Page 83 of Just One Fake Date

“Why does that feel like too easy of a victory?” he asked and she laughed again.

“I like talking to you, Tyler McKay, and not just because you helped me get my furniture home. Not just because you’re a sharp-dressed man, either.” She stepped closer, then stretched up to whisper, her proximity making everything tighten within him. “And certainly not just because you took it as a personal challenge to make me scream in bed and succeeded.”

“Why then?” he murmured, wondering what she’d say this time.

She wrinkled her nose. “I just like throwing your game. It’s unexpectedly satisfying.”

“Well, you really nailed that on Saturday.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t get used to it. There is no slippery slope with this fake date.” With a cheerful smile and a wave, she hefted her sewing machine and headed for the train. Ty stood watching her go, even though he was late, feeling both better and a little worse.

Then he shook his head and continued into the club, amazed by the influence one woman had over him in just a week.

Eleven

There wasno doubt that Tyler McKay liked fixing things, but Shannyn was surprised by how much she liked having him fix things for her. She’d always solved her own problems, especially since the divorce, and took particular pride in her independence since Cole had left. It was easier to have a little help, though. Tyler made it look so effortless, and yet, his solutions weren’t quick or sloppy. They were adjusted and calculated to fit perfectly.

Curated, even.

There was a measure of confidence in it that was alien to Shannyn. She wondered if he had ever wanted anything he couldn’t have. Maybe Princess Paige wasn’t alone in her expectations.

Maybe some people were just born lucky.

Shannyn wouldn’t know about that.

She thought about him all the way home on the subway, wishing she’d thought to take a picture of his astonished reaction. She’d bet he wasn’t surprised very often. When she was carrying her prize the last few endless blocks home, she wondered about the wisdom of her own insistence on taking the machine home on the train.

Dinner. A bridal shower. The slippery slope was real—especially as she liked spending time with him so much. Even if he had taken it as a challenge to prove to her that he was nice, she didn’t have to tell him he’d already succeeded. She’d save that for the wedding and—mission accomplished—he’d vanish right on cue. In the meantime, surely Shannyn could be smart enough to just enjoy herself and not develop romantic expectations? She was supposed to be living in the moment now and savoring opportunity. This was a good one.

Maybe she should challenge herself. Ha.

Maybe she should take a lesson from the success of teamwork with Tyler and reach out for more. Not from him—she’d ask Kirsten for advice about him.

Shannyn textedKirsten and they set up a time later that evening for a long chat. She fed Fitzwilliam, listened to his comments on his day and polished the furniture a little more while her leftovers heated up. Maybe she’d cook on Friday. The Met had paid her bill already, which was a total bonus, and she was in a good mood by the time Kirsten called.

She didn’t hold back. She told Kirsten everything and answered all her questions, then waited for the verdict.

“Wow,” Kirsten said. “Your old dream come true.”

“Kind of. But it’s not a real relationship.”

Kirsten laughed. “Even though it’s starting to sound like one.”

“It’s just convenient.”

“And that’s why you’re inviting him to be your date at our wedding.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll be busy taking your wedding photos.”

“He sounds like he’d survive on his own.”

“I’m not inviting him.”

“It would be interesting to see you two together.”

“Kirsten! You’re supposed to be helping.”

“Okay. The one thing you two have in common is that you don’t want more than a fake date.”

---