Page 20 of Story Of My Heart

I sift through my memories, trying to pin down the details of her and Leo’s interaction on the boat. My own distraction at the time blurs the edges of those moments, but their camaraderie seemed laced with genuine affection, despite her comparison. “Really? Seemed pretty legit to me. Are you sure there’s nothing romantic between you two?”

Fallon’s gaze drifts over the laptops and notebooks strewn across the small table in front of us. She sighs, a note of longing in her breath. “Nope. Nada. Zilch. But the two of you working together on Tate’s project? It’s dreamy.”

A pang of guilt twitches in my chest. The truth of my paid role here would shatter her idealized view. Dodging the heart of the matter, I respond, “It’s just because we’ve been working together a long time.”

As Tate approaches, his clumsy handling of a brimming coffee cup catches our attention. He’s a careful dance of stops and starts, sipping from the rim to prevent a spill, before offering me a thumbs up. I mirror his gesture, the action hollow given the web of pretense we’re weaving.

Fallon looks on, practically glowing with approval. “It’s how you two look at each other. I’m a believer now,” she grins. “Team Piper!”

The words hit differently this time. The warmth of acceptance from Tate’s sister intertwines with a biting cold of deceit. I’d feel bad about making his sister fall for a lie, if I wasn’t starting to believe it myself. The romance, the partnership—it’s not real, but every smile, every shared glance with Tate plants a dangerous seed of wishful thinking. Team Piper, indeed. But at what cost? As the threads of our fabricated tale twist tighter, I find myself wondering just how deep I’m in, tangled between duty and a burgeoning, forbidden hope.

Chapter Eleven

Tate

Working in the lobby of the lodge was a great idea. It’s nice not being cooped up in our tiny cabin, the chairs are comfortable, and the Wi-Fi signal in here is twice as strong. I’m totally on board with it until the lobby starts to flood with people, mostly families with cranky half-asleep children and far too many suitcases that won’t shut all the way. My mind flashes back to all those summers I spent helping my mom man the front desk, and I know without looking that it’s 10:30 on the dot. Years of working here have left me carefully attuned to the morning rush that check-out time brings.

A pair of twin boys, no more than ten years old, have started to chase each other in laps around the lobby, each brandishing a stick they found outside. I see one of them coming from the corner of my eye, picking up speed as he gets closer and closer to Piper’s chair. I react without hesitation, tearing her coffee and laptop away from her lap, and before she can get a syllable of annoyance out, the boy careens into her legs and tumbles to the floor. To his credit, he gets back up immediately, shooting off in the other direction without so much as a grunt.

“Okay. It’s time to go,” I announce, folding both laptops shut and reaching for Piper’s hand. She lets me help her up and out of the chair, then becomes self-conscious about the contact, pulling her hand back and nervously wiping it against her jeans. Between this and the awkward not-quite-kiss, I’m starting to feel like there’s something wrong with me. I don’t have the ability to think about it when the lobby is this loud and full of sticky, maple syrup covered children, so I start to usher us back toward our cabin.

The air is quiet, all of the chaos confined to the main lodge, and I’m finally able to process my thoughts. I keep coming back to what I overheard of Piper’s conversation with my sister, and how awkward she thought the kiss was, which is terrifically unfortunate because other than my idiocy at the end, it was one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life. It’s been playing in the back of my brain on a loop ever since we disembarked from that ridiculous boat. I keep analyzing every millisecond, thinking about the way her lips felt, the taste of her tongue, and the sound of her breathing.

My mind flashes with a memory of the outline of her curve in that figure-hugging dress last night. The way she smelled. The length of leg exposed by the slit. The way she twirled a lock of hair around her finger when she was nervous. Those huge eyes and the way they would lock with mine if she was on her knees. The full swell of her lips when I pushed the crown of my dick through them for the first time.

Shit. I have to stop this. Right now.

I can’t cross the line with Piper. She doesn’t need my baggage—the ghosts in my past—so I give her what’s easy. It’s me, in a nutshell, just not the entire man.

I was fine with it ending there, I really was. I could just take that one moment and keep it in my mental vault forever, and probably die happy.

And then I saw her in the shower this morning. I get that it was weird. It wasn’t a smart call. I’ve never lived with a woman, so I don’t know these things. According to my mom, I’m a bit neurodivergent. At least that’s what numerous docs said as I sailed through school without studying or even caring, like some idiot savant. My folks never had the money to get the expensive intake and testing that their expensive self-employment insurance wouldn’t cover.

I don’t really understand personal boundaries and the way neurotypical people interact with each other. Social norms all seem so unimportant to me.

And frankly, until this weekend, I’ve never really thought of Piper as a woman. I’ve just thought of her as Piper. She’s one half of the Piper and Tate combo package. Seeing her naked was like seeing a teacher outside of school for the first time, realizing that she’s a human being with wants and desires and hobbies. Full tits begging for my hands. And a great ass. A really great ass.

I clear my throat, trying to stifle any and all ass related thought processes while I wait for Piper to unlock the door to the cabin.

“Are you okay?” She asks over her shoulder. I nod, hoping that I seem normal when I do. I’m not equipped to deal with these feelings. I’m not equipped to deal with feelings at all. It isn’t hard for a man of my tax bracket to get laid, and I know that I’m not bad looking myself. I’m just used to paying for drinks and enjoying a casual hookup that doesn’t go anywhere, and doesn’t involve a single ounce of my own vulnerability.

On top of everything, I don’t think I can handle my family figuring out that Piper and I aren’t a real couple. If they start to pick at that, our whole lie about the resort being purchased could start to unravel before I can get things stabilized. I’ll just have to deal with this like I deal with everything else. Strategize. Plan. Test. Analyze. Tweak. I told Piper that I don’t believe in love, so this should be no different than dealing with a bit of unruly code.

Those pesky feelings that seem to be developing a mind of their own? They’re not real, so I can ignore them.

“I have a plan,” I announce awkwardly, still standing in the doorway. Piper pauses to look at me, halfway through plugging her phone into the charger on the nightstand. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m scared. You had a plan yesterday. We executed it.” She lets her voice trail off, reminding me again of the terrible aftermath from that kiss under the bridge. Not my proudest moment. I can do better. I am going to do better.

“I think you’ll like the execution of this one much better. I was surprised before. I’m more competent when I’m allowed to think things through.” I straighten my shoulders and smooth the front of my shirt, trying to imbue myself with some kind of self-confidence. Women like me. I’m just usually content with knowing that they like me for my money.

Piper rolls my words around in her head, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tries to figure out my meaning. She gives up, plopping down onto the bed in defeat. “What?”

“I overheard your conversation with my sister. I don’t want them hounding me.” I walk toward the bed, cautiously sitting down. I leave a tasteful ten inches between us, not wanting to crowd her. “Obviously, we don’t look like a real couple. And now that we’ve decided that’s going to be our cover story, we have to sell it. I can’t deal with Ledger finding out that I’m a silent partner in the resort. You have to agree that would be a very bad idea.”

She tilts her head. Which just causes her mane of hair to fall over her shoulder. Which draws my eyes to her… In the darkest recesses of my brain, she’d moan before she screamed my name. Of course, if this were playing out in my filthy mind, she’d be leaning back on the bad with her legs falling open. Or down on her knees with my dick between her lips. My head snaps back up. “We aren’t a real couple.”

“I know,” I sigh, closing my eyes before taking the plunge. I’ve never been afraid of rejection before, but Piper has me quaking in my boots. A tremble works its way down my arm and into my hand, and I have to focus on my breathing to steady myself. “But we could pass for one if we practiced.”

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