Page 13 of Flown in for Christmas

I take off my coat. “Here. Put this on.”

She mutely slips her arms in. I help her zip it and tug the hood over her head. I pull my hat on and grab her carry-on while keeping a hand on her lower back to guide her to the car. It’s not another few minutes before we’re finally alone and I’m cranking up the heat for us both.

I wait a beat to see if she’ll say something first, but she just stares ahead at my parents loading in their truck with Tucker.

Where do I start? “I need you to stay with me throughout the week as my fiancée.” There, that about sums it up.

She glances at me out of the corner of her eye, her makeup lightly smeared. “Youneedme to stay. Are you asking me or telling me, Mr. Davis?”

I fight back a wince at her tone. I’m getting the sense reality is sinking in for her and she may be a little…frustrated with me.Yeah, frustrated, we’ll go with that. “Uh, both?”

Her snort of laughter is sarcastic. She drags a hand down the side of her face. “How about you tell me what’s going on,Nick? ThenI’ll decide if I shouldn’t run back into that airport and wait for the next available flight to Dallas.”

“You’d be waiting until tomorrow night if you did,” I grumble.

The look she gives me is incredulous.

I sigh, rubbing my bristled chin. “My father’s always been a big family man—family comes first, and all that. My Uncle Steve was, too. They started Davis Sporting Goods together back in the 80s. Four years ago, my uncle died in a car accident.” I pause, shaking my head. “They always said DSG would be run by family and family alone, but my uncle had no biological children that my father was aware of, so the business fell to myself and my sister. Natalie was more interested in law school, so the family business fell on me.”

“And Mr. Hanes—Rich, is your…cousin?”

“My mother’s nephew.” I nod. “Anyway, about two years ago,Eric Davisshowed up. The long-lost bastard son of my late uncle. It was a shock to the family, to say the least. I mean, he just appeared out of thin air, demanding he get his cut of his late father’s legacy—out of Davis Sporting Goods.”

Joy’s brow furrows, tipping her head. “That’s a little…odd.”

I throw my hands in the air. “Exactly. Why my parents can’t see that, is beyond me. They welcomed him with open arms. It’s been a battle trying to get him to do anything related to actually working for the company. All he wants ismoney. He’s a snake, Joy, and he’s taken too much from this family already. I won’t allow him to take what’s rightfully mine. I won’t.”

She nods slowly, processing my outburst for all it’s worth.

I stare at the ring on her finger and my chest tightens. “That ring was my great grandmother’s,” I say as she follows my line of sight. “My father always told me he wanted the ring to be handed down to the Davis son who found love first. To continue the tradition started with my great grandfather. At the time, my uncle had no sons, so the ring was going to be mine no matter what.”

“He wanted the ring?” she asks, putting the pieces together.

“When I got here this morning, I found him in my father’s office, asking for the ring for a proposal he never intends on making. I couldn’t let him take the ring, Joy. I knew if he got his grimy hands on it, not only would I never see it again, but it wouldn’t stay in the family like my father wishes.” I sigh, fighting the words out, “I did the only thing I could think of… I told my father that I needed the ring because I intended to propose today as a surprise for them and…you.”

“Me?”

“You’re the only one I could think of at the time.” I don’t mention how, looking back, I wouldn’t choose anyone other than her. For this, that is.

The deep intake of breath she makes has my nerves breaking. I need her to go along with this. I need it. My family needs it. This has to work. At least for the week. “You’ll be compensated for your time however you see fit,” I say. “Within reason, of course.”

She raises a brow. “You want to pay me to lie to your family?”

“Yes.” To put it simply. “Rich is already drawing up something for you to sign. I can make a partial transfer by tomorrow morning into your account.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not a good liar, Mr. Davis.”

“Nick,” I correct her. “And that’s fine. You don’t have to lie…directly. I just need you to play my fiancée and stay at my parents’ house for the rest of the week.”

Her head falls back against the headrest, and she slips down into the extra depths of my oversized coat wrapped around her. Her brows are knitted together as she gnaws on her lush lower lip before her gaze drifts to me.

She’s going to say no. I can feel it.

“My father is sick, as I’m sure you noticed,” I say, playing the only card I have left. And a solid, pity card it is. “Pancreatic cancer, stage four. The doctors gave him a year to live.” I swallow hard remembering the pain I felt when I first heard the news. “That was six months ago. He’s responded well enough to treatment to buy him some time, but that doesn’t mean this won’t be his last Christmas with us.”

Her expression softens. “I’m so sorry.”

I rub the back of my neck. “It’s been a lot,” I confess. “I’m sorry I dragged you here, Joy. I wasn’t thinking straight earlier. I understand if you can’t stay.” It’s true, now that I say it. There’s been too much clouding my judgment lately. I’ve taken it out on the people closest to me and I’m suddenly ashamed I even thought up this ridiculous master plan to save my grandmother’s ring.

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