Page 12 of Faking Ever After

We reached the harbor laughing and adding silly details to our first date that nobody was ever going to hear. It was nobody’s business that Finn went out with me wearing edible underwear or that I was so indecisive about kissing him by the end of the date that I stumbled and kissed the merest corner of his lips like a teenager at his prom night. So I let Finn make up ridiculous stories and enjoyed the vivid imagination that swirled around his head.

“Speaking of kissing,” I said awkwardly.

Finn gulped, tension visibly entering his body. Of course, he wouldn’t want to just smooch around in order to make our story more believable.

I cleared my throat. “I’m not a big fan of public displays of affection,” I said. “So that should cover it.”

“Oh.” Finn’s eyebrows shot up. He must have been relieved. “Okay.”

We walked along the harbor, where the scents of grilled food mixed with the salt in the air.

After a while of total silence, Finn sucked his teeth. “But if push comes to shove and we justhave toassure them we’re really boyfriends, you should know that I don’t have any diseases or whatever. We can survive a kiss.”

My heart stumbled. “Um, oh, right, okay. That sounds good.” Then, scratching the back of my head, I parsed through his words more carefully. “I’m also clean. I can show you my most recent results.”

He nodded.

It wasn’t like we’d be exploring each other’s mouths this entire time. And that thought made me glance at his lips.You probably taste like honey and the sweetest summer wine.Not that I would assume he wanted me to kiss him. Still, if we were absolutely forced to, it was good to know he wouldn’t mind taking that bullet for me.

“Did I thank you for doing this?” I asked absent-mindedly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Finn said. “We haven’t even started.”

That thought was enough to send my heart into panic-beating mode. Tomorrow. We would cross that bridge tomorrow.

CHAPTER 5

Finn

The time tocontinue our journey came before I had a chance to decide if I looked forward to or dreaded the destination. Percy Davenport was of absolutely no help at all. Not only had he tossed aside all my brilliant meet-cute ideas, but he kept warning me about his family whenever the topic came up. And in some moments when we were as far from the topic of his parents as you could get. Mentioning that strawberries were my favorite fruit, in case he needed to order a convincing dessert for me, brought on a shudder about his mother. When I asked, he didn’t elaborate and simply looked into my eyes and told me I would know it when I saw it.

The morning found me sprawled out in the huge bed and with a sad view of Percy curled up on the sofa. Rich people didn’t need pull-outs, apparently, and bringing a fake boyfriend to a beach resort was too narrow of a niche for a service to develop. I jotted down a business idea right there before scanning the vast, empty space of the bed where my shorts and shirt lay. Hopping out of bed, I hummed to myself as I dressed.

When I turned around, zipping up my linen shorts, I realized Percy was awake and watching me. The moment when heat touched my cheeks, because he had observed my nearly-nakedself putting on clothes, passed when the light cover fell off his torso. He sat up, his chest bare and sculpted, his abs chiseled with master-like precision. I looked at his round shoulders, at the steep rise of his trapezius leading to his long neck, and caught myself before I drooled.

I wouldn’t mind faking all sorts of things with you, I thought and promptly spun away. I’d danced a careful dance with a billionaire not that long ago, working hard to keep that fucked at arm’s length, seducing him enough to slip my hand into his pocket in search of evidence, but never so much that he lost all control and did things to me. Even so, just thinking about flirting with someone who lived in the clouds and ate gold flakes for breakfast annoyed me.

The shuffling noises told me Percy was a tad more decent and less eye-pleasing now, so I looked at him over my shoulder. “Ready for the big day?”

“Don’t be silly,” he grumbled.

I lifted my hands in surrender. “Somebody’s a ‘don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee’ person.”

“I’m more of a ‘don’t tease me until I’ve finished this family visit’ type,” he said, strolling past me into the bathroom. Unfortunately, Percy’s idea of decency was a pair of swimming shorts and rubber flip-flops. He didn’t bother to cover the perfection of his torso. His back was almost as appealing as his front, all rippling hills and valleys of his defined muscles.

Just my luck, I thought sourly. But it could have been worse. He could have been a pervert thinking he owned me just because I’d agreed to this silly game.

I rummaged through my backpack and double-checked that the USB drive was zipped tightly in a pocket that was much more secure than what my shorts had. Slinking the backpack over my shoulder, I was ready for our adventure.

It was still early when Percy tossed on a billowy light cream shirt with buttons barely done to hold the fabric ever so slightly together and led me to the car. A chauffeur covered the perfectly walkable distance between the villa and the harbor.

When we got out of the car and the chauffeur loaded our—it was mostly Percy’s—luggage, a frown rippled over my face. The long strip of the harbor was lined with yachts ranging from slightly larger than a fishing boat to some that looked like they had tiny little living quarters below the deck, but none seemed like they housed a permanent staff of thirty people and sported a helicopter pad. “Is…that it?” I asked.

Percy shot me a weird look I couldn’t decipher. It almost looked like this entertained him. “What did you expect?”

I rolled my shoulders in a half-shrug. “At least a superyacht.”

Percy tilted his head at a sleek, black yacht with a fairly long deck. There was an upper level with a steering wheel and seating area, and enough room below the deck to have sleeping quarters, perhaps a small kitchenette and a shower, and probably a sitting room of sorts. It was elegant in all its detail, from the brown wood of the deck to the cream faux leather furniture. “Come aboard,” Percy called after me and lifted a couple of his suitcases. His chauffeur loaded the rest and I finally crossed the plank and came aboard his yacht. “This is the only luxury I actually care about,” Percy explained as he loaded the luggage under the deck. He climbed out and onto the upper level, started the engine, and leaned against the wheel while waiting for me.

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