out of it this time.

15

—Finnick—

It’s barely six in the morning when my doorbell starts chiming. Ding dong. Ding dong. Jesus. Someone better be dead. I roll out of bed and scrub a palm down my face. I’m surprised Auden didn’t wake up. I shuffle down the hallway to the front door. Maisy is standing on my porch with wet