Page 56 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love

With a quick kiss to her nose, he rose from the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. He left the door open, so she rose up on her elbow, watching his very fine naked backside.

“Hey.” He turned back to face her once he’d disposed of the condom. “You want to catch a movie later?”

Distracted by the awesome sight of Del’s naked body, it took a moment for his question to register. “A movie?”

“Yeah, that new slasher movie is in theaters. I remember you said you wanted to go see it. We could even grab dinner after.”

“Dinner after?”

“Or before, whatever you want.”

Dinner and a movie? That sounded suspiciously like a date. Something they did not do.

Still, the idea of going to the movies and dinner with Del made something tight and uncomfortable twist in her chest. He walked back into the bedroom, totally unashamed of his nudity. And why would he be? The man looked damn fine without any clothes on. In fact, it would really help her to think if he would just put some freaking pants on.

When he pulled out a pair of boxers from the top drawer of her dresser and slid them on, she lamented her previous thought. The sight of naked Delta may mess with her mind, but it was nice to—

Hey, wait a minute!

She glanced around her bedroom, noticing for the first time how much it had changed in a mere seven days. The top two drawers of her dresser, once empty, now held an array of Del’s clothes. A pair of shoes and some very nice hiking boots lay at the bottom of her open closet. The hamper at the end of her bed overflowed with a mixture of his and her clothing. Even a quick glance at the bathroom sink showed the evidence of a male presence: aftershave, razor, and a blue toothbrush next to her green one on the countertop. She knew he’d been leaving some stuff over lately, but this looked like…

“Did you move in?”

He grabbed a pair of jeans, pulling them up, but leaving the button undone before shrugging. “Kind of. It’s not like I’m home much lately. Your house is nicer than my crappy studio, and we’re engaged. People will expect us to live together once we’re married. Might as well get used to it.”

He had a point. Didn’t mean she had to like it.

“Don’t you think this is something you should have discussed with your fiancée first? We agreed you’d move in after the wedding.”

“Yeah, but that was before we started sleeping together.” He stared at her. Calm as a cucumber, Del leaned back against the dresser, arms crossing over his bare chest. “Something upsetting you, Cassie?”

Yes, this whole thing upset her. Having to marry someone in order to keep the only home she’d ever known, having spectacular sex with her fake fiancé, him basically moving in and asking her on dates like they were a real couple, experiencing strange unwanted feelings. The entire thing was upsetting!

“I just wish you had consulted me first before bringing all your stuff over.”

He snorted. “Two drawers is hardly all my stuff.” His face turned serious, arms dropping to his sides. “But I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

Dammit, he did sound sorry. Things would be so much easier if he’d remained the shallow, obnoxious, screw-up she’d thought he was. But over the past few weeks, she’d gotten to know Del and he was none of those things. He was sweet and kind and had a spark of ambition he never let anyone see because he was also something else: afraid. Afraid of disappointing his family.

Shoot! Why couldn’t the guy just be an asshole?

“You didn’t overstep. I guess I’m just not used to living with someone.” She’d only ever lived her parents and Gran, never a lover.

She thought she saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes as he turned to the dresser, grabbing a black T-shirt and pulling it over his head.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be stuck with me for long. I’ll be out of your hair once we get a divorce.”

Right, a divorce, because none of this was real. Not their marriage, not their relationship, not even the sex. Not in any strict sense. The sex was real enough, but it didn’t mean anything. That’s what she told herself. Then why did it feel as though Del just struck her in the heart with a big ass knife?

If all this was supposed to be fake, why did it feel so real?

Angry at herself, at Del, at her grandmother for putting this whole stupid façade into motion, she clenched her teeth, pasting a smile on her face. “Right. You’ll only be stuck with me for a year, tops.” She’d make sure of it, because she didn’t think she could handle any more. Temper rising, she wrapped the bedsheet tightly around herself before rising. “I’m sure somehow you can manage to suffer through it.”

Brow drawing down, he pushed off from the dresser reaching for her. “What? Cassie, wait—”

She held up a hand, stopping him. “No. I need a shower. I have a lot to do today. I have orders to fill and errands to run. I don’t have time for any more sex.”

His lips turned down in a scowl. “I wasn’t going for more sex.”

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