He patted the empty space beside him invitingly, and Evie climbed on up—making sure her skirt didn’t ruck up in all the wrong places.
“Ooh,” she said, sinking into the soft padding. “It is nice.”
“Do you think they ever have to throw people out for falling asleep?” Noah asked, scooching around and getting comfortable. “Because I could really go for a nap right now.”
“Me too,” Evie agreed, letting out a yawn. “Jules and I were up late last night, talking.”
“No wonder my ears were burning,” Noah said, looking smug.
“What makes you think we were talking about you?” Evie asked.
He grinned. “Because Jules just told me so.”
Dammit. Evie cursed inside. So much for playing it cool. “And what did she say?”
“Just that I’d better bring my A-game if I want to impress you.” Noah flashed a smile. “Apparently, you’re a very selective lady.”
Evie relaxed. OK, Jules was forgiven.
“So, how about that date?” he continued. “I know a great little restaurant just outside town. The chef’s a friend, it’s quiet … romantic … serves a delicious cocktail or two …” He trailed off, waiting for her response.
But Evie paused. The man played havoc on her self-control in a public, well-lit space. Throw in wine and candlelight, and she may as well strip off all her clothes and yell, “Take me now!”
Noah must have misread her hesitation, because his smile softened from “seductive” to “friendly.”
“It’s OK, don’t feel any pressure,” he said, sitting up on the bed. “It’s cool if you just want to be friends, or you’re not ready to be dating—”
“No, I am,” Evie found herself replying, with a rush of adrenaline. Jules was right, she didn’t have to go diving in the deep end. Noah was clearly a casual kind of guy. Why shouldn’t she see what it was like to have some fun?
And kiss him again.
Dear Lord, she wanted to kiss him again.
Evie sat up, wracking her brains for a safe, non-romantic date idea that wouldn’t have her immediately melting into a puddle of pure lust at his feet. Then she remembered the conversation at the bakery.
“I actually have an idea,” she said. “Remember how I pretended to be your girlfriend?”
“Vividly,” Noah murmured, his gaze fixed on her.
Evie blushed. “Well, maybe you can return the favor. I want to visit some of the B&Bs in the area, scope out the competition,” she explained. “And I thought maybe I could get away with some snooping if I had some company. We could pretend to be looking for a honeymoon spot.”
“You mean, undercover?” Noah’s smile widened. “Count me in.”
“Great.” Evie exhaled in relief. “I know it’s not exactly dinner and a movie …”
“Are you kidding? This sounds like a blast,” he insisted. “I always wanted to play secret agent.”
“I don’t know how much danger we’ll be in,” she said, teasing. “Not many opportunities to plot for world domination on Cape Cod. But be prepared for scones.”
“Always.” Noah patted his stomach. His tanned, taut stomach. “When it comes to baked goods, you can count on me.”
They were just deciding on the details when Jules reappeared, looking delighted. “Do you know what you want yet?” she asked, giving Evie a meaningful smile.
“Yes,” she replied, deciding. “I think I’ll get this one.”
“I wasn’t talking about the mattress,” Jules murmured, and Evie elbowed her.
“So, I’ll see you Monday?” she said to Noah, who was reluctantly climbing down off the bed.
“I’ll be there.” He said goodbye and sauntered off, leaving Jules looking smug.
“Monday, huh? I knew it!” she crowed.
“Easy, tiger,” Evie calmed her. “He’s just helping me out with a job for the inn.”
“Oh yeah?” Jules waggled her eyebrows. “A private, sexy job, I’m sure.”
Evie laughed, giving her a playful shove. “You’re impossible.”
“You owe me an ice cream for throwing him in your direction,” Jules announced. “Double chocolate, extra chunks. And if you and Mr. Montgomery aren’t giving one of these mattresses a workout by the end of summer, I’ll eat my favorite beret!”
Evie just smiled, heading up to the register to place her eye-poppingly expensive mattress order with the eager salesman. But as she waited her turn, she felt a fizz of excitement, thinking about her plans with Noah. Even if she was just dipping her toes into the water, she couldn’t deny just how tempting that water was. She had fun with him. She felt alive. And after the past couple of years of heartbreak and tragedy, a little fun was the least she deserved.
And, yes, the last time she’d played pretend with him she’d wound up lip-locked in a passionate kiss … but did that bode badly for their date on Monday?
Or did it bode very, very well?
9
Noah wasn’t sure what to expect from his big undercover mission with Evie, but he’d learned from his firefighting job to always be prepared. So he pulled up outside the inn on Monday afternoon with two coffees, a box of pastries, and a whole bag of tricks for the road. He was ready for anything.
But as he waited out front, there was one big question burning in his mind:
Was this trip just a friendly outing, a way for him to return the favor by pretending to be a couple again?
Or was there a chance for something more?
Evie emerged from the inn, took one look at him, and laughed. “What are you wearing?” she asked, getting into his truck.
Noah closed the door behind her and circled around to the driver’s side. “It’s one of my cover stories,” he said, climbing in behind the wheel. “What do you think?” he asked, gesturing to the khaki pants and preppy polo shirt. “Does this outfit scream ‘heir to a paperclip fortune’ or what?”
“Paperclips, huh?” Evie grinned. “I didn’t realize there was money in that.”
“Tons.” Noah smiled back at her. “We can say my grandpa made his fortune in office supplies and left the whole lot to me.”
“So, does that make me your gold-digging fiancée?” Evie asked. “Maybe I should have worn a different outfit. Except … what does a gold digger wear?”
“You look perfect,” Noah replied—and she did. Evie was dressed in a frothy floral sundress that skimmed her collarbone and danced around her knees. With her hair in loose waves and a smile on her face, she was enough to make his heart stop.
Dangerously beautiful.
“Ready to go?” he asked, trying to keep his mind on their task, and not Evie Baxter-Jones’s spectacular legs. “The weather forecast says it’s turning stormy later. Where’s our first spot?”
Evie consulted her notebook. “The Webster House Inn,” she said, giving him the directions. “It’s old, fancy, and has amazing reviews.”
“Let’s go check out the competition then,” Noah said, turning onto the highway.