Page 23

"Tomayto-tomahto."

"This isn't a joke."

"Didn't say it was."

"You don't even know what you're agreeing to."

"Four days of wedding activities, free food, and getting to spend time with a beautiful woman who's been rejecting me for two years?" He pretended to consider it. “Yeah. Sounds brutal."

He stepped closer, and I caught myself staring at his mouth. His lips. His smile.

The little dimple that appeared in his left cheek when he was particularly pleased with himself.

Which, unfortunately, was often.

"Besides," he added, his voice dropping, "I've been looking for an excuse to kiss you for two years. You'd be doing me a favor."

My breath caught. "That is not how fake dating works.”

"Pretty sure there's no official rulebook."

"There should be."

"Write one,” he suggested with a twinkle in his eye.

My phone kept ringing. "Damon⁠—"

"Take your call." He started toward the barn doors. "I'll swing by your cabin to pick you up for the wine tasting."

"What? No. I haven't agreed to anything."

He glanced over his shoulder.

And there it was.

That smile.

The one that made my stomach flip, my pulse race, and my common sense pack its bags for an extended vacation.

"Then I guess we've got a date to negotiate the terms."

"It's not a date!"

"It’s not not a date." He winked and strolled out of the barn with the easy confidence of a man who was used to getting his way.

Naturally, I watched him go. Because I was a woman with functioning eyes, and the view from behind was every bit as spectacular as the one from the front.

And as I stood there with a ringing phone, a fake boyfriend I hadn't agreed to, and the very real possibility of spending four days pretending Damon Lockhart was mine, one terrifying thought occurred to me.

Damon Lockhart might be the safest man in the world to fake-date.

But something told me he was the most dangerous man alive to fall for.

4

COSPLAYING COMMITMENT

Damon