Page 11 of Claiming the Fake Boyfriend
As I walk away on unsteady legs, I glance back to see Callie saying something to Tucker, her expression intense.
His eyes, however, remain fixed on me, dark and wanting in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
Chapter 4 – Tucker
I've never been jealous. It's not in my emotional vocabulary.
Yet here I am, watching some groomsman in a rented tux lean too close to Amber as they chat by the dessert table, and I'm contemplating the physics of how far I could throw a man while wearing Italian leather shoes.
"You might want to tone down the death stare," Ryan remarks beside me, amused. "People will think you're actually dating her."
I tear my eyes away from Amber—who looks unfairly gorgeous as she laughs at whatever lame joke the groomsman is telling her—and take a pull of my beer. "That's the point, isn't it?"
Ryan gives me a knowing look. "Sure. Except you're not acting for Callie's benefit anymore. She left twenty minutes ago."
Damn. He's right.
So why am I still tracking Amber's every movement like she's the center of my universe?
That kiss didn't help. It was supposed to be strategic, a clear message to Callie. Instead, the moment Amber's lips touched mine, something shifted. Like a key turning in a lock I didn't know existed.
"It's complicated," I mutter.
Ryan snorts. "Sure it is, buddy." He claps me on the shoulder. "Just remember, she thinks this is all pretend. You might want to clue her in if that's changed."
Before I can respond, the wedding band switches tempo, and the lead singer's voice booms across the reception area.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The bride and groom have a special surprise. Mia and Bradley are both championship ballroom dancers, and they've decided to share their passion with a little friendly competition!"
The crowd murmurs with interest as the singer continues. "Three couples will be randomly selected to join our newlyweds on the dance floor. The audience will judge the winner, who'll receive a special prize!"
I straighten, a grin spreading across my face. This is perfect.
"And our first couple is..." The singer makes a show of selecting from cards. "Tucker Hughes and Amber Hill!"
Amber's head whips around, her eyes finding mine across the room in panic. I just wink and start toward her, ignoring the whoops and applause. The groomsman wisely steps aside as I approach.
"Ready to show them how it's done?" I ask, extending my hand.
"Tucker," she hisses, "I can't dance. Not like this. Not in front of everyone."
"Sure you can." I tug her gently toward the dance floor. "Just follow my lead."
"That's the problem. I don't know how to follow."
I lean close, my lips brushing her ear. "Now why don't I believe that?"
Her cheeks flush that delicious pink I'm becoming addicted to, but she allows me to guide her to the center of the dance floor. The other selected couples join us—Mia's sister with her husband, and an older couple who look suspiciously professional.
"The dance will be..." The singer pauses dramatically. "Tango!"
Amber's eyes widen. "You have got to be kidding me."
I place my hand at the small of her back, drawing her against me. "Trust me," I murmur. "My mother was a dance instructor. I've got you."
"You never mentioned that," she whispers, her body tense against mine.
"Never came up." I position us in the starting pose. "Just feel the music and let me guide you. The tango is all about passion and connection."
