Page 2 of Fake Dating My Valentine

She chuckled, but her eyes were sympathetic. "Would it really be so terrible to let them play matchmaker?"

"Yes!" I buried my face in my hands. "They'll pair me with Jordy Wright, who still hasn't outgrown his nose-picking habit from second grade. Or Bobby Nelson, who thinks a woman's place is barefoot in the kitchen, popping out babies."

"What about Mac?"

Mac Lancaster was Nix's boyfriend's brother. And we had all met around the same time Nix and Lee were hooking up last Christmas.

"The touring rock star isn't exactly local boyfriend material," I sighed. "Besides, we tried that already."

"Really? I always thought there was something there."

"Nah. We kissed once, but the chemistry was more dead than last week's sourdough starter. Which is completely unfair given how ridiculously attractive he is. Now I'm just friends with a rock star."

"Congratulations?" She slipped the last batch of cookies into the oven. "But being Mac's platonic friend won't save you from the Brigade."

"No, it won't." I slumped against the counter, mind racing through possibilities. "But I'll figure something out. I have to."

"Let me know if you need backup." Nix gathered a stack of bakery boxes. "I need to make these deliveries before heading to Lee's, unless you need anything?"

"Go ahead."

"Shoot." She patted her pockets. "Left my keys at home when Lee picked me up."

I straightened, seeing my escape route. "I'll get them!"

Nix frowned. "That makes zero sense."

"I need to clear my head before the Brigade strikes. I'll grab the keys while you work your magic with those sandwiches."

"Fine," she conceded.

"You and Lee really should move in together. Living on opposite sides of town is ridiculous."

"We're discussing it. Lee's ready, but I need to talk to Ryan about the house first." She bit her lip. "He should be home soon."

The cool January air cleared my head as I drove my little blue sedan toward Nix's farmhouse. The familiar route calmed my racing thoughts, though I still hadn't crafted an escape plan by the time I pulled into her gravel driveway.

The key bowl by the door was empty, sending me on a scavenger hunt through the living room, kitchen, and laundry room. Nothing. "Great." I trudged upstairs, mentally listing potential solutions to my Valentine's Day predicament.

Lost in thought, I collided with what felt like a warm brick wall. Only this wall was breathing, scarred, tattooed, and rippling with muscle. A towel hung precariously low on sculptured hips, and droplets of water traced paths down abs that belonged in an anatomy textbook.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the magnificent sight. Who needed art museums when this masterpiece was right here?

"Torey?"

The deep, amused voice finally registered, forcing my gaze up past the broad chest to familiar green eyes dancing with mischief.

"Ryan."

My best friend's older brother stood before me in nothing but a towel, and holy hell, the years away had been very, very good to him.

Was I enjoying the show?

Absolutely.

Chapter 2

Ryan

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