Page 73 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

“It’s fine!” I call brightly, even as I flush bright red behind my shades.

OK, maybe I should save the X-rated fantasies for somewhere a little more private, but I’m just about ready to take a swim to cool off when I see Tessa scanning the crowds.

I wave her over. “You made it!”

“I had to get away,” she exclaims, collapsing with a cooler and massive sunhat. “I was this close to losing it, and telling Mrs Higenbottom where she can stick her customer complaint cards.”

“Mrs. who, with her what?” I laugh.

“Don’t ask.” Tessa rummages in the cooler, produces two icy sodas, and turns to me with a knowing grin. “So, I hear your fake relationship lasted just about as long as mine.”

“How do you know that already?” I wail, and then stop. “Wait, don’t tell me: Suze.”

“Yup.” Tessa laughs. “Well, she told Lori, who ran into Jackson, who told it to me. I’m so happy for you guys!” she adds. “You know, I figured there was something going on that night at the Last Buoy.”

“Then you were one step ahead of me!” I protest. “I don’t know how it happened. One minute, I’m screaming mad at the guy, and the next, we’re in the supply closet…” I trail off, blushing.

She laughs. “Don’t worry, we all know about that supply closet. It’s a Blackberry Cove rite of passage.”

“No!”

“Oh yes.” Tessa gives a nostalgic sigh. “Ten years ago, Jackson and me– the first time around. Well, let’s just say they stopped storing the overflow liquor in there, because the bottles kept winding up smashed.”

“I think we managed to avoid any major destruction,” I laugh. “Unless you count all my past ideas about sex.”

“That good, huh?”

I bite my lip, and Tessa laughs. “Enough said,” she beams, and taps her soda can to mine in a toast.

We settle in, and catch up on gossip about Jackson’s latest movie project, and their director buddy, Reeve, who’s off traveling the world treasure-hunting with the new love of his life, Ivy. “They were at my wedding,” I tell her. “He’s completely smitten.”

“You love to see it,” Tessa agrees. “Everyone’s paired off now. JJ and Fraser, Hazel and Josh, you and Duke…”

“Not so fast,” I stop her. “It’s still early days. Very early! I don’t even know what we’re doing, or what he wants, or how he feels…. and the fact we started out faking for the cameras makes everything even more complicated,” I add, my giddy buzz dampening a little.

Duke said he couldn’t resist me, but does that translate to wanting a real relationship to work?

“Don’t panic,” Tessa tells me, since clearly my thoughts are written all over my face. “It doesn’t have to be complicated, not if you make it simple. Just have a conversation with him about how you feel, and what you want.”

“Gee, that is simple… if you’ve had about ten years of therapy, and dealt with all your secret fears and insecurities!” I groan, only half-kidding.

Tessa giggles. “I believe in you. Trust me, you don’t want to leave the important things unspoken. You’ll just be flailing around, trying to read each other’s mind, and jumping to all the worst conclusions. That’s how me and Jackson almost made a mess of things.”

“Oh, I remember.” I smirk at her from behind my shades. “Who do you think is the one who gave him a talking to, and made him realize he had to step up and win your heart? You can thank me anytime,” I add airily.

Tessa laughs. “I thought I already did: keeping the paparazzi away from that supply closet.”

“Whoops, good point!”

I spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing on the sand with Tessa, before strolling home to shower and change. I’m meeting Duke at his place for dinner, but as I towel off and pick my outfit, I think about Tessa’s advice.

She knows all about complicated– and the perils of this kind of fake-date arrangement. She and Jackson almost came close to losing each other because they couldn’t get on the same page about their relationship, and what the future meant to them. Now, I’m torn between letting things unfold at their own pace with Duke, and biting the bullet to find out exactly what he thinks is happening here.

Besides all the mind-blowing sex and occasional bouts of food poisoning, that is.

I drive over to his place, already nervous how this simple, honest conversation is going to turn out. Is this how it feels when you actually give a damn about the other person?

Because it’s news to me.

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