Page 60 of Baby, It’s Hotter Inside

I go straight to Nash and wrap my arms around his neck. I have to stand way up on my toes to reach him, but I press my lips to the corner of his mouth, giving him just the tiniest of kisses. Then I put my lips right next to his ear.

“We had a deal,” I say. “You obviously forgot to pick me up.

“I never said I was going to pick you up,” he says.

“So far you are a terrible fake boyfriend.”

He tosses his head back and laughs, then wraps his thick arms around the small of my back.

Gah, the strength in those arms nearly steals my breath.

He looks down at me, grinning. He’s just so rugged and handsome, so burly and big, and I want to rub all over him to mark my territory like some kind of cat in heat. That’s probably not normal.

“Tell me,” he starts, “What exactly is a fake boyfriend supposed to do?”

“Well, you’re supposed to walk around the market with me. Hold my hand. Buy me treats. Oh, and tell me I’m beautiful.”

“You’re always beautiful, Roni,” he says.

And I swear it’s like they say in the movies, my heart actually skips a beat. Oh no, I hope I’m not developing some kind of murmur.

“What else?” he asks.

“You should definitely kiss me on the nose.”

“On the nose?”

“Yes, that’s very sweet and romantic. But then you should try to get me underneath the mistletoe so you can kiss me on the mouth.” I waggle my eyebrows at him. “With tongue.”

Again he laughs like I am the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen. His laugh is big and glorious and just makes me smile.

“I love it when you laugh,” I can’t help but say. “It’s my favorite sound.”

He stares at me for a minute, then pats his stomach. “It’s all the extra padding, makes for good acoustics.”

I put my hand on his belly. “I like your extra padding too.” I’m done pretending that I don’t love everything about this man. “I like how big you are.” I lean close to whisper. “Are you big all over?”

“Christ,” he hisses. He links our fingers together so we’re holding hands. “Let’s do the market thing, my beautiful girlfriend, before I have to take you somewhere and spank your pretty little ass for being so damn naughty.”

We walk hand-in-hand for a while, just looking at the various booths and saying hello to people we know as we pass them.

“You know I agreed to do this in front of that tool, Pete, not just the town in general,” Nash mumbles. But he squeezes my hand nonetheless.

“Maybe I just want to flaunt you as my boyfriend.”

“Fake boyfriend,” he corrects.

“Yeah, totally what I meant.”

“Can I ask you a question?” he asks.

“You can ask me anything.”

“How many tattoos do you have?”

I frown at him. “I don’t have any tattoos. Why?”

“Ian. That fucker. He had me all convinced he’d inked you all up.”