I tried not to let my brain follow that possibility too far, but it was unavoidable. I’d lose one of the things I loved most in the world, which was getting to create the perfect day for two people who were in love. I’d lose the last thin strand of respect my father had for me. I’d lose everything.
“You look like you might be sick,” Chris said with a touch of a grin.
“Can you please just tell me what’s going on? No more bullshit? Because something is going on. I’ve known it since we met in your brother’s office.”
Chris ran his tongue across his teeth, hand still on his drink. “It’s possible that a problem is developing.”
“A problem…”
“I don’t really know how to say this, but—”
I could’ve screamed with frustration when a sudden clamor of voices from the entrance of the building cut Chris off. We could hear someone trying to tell everyone to stay back, and then at least a dozen men and women with cameras came rushing into the dining room.
Guests at the other tables threw their hands up in disbelief while others pulled out phones and started recording.
I didn’t have time to process what was happening before we were surrounded by flashbulbs and shouted questions.
“When did you find out, Chris?” demanded a voice.
“You can’t follow me in here,” Chris said calmly.
“What did you think when you saw it?” another voice demanded.
“Saw what?” Chris asked through grated teeth.
Someone produced a cell phone with a still-frame of Mindy in a bathrobe. She looked like she was in an apartment somewhere and in the middle of one of her videos. Except the mirror behind her showed a relatively fuzzy image of a very naked, very erect man in the bathroom behind her.
Oh shit.
“When was this taken?” Chris asked with surprising calm.
“Last night. Do you mean this is the first you’re seeing it?”
The pace of flash bulbs and camera clicks rose to a fever pitch.
Chris didn’t speak for a few seconds, then he gestured for me to stand up with him. “I guess this is as good a time as any to come clean. Mindy was a hired actress to keep you guys from harassing my real fiancée.”
A storm of questions erupted, and I felt like pulling out my own phone and shouting a million questions at Chris right along with them. What the hell was happening?
Chris slid his arm around me and pulled me close. Suddenly I was facing him, then he was tilting my chin up and then—
Reality closed in around us. The camera clicks sounded muffled like I was in the fish tank instead of standing beside it. My focus zeroed in on the space between our lips. The quickly evaporating inches between the point when he’d take my heart, whether I liked it or not.
“Chri-” I started, but it was too late.
His lips pressed against mine. Hot. Warm. Sweet.
He cupped my chin as he kissed me long and passionately, and when he pulled back, the sounds around me came rushing back in like a wave crashing down. Clicks. Shouts. Bright flashes of light. And so many questions.
“Who is she?”
“What’s her name?”
“When were you planning to tell the public?”
I realized half of the questions and the focus was on me, now. But Chris had his hand on my back and was guiding me through the crowd of photographers toward the exit.
“But what about dessert,” I asked weakly.
Chris chuckled. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”
11
Chris
Belle held her milkshake with trembling hands. She tried to find her straw and ended up nearly poking one of her eyes out, flinching back and then grabbing it for a sip.
“Just try to relax,” I said.
We were in a small diner we’d ducked into as soon as we got away from the paparazzi, and I hoped it would still be a while before any of them had a chance to find us again.
“Relax?” she asked. “I’ve been trying to come up with a list of complaints, and I don’t even know where to start. You just-”
“Here, let me help you. I kissed you without asking. Sorry, but I will say I thoroughly enjoyed it. And that thing you did with your tongue was a great touch. I vigorously approved. I also owe you a big explanation for the whole Mindy thing.”
“You mean your fiancée? And why aren’t you shaking with rage right now or something? That picture made it pretty clear she’s been cheating on you.”
“I wasn’t exactly lying when I said Mindy was a hired actress.”
Belle’s eyebrows slowly lowered. She looked adorable with her milkshake clutched between shaking hands. I wanted to taste it on her mouth—to steal another kiss. I shouldn’t have felt relieved for what happened, but there was no use pretending. I was thrilled. Mindy had screwed herself out of the equation, and now there wasn’t anything except a big fat lie and some smooth-talking standing between Belle and me. At least that’s what I was hoping.
“Explain,” she said flatly.
So I did. I spent a few minutes walking her through the way I’d gotten myself into trouble one too many times for my coach’s taste. How I needed some epic stunt to prove I was calming down, or at least that I’d spend less time chasing after women once one had me tied down. And how it was critical that nobody except the absolute essential people knew the truth, because it had to look real.
Belle’s nostrils were flared so wide I thought I could’ve turned her upside down and made a few three pointers in a row with my straw wrapper. She was breathing hard, and I wondered if she was thinking about tossing her milkshake in my face.
Couldn’t say I particularly blamed her.
“You lied to me.”
“I prefer to say I misled you. But it wasn’t personal.”
“It got personal the moment you stuck your dick in me, Chris.”
Our waitress, who had just come up from behind Belle, appeared to decide it wasn’t the best time to drop off our check. She did an about-face and walked back toward the kitchen.
Belle shielded her eyes, cheeks going red. “Did she just hear me?”
“Yes, but please, let’s keep talking about when my dick was in you. Because that was my favorite part of this story.”
There went the nostrils again. “This isn’t something you can dissolve with a joke, Chris.”
“That’s why I’ve got a plan to make it up to you.”
“I’m doubtful but listening.”
“This fiasco just screwed up a wedding you very much needed to plan, right? Because of your failing business and all that?”
The look she was giving me said I probably should’ve phrased that more delicately, but I pressed on.
“What if you go along with the story I gave them? Instead of Mindy being the fake fiancée, now you get to be.”
“Get to be?” Belle bit out each word like she had to force it from the core of her being.
“It’s a pretty cushy job. You just have to show up, say the words at the right time, and my brother and I will pay you what we were going to pay Mindy. And you still get paid for planning the wedding. Double dipping, you know?”