Page 8 of Ice-Cold Truth

“So?” she prompts when Sam pauses.

“So…” he drawls, dragging out the word. “I was thinking it might be a good idea for Jack to have a…girlfriend. You know, for appearances’ sake. Shake off that pesky playboy reputation.”

I nearly choke on my pizza. Of all the hare-brained schemes…

But Elyse is grinning now, clearly entertained by the idea. “You want me to be Jack’s fake girlfriend?”

“Exactly.” Sam beams. “Who better than my dear baby sister? You’re gorgeous, funny, and way too smart to fall for this lug…” He jerks a thumb in my direction teasingly. “Plus, you’ve got that whole ‘good girl’ vibe going on. Perfect for cleaning up Jack’s image.”

“You know ninety percent of that garbage is just lies and rumors,” I say, feeling the need to explain myself to Elyse.

Elyse’s smile falters, and for a horrible moment, I think she might actually consider it. The thought is exhilarating and terrifying. To have her on my arm, to be able to touch her freely, to steal kisses…

No. I can’t let this happen. I won’t use Elyse that way, no matter how harmless Sam thinks it is.

“That’s…” I begin, searching for the right words to let her down gently.

Elyse is already shaking her head, amusement flickering in those captivating eyes. “As fun as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass.”

Relief and disappointment war within me. This is for the best.

“Aw, c’mon.” Sam scowls. “Think of how much fun we could have with the whole charade?”

“Sorry, Sam.” Her tone holds a hint of reproach. “As entertaining as it might be to punk the paparazzi, I’m not really into the whole fake dating scene.”

Sam opens his mouth—no doubt to continue his campaign of persuasion—but I cut him off. “Enough, Masterson. Your sister’s made her decision.”

He subsides with a resigned shrug. “If you two change your minds, you know where to find me.”

With the subject effectively dropped, we lapse back into comfortable small talk and friendly banter over the remains of the pizza, but a tiny part of me can’t help dwelling on the idea of having Elyse as my girlfriend—even a pretend one.

It’s ridiculous, of course. A relationship with her, real or fabricated, would only lead to complications neither of us needs. Better to appreciate her from afar as the intelligent, compassionate, unfailingly, almost too damned cheerful woman she is.

Still…

I can’t quite smother a flicker of wistfulness as I watch her animated discussion with Sam, eyes sparkling with laughter. Having her by my side, even platonically, is more appealing than I ever imagined it could be.

Elyse’s eyes meet mine, and the corners of her mouth quirk upwards in a private little smile. Warmth blossoms in my chest, and for a brief, delirious moment, I imagine a different reality. One where I’m allowed to love this woman without restraint or fear of consequences.

The sudden rush of longing leaves me reeling. I quickly look away, busying myself with gathering empty plates and napkins. Get a grip, Ford. This is just friendly affection, nothing more. There’s no point in deluding myself otherwise.

I glance over at Elyse again, lingering on the curve of her lips as she laughs at something Sam says. Warmth blooms in my chest, that treacherous part of me whispering what if…

Before I can silence the thought, the words tumble from my mouth. “You know, Masterson might be onto something with this fake dating idea.”

Elyse’s laughter fades, her eyes widening in surprise. “Wait…what?”

Sam perks up, intrigued. “You’re actually considering it?”

I shrug, feigning nonchalance though my heart pounds in my ears. “Why not? It could be…fun.” The word feels inadequate, but I can’t bring myself to voice the depth of my yearning.

She shakes her head slowly. “Jack, I…” She trails off, biting her full lower lip. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“C’mon, sis.” Sam leans forward, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Buried under a mountain of casework and legal precedents,” she says dryly.

I can see the hint of temptation flickering in her gaze as it meets mine. She wants this, even if she won’t admit it aloud. Pressing my advantage, I say, “Think about it, Elyse. You’d have an all-access pass to my world. The locker room, the arena, the after-parties…” I let the suggestion hang, watching interest bloom in her eyes.

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