Page 25 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love

A tentative smile curled the corner of her lips. “I would write all this down, but I don’t want to risk anything getting back to Mandy, so we’ll have to agree on a verbal contract.”

He could deal with that. He trusted Cassie to keep her word.

“So a small wedding,” he said, “me moving in with you, you get the house, I get the cash, and we don’t fall in love with each other. It’s settled then. Don’t worry, Sassy. I won’t get swept up in the ruse.” He got what she was saying. He also saw how uncomfortable the situation made her, and he wanted to ease her worry. With a teasing smile, he leaned forward. “Can’t say the same for you though. Going to be awfully hard for you to resist this much man. Am I right?”

He raised an arm to flex, relieved when she rolled her eyes and laughed as he’d intended.

“Get over yourself, Delta Jackson. You’re not that sexy.”

Ouch. The woman could be brutal.

“In all seriousness, we will have to touch.” Her brow furrowed. “Kiss, hold hands, do stuff in public that normal couples do.”

He had no problem with any of that. “Shouldn’t be too hard. A peck here and there. Some handholding. Give everyone the show they need to see.”

Holding back would be hard. After the kiss they shared the other night, Del had done nothing but dream of Cassie night and day. In the early hours of the morning, his mind wandered to their kiss, only instead of stopping, the fantasy continued. Kissing, touching until clothes fell off, bodies joined, pleasure erupting. He’d woken with a hard-on like a damn teenager every morning since their kiss.

The woman got his motor running like no other. Resisting would be hard, but he’d do it. Because this wasn’t about his boyhood crush. It was about helping Cassie get her house and him getting his seed money. Nothing more.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

“I hate that we have to lie to Charlie and your brothers.” She tugged on one of her curls, twisting the lock of hair around a finger. A tell that always gave away her nerves during their poker nights.

“It’ll be fine,” he promised. “Trust me.”

The tugging stopped, green eyes spearing him with an annoyed glance. “Gran always told me never to trust a man who said ‘trust me.’”

“Yeah? She’s also the same woman who thought her granddaughter needed a husband in order to own a house, so how good could her advice be?”

Letting out a defeated half-laugh, Cassie dropped her head onto the wooden slats of the picnic table. Damn, he hated seeing her like this. Guilt, frustration, and more than a little dose of unfulfilled lust coursing through his body, Del gently stroked her head. The soft, springy strands of her jet-black hair curled around his fingers.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Don’t worry. Just stick to the story and everything will be fine. I promise.”

Her head lifted, green eyes gazing at him with such hopeful fear it gutted him. “Really?”

Grasping her left hand, he took the ring from the box, sliding it on her ring finger. A perfect fit. “Really.”

She glanced down at their clasped hands, hers now adorned with the sparkling ruby engagement ring. He heard her sharp inhalation and sucked in a fortifying breath of his own. He had to admit, the jewelry looked good on her. The small terrifying voice in his mind telling him he was getting in over his head could take a flying leap because Cassie’s eyes began to sparkle—no freakin’ lie, sparkle—as she gazed at her hand.

“It’s a beautiful ring, Del. Thank you.”

His chest filled with uncomfortable emotions he in no way wanted to deal with, so he pushed them down and simply nodded.

“Okay,” she said, pulling her hands from his. “Let’s do this.”

Cold at the loss of her touch and knowing he needed to get his shit together quick, he pointed to her untouched sandwich. “Eat first. Then we go tell my siblings.”

“I don’t think I can stomach anything right now.”

Grabbing his own half-eaten sandwich, he took a large bite, chewing and swallowing

before answering. “Trust me. You’re going to need a lot of stamina for this revelation.”

Her lips pursed in a grimace, but she followed his advice, grabbing her food and stuffing a large bite into her mouth. He tried not to focus on the sensual way her tongue darted out to lick a dollop of mayo that dripped onto her lip or the way his ring on her finger caught the sunlight, shining like a beacon, declaring for all to see that Cassandra Brown was his woman.

But it’s all a lie.

And he’d do best to remember that.

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