Page 4 of Fake It For Him

I frowned. “Why did you come, then?”

“A wedding.” He said the word like it tasted bitter on his tongue, his mouth twisting slightly before he sighed. “I didn’t get beat up. I took a punch. There’s a difference.”

I chuckled. “Tell that to your face. Your eyes are going black. Did you know that?”

“Nope, but it doesn’t matter. It was for a good cause. Like you, I was a good Samaritan today. It might just take a while before my little brother sees it that way.”

“Your little brother did this to you? Why?”

The guy flashed me a devilish smile, wincing only a little bit and obviously trying to hide the pain. “Let’s just say I know how to push his buttons. I got a few licks in too, though. He’s not looking so hot right now either.”

Honestly, you still look pretty hot to me, but hey. My eyebrows hitched up. “Is this really the you-should-see-the-other-guy conversation?”

He looked right back at me as he chuckled, and my insides nearly melted at the sound. Even beat up, this was probably the best-looking man I’d ever seen. His voice was like gravel wrapped in silk, and when he smiled—or chuckled, it seemed—it had a profound effect on the state of my panties.

I knew he was a walking red flag. But I like red and I love flags.

Usually not this kind, but it’d been a long time since I’d had such instant chemistry with someone, and it was making me feel bold. Like I could let go of the past for a minute and just focus on my immediate future.

And the way he was looking at me promised good things for said immediate future.

He was a man who appreciated my curves, judging by the way his gaze kept dropping to my body, lingering before he dragged it back up slowly. “Well, I’d rather you not see the other guy, but that’s only because I don’t want you feeling sorry for him when I’m so enjoying having you feel sorry for me.”

“That is possibly the worst line I’ve ever heard.” I laughed anyway, though. At least he was honest. “I’m also not feeling exceptionally sorry for you, buddy. I have a feeling you had this coming. Whatever buttons you pushed, your little brother must’ve had good reason for punching you or else he’d have been the one wandering the streets and you’d have been seen to by whoever you were attending this wedding with.”

“Oh, no. The wedding hasn’t happened yet and it’s not going to.” My eyes grew wide as he said it, and he leaned in slightly, once again locking his gaze firmly on mine. “It wasn’t a line, Samaritan. I meant it. I’m enjoying your company.”

“Do you want to just ask me for my name so that you don’t have to keep calling me that?”

He pulled away a little, gracefully leaning back against the sofa with his coffee still in his hands, but he hadn’t taken a sip yet. He did so as he thought it over though, and then his face scrunched up and it looked like he was about to spit it all right back out.

“Is that what passes for coffee around here?”

“Shh.” I made my eyes big at him, inclining my head back at Seamus behind the bar. “He’ll kick you out if he hears you insulting his coffee.”

“I seem to have a knack for making the Scottish people want to kick me out,” he mused. “As for your question, I don’t think I do want to know your name. I’m liking the anonymity of this encounter too much.”

Yep. Walking, talking red flag. Great. “You know, I’m going to go ahead and assume that it’s because you don’t want to tell me your name in return. You don’t want me knowing who you are, which means you’re someone you think I’ll know when you tell me your name.”

I saw a glimmer of oh shit in the tightening of the skin around his eyes, but it was gone as soon as he blinked. “Does that mean you’re going to push me to tell you my name even if I don’t want to know yours?”

I stared back at him, admiring those regal, statuesque features, and then I shook my head. Whoever he was, I really didn’t want to know. Not only because I didn’t want to be obligated to get involved if the police started looking for him due to the fight or something, but also because clearly, he came from money.

The way he talked, the clothes he wore, the scent, and even the graceful way he moved screamed I’m stinking rich!

People with money had connections, and if I pushed him for his name and I had to give him mine in return, that would mean that he could lean on those connections to find out more about me. Which I definitely didn’t want.

“Nah. I like anonymity better too.”

Curiosity flared to life behind his eyes, but he inclined his chin in agreement and then shot me another one of those devilish smiles. “Are you going to drink your milkshake, or does this stuff get better as it gets cold?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not a milkshake. It’s just a delicious coffee, and no, it doesn’t get better as it gets cold. It’s perfectly good just the way it is.”

“You’ve been here for too long if you really believe that.” He brought his mug back to his lips and gingerly took another sip. Another little shudder traveled through him. Then he grinned at me again. “Bottoms up?”

“What?”

Even as I asked it, he swigged down however much of his coffee had been left and pulled a face. Giving his head a hard shake, he set the mug down on the table. “I win.”