One Fake Fiance - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,31

have the bed. I’ll take the couch.” She whipped a light tone into her voice. “After all, it’s not every day that a girl gets to sleep on a red, white, and pink plaid couch.”

“Nah,” he chuckled, “I couldn’t do that to you. My mama raised me better than that. I’ll take the couch.” His eyes lit with a teasing sparkle. “Although in a couple of days we’ll be married, and then we’ll have to rethink the bed and couch thing.”

A shaky laugh left her throat. “I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.” Her face was burning to the point where she thought she’d combust. She didn’t know why she was feeling so shy all of a sudden. Maybe it was because of the intense attraction she felt for Lucas. He’d been so larger-than-life back then—Lexi’s older brother. The star football player who had the world by the tail. Heck, he was still all that. The conquering hero, all wrapped up in that tough, sexy cowboy swagger. Even though his clothing had been changed from Western wear to something more neutral, he was a cowboy through and through.

In long, fluid strides, he went over to the couch and put down his duffel bag. “Well,” he drawled, looking around, “what now?”

Magnolia placed her purse on the bed before moving into the bathroom. She took one look, giggling. “Lucas, you’ve got to see this.”

He stepped into the bathroom. The startled look on his handsome face was priceless. She watched with pleasure as his gaze moved over the glistening white clawfoot tub. Red towels embroidered with white hearts were draped over the edge of the tub. Red soaps shaped like hearts were stacked in a pyramid beside the sink. A red fuzzy cover covered the toilet lid. Spread across the black and white checkered floor were two red shag rugs.

“This takes the cake.” He chuckled. “No wonder Lillian had this room open. No one in their right mind could possibly want to stay here.”

Magnolia moved to leave the room. As she walked by Lucas, her hand brushed against his, sending a tremble of a spark through her. This energy building between them was wildly unnerving. She hoped she wasn’t the only one feeling it.

She traipsed over to the couch and plopped down. She looked out the window. They were on the second floor, giving her a splendid view of the large, wooded yard. Snow was still falling. A tall pile collected on the windowsill. She looked out at the large trees, their intricate network of branches clothed in a soft blanket of fresh snow. It was a feast for the eyes, almost magical.

Magnolia’s heart skipped a beat when Lucas came over and sat down beside her. He angled to face her, his leg touching hers. “So, what do we do now? We have several hours to kill before the live nativity.”

Lillian had invited them to attend the live nativity celebration held on the town square. Magnolia had never been to a live nativity before. She thought it sounded like fun. And it would give them something to do. Otherwise, they’d just be sitting in this outlandish room, twiddling their thumbs.

She glanced at his lips as a heatwave swirled through her. She could think of a few things other than twiddling their thumbs that they could do to occupy their time. Amusement flickered in Lucas’s eyes, making her think for one crazy moment that he’d read her thoughts. “What?” she laughed.

He arched an eyebrow as he draped his arm over the ledge of the couch, behind where she was sitting. “You wanna kiss me.”

The cocky expression on his face caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise. “I do not,” she retorted. Sheesh. This was embarrassing. Was she that obvious?

A corner of his mouth pulled into a crooked grin. “Yes, you do,” he murmured as he leaned close. Her skin zinged when he brushed a hand across her cheek. “You’re blushing.”

“You certainly have a high opinion of yourself, Lucas Romeo,” she said tartly. “I’m sure you think all the girls are after you.”

Rich, melodic laughter flowed from his lips. “Not all the girls.” He gave her a meaningful look. “Just the one that matters.”

Her breath hitched as her eyes searched his. “Do I matter to you?” The words had trickled out of their own accord, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. “Scratch that,” she blurted, giving him an apologetic look. She looked down at her hands.