Page 10 of Home Run Fiancé
The butterflies take flight in my stomach. For better or worse, I’m in this farce of an engagement whether I like it or not.
Jake holds his arms out from his sides, an annoying smile on his face. “Where’s the hug for your boyfriend?”
I roll my eyes and act like I’m coming in for the hug. Right before his arms can close around me, I give his rock-hard chest a push and walk away.
“Ohhhh…burn, man.” Asher laughs and smacks Jake on the back.
I hustle to grab my purse, discreetly rubbing my hand against my dress, trying to wipe away the feel of him from my skin. His heat, his muscles, the velvety soft feel of his T-shirt; his masculinity is potent and I intend to steer clear of it. I’ll pretend for the cameras, but when they’re not around, I need to keep my distance.
This relationship won’t be a touchdown, complete with celebration and butt-slapping. It’ll be a simple free throw or whatever they call it, easily forgotten and quick to move on from.
“Rhys.” His voice, the simple rumble a clear command my body listens to, rings out across the apartment.
I stop walking, but don’t turn around. Closing my eyes, I hope he’ll just let me leave. He’s near me again, that damn body heat like a furnace.
“Thank you for doing this.” His simple whispered thanks sounds so heartfelt I spin around, needing to verify with his expression. His eyes are a deep brown, no hint of a smirk. We stand there, two strangers about to embark on an intimate journey, all for show.
His hand extends between us. I look down and see the callouses that line his palm. They’re hands that could hurt me so easily and yet I feel no fear. He may irritate me to no end, but on a deeper level I trust him.
I place my hand in his for the second time tonight.
And we shake on it.
5
Jake
Pacing my condo has become my new habit the last two weeks. I’m anxious to get going on my plan to roll out my relationship with Rhys, but she’s been busy getting dresses and crap like that. Asher told me he set her up with someone at a little boutique in Beverly Hills so she could get all the outfits she’d need when she went out with me. I’m sure that cost me a pretty penny, but I don’t care. Nothing’s too expensive for getting that contract with the Sliders.
You know, if we ever go on those dates, get engaged, and spruce up my reputation. The clock is ticking and our first date, happening in T-minus thirty minutes, is long overdue.
Mama called last night, her voice sounding weaker than I’ve ever heard it. I nearly panicked and booked a red-eye to go see her, but Damon, my little brother, finally talked me out of it around midnight. He swears he has everything handled, but I can hear the fatigue in his voice just the same. The guy should be focused on finishing up college, not caring for our mama by himself. Yeah, sure, I hired some of the best nurses Texas has to offer to help carry the load, but I should be there in person.
My phone rings and brings me out of my black cloud of contemplation.
“Hey, Asher.” He better not be calling to tell me Rhys has bailed on our plans tonight.
“Rhys just texted she’s on her way to your place.”
Relief courses through me. It’s just a matter of time before everything falls into place. I can’t stand waiting around without actuallydoingsomething to fix my situation.
“Okay, great. Thanks for letting me know.” I’m about to hang up when he cuts in, a sharpness to his voice that’s highly unusual for Asher.
“Listen, she’s my sister so I have to say this. You be good to her. You treat her like you would your own sister. And you better keep your hands to yourself. We clear?”
I smile despite the thinly veiled threat; glad he can’t see my humor through the phone. “I hear you and let me assure you. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise.”
I hear him blow out a deep breath and then he’s all business. “Reservations are for seven thirty. I’ll tip off the paparazzi around seven.”
“Sounds good. Thank you, Asher.”
I hang up and pull on a sports coat over my button-down shirt, wanting to look like a card-carrying adult for this date. Taking another look at myself in the mirror, I’m surprised by the nerves I feel. I’m usually only this level nervous right before a game. The doorbell rings and I push the anxious feelings aside. Now’s not the time to choke. My whole future rides on these dates going well.
I barely get my hand on the doorknob when Rhys begins to pound on the door.
Swinging it open, I give her a swarmy smile. “Eager for our date, gorgeous?”
And thank goodness the smirk is already in place, otherwise my jaw would have hit the floor at the vision that stands on my doorstep. Rhys is wearing a shimmery silver maxi dress that cinches her tiny waist with crisscrossed leather straps like something straight out of ancient Greece. Her hair’s curled and just the front pieces are pulled back in some elaborate design that women do and men can never figure out. She must have some killer heels on because she’s much taller than the last time I saw her.
