Page 39 of Fake Fiancé for the Billionaire Rockstar

Her skin turns back to normal, and she rolls her eyes. “I highly doubt that is what you had in mind.”

She has no idea the things running through my mind right now, and if she did, she’d probably blush from head to toe.

Trying to ease the tension, I decide to change the subject. "Hey, Sunshine, what's your favorite childhood memory? I realize I don't know much about you."

She looks surprised by the question, but then a soft smile plays on her lips. "Oh, that's easy. It was the Christmas I got my first puppy, Max. He was this tiny golden retriever with paws too big for his body. I woke up to find him under the tree with a big red bow, and I've never felt joy like that since."

Her eyes light up as she speaks, and I can't help but smile at the image of a young Carmen with her puppy. "Sounds magical. What happened to Max?"

"He lived a long, happy life. Passed away when I was in college," she says, a hint of sadness in her voice. "But those memories? They're priceless."

I nod, appreciating this glimpse into her past. "Thanks for sharing that with me, Carmen."

Clearing my throat, I continue, "Let me make dinner for you tonight," I say, my voice low and intimate. "To thank you for... everything." I say sweetly, hoping it will further ease the tension that's been hanging heavily in the air.

“Seems as though I may not have a choice,” she mutters, her attention turning toward the front door with a frown.

“Gee, such excitement.”

Her eyes flick to me, a hint of amusement in them. “I’ll have dinner with you.”

“Dress for the occasion, Sunshine.”

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the ghost of a smile. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Whatever you say,” I reply, my voice low and teasing. “But I’m still going to make it special. After all, what kind of fiancé would I be if I didn’t?”

She quirks an eyebrow, but I catch the slight upturn of her lips. It’s small, but it’s progress. And I’m determined to make the most of this situation, one way or another.

“Eat up while it’s hot.”

The silence that surrounds us as we eat is enough to have me thinking about how I can make dinner tonight the best it can be for her.

I start mentally inventorying our supplies, planning a menu that will impress her. Maybe I can’t take her to a fancy restaurant, but I can bring the restaurant to her. The challenge of it, of making something special in these circumstances, thrills me.

I can tell she’s slowly warming up to me. The truth is, I’m hellbent on getting her to warm up to me because of that kiss. It hit me harder than I expected, stirring up feelings I wasn’t ready for—and still don’t fully understand.

I’ve always been drawn to Carmen’s fire, but being trapped here with her like this? Those feelings are becoming primal, and keeping my hands off her is becoming damn near impossible.

***

As the day slipped into dusk, the cabin’s small kitchen became the heart of our evening. The sizzle of chicken hitting the pan, mixed with the rich aroma of garlic and herbs, filled the space, a comforting contrast to the wind howling outside. The storm hadn’t let up, its presence a constant reminder of why we were still here.

Once I finish stirring the alfredo and set it to simmer with the seared chicken, I quickly head to the bathroom outside the bedroom to change into something a bit more suitable fordinner. I settled on a pair of jeans, without the usual holes, and a simple tee, not too dressy but not overly casual. There’s a good chance Carmen’s going to show up in pajamas, despite my suggestion to dress for a date, so I’m aiming for the middle ground.

After a quick attempt to tame my unruly curls—because of course, they refuse to cooperate—I run my fingers through them, trying to smooth the wildness. If there’s one thing I hate about curly hair, it’s how it seems to have a mind of its own, especially after spending the day messing with it.

Luckily, I was so preoccupied about the dinner that I haven’t had much time to think about the fact that we’re still locked up in here with no signs of the weather getting hot enough to thaw the door. Walker could’ve easily made a move to unthaw it for us, get the door open, but I haven’t seen much of him each time I looked out the window.

Maybe we aren’t the only ones frozen inside?

When I pull open the door, I’m not expecting Carmen to be ready on time, but there she is, standing in the middle of the living room. The dress clings to her curves, and she’s looking around, clearly searching for me. I pause, silently taking her in, a surge of pride and desire rising as I watch her.

She’s got her hair falling down her back in waves, the strands looking smooth enough that my fingers are itching to reach out and thread through them. The silky dress she’s got on doesn’t hide anything from the imagination and I’m certain that if sheturns around, I’m going to get an eyeful of something I’ll never be able to forget. I glance down at the black heels she’s got on, the straps wrapping around her ankle, and I get a brief image of her standing in front of me with only those heels on.

It’s enough to have me groaning, which startles her, and she spins around to face me.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for what that would be like. The breath has been knocked from my lungs as I look into her bright gaze, shining unnaturally under the dim lighting from the kitchen. She glances over my frame, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, and I realize she probably thinks she’s overdressed for the night.

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