Just don’t make me look like a total ass.” His hands went to her waist, and he splayed his fingers low over her hipbones. “I blew it, okay. When Jeff told me he’d moved out, I didn’t know what to do, how to help you, so I did nothing. And I hate that. You’re my friend, separate of Jeff. I can help this time if you’ll just let me, Alexis.”
He’d never called her by her full name before, so she’d never known how incredibly hypnotic it would sound falling from his lips. Nor did she anticipate the quiet pride she felt at his reminder of who she was…who she wanted to become again. Which was why she forced herself to ask, “So is this like a pity relationship?”
“No pity, Lexi.”
“And what about Jeffery? What will we tell him?”
“Let me handle Jeff. And this isn’t about him or your grandma or the bachelors. This is about you and your business, and dating me gives you a polite way out, lets you focus.” He cupped her cheek, running the pad on his thumb across her cheekbone. “You were my wingman for years. Let me be yours. Then we’ll be even, I promise.”
When he put it like that, so simple and honest, it was impossible to resist. She found herself not wanting to resist, so she snuggled a little closer. “What do you get out of this? I mean, besides making it even?”
He sighed, bringing her into a full embrace to rest his cheek on top of her head. “Is this just between us?”
She did some sighing of her own, melting into his warm, naked chest. He smelled like sexy morning man and felt even better. Unable to stop herself, she wrapped her arms around his middle and whispered, “If this is going to work, everything has to stay between us.”
He was silent for a moment. They both knew that her words were part statement and part question. Trust was a two-way thing, and she was giving him hers and asking for his in return.
After a moment, his hand swept up her back to tangle in her hair. “My brothers were right.” She knew how hard that must have been for him to admit. He hated being wrong, especially if that meant his brothers were right. “I’m in over my head. The Showdown is a mess. I have a dog as a wine expert, might be short one celebrity taster, and if Abby doesn’t stop running those ‘dick’ ads, people will start asking for refunds and we won’t even get any attendees.”
“You’ll figure it out,” she said, placing a hand on his forearm. “It’s what you do.”
He laughed. “I have no idea what the hell I am doing or how the hell I can fix this. This event means a lot to St. Helena and to my family. I need to focus.”
She’d meant what she’d said; he would pull it off, of that she had no doubt. He was born for this job. But what she couldn’t grasp was how their fake relationship would benefit him.
She tilted her head back and stared up into those dark mahogany eyes. She must have looked as confused as she felt, because he flashed her a badass smile and added, “You’re not the only one with admirers who are distracting, cream puff.” Oh, right, Natasha. And probably countless others who were sex-on-a-stick with enormous boobs. How could she forget? “I need time to work this out and a date for all the events that don’t require work.”
His words hit home—hard and painful. He wanted someone who wasn’t a distraction as a front while he saved the Showdown and a date that he didn’t have to worry about mixed feelings with while mingling at the events. In a way she was using him too, so it shouldn’t have hurt that he would have to fake the romance in their fauxmance, but it did. Because she wouldn’t have to pretend. What woman would? Marc was sexy and smart and funny and so far out of her league. He always had been, and this was a clear reminder.
Ohmigod! She froze, her hands started sweating, and her face burned red. She would be his beard—and he wasn’t even gay. Alexis Moreau had gone from prom queen to divorcée to a straight man’s beard. How pathetic was that?
She detangled herself from his warmth and stepped around him. Plastering a fake smile on her face, she typed “YES” to their fake relationship.