Page 3 of Claiming the Fake Boyfriend
The question catches me off guard. "Um, no. Just me."
"No date? I find that hard to believe." He opens the passenger door for me, an old-fashioned gesture that shouldn't make my heart flutter but somehow does.
I debate how much to share with this virtual stranger, then decide on the simplified truth. "Recent breakup. Not really looking to jump back into dating."
Tucker nods, something like understanding passing across his face. "Classic small-town nightmare."
"Exactly." I slide into the passenger seat, surprised at how easy it is to talk to him. "I'm not looking forward to the pity looks."
He closes my door and walks around to the driver's side, sliding in beside me. The cab smells like leather and cedar with a hint of coffee. "You know what stops pity in its tracks?" he asks as he starts the engine.
"What's that?"
"Showing up with someone new." His eyes meet mine, a mixture of mischief and something I can't quite read. "Preferably someone who makes everyone wonder how you traded up so spectacularly."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"
Tucker pulls out onto Foxglove Lane, the truck rumbling pleasantly beneath us. "I might be. Coincidentally, I also need a date for a wedding tomorrow."
"What a strange coincidence," I say, my pulse quickening despite my better judgment. "And why does the notorious Tucker Hughes need a wedding date? I thought you had women lining up around the block."
His smile dims slightly. "Let's just say there's someone who'll be there that I'd rather not deal with alone."
"An ex?" I venture.
"The ex," he confirms, his knuckles whitening slightly on the steering wheel. "She's back in town and seems to think we have unfinished business."
"And you disagree?"
"Strongly." He glances at me. "So what do you say, Amber Hill? Want to be my fake date for the wedding? I'll be your arm candy, you'll be my shield, and we'll give the Whitetail Falls gossip mill something new to talk about."
I should say no. This is a terrible idea. I barely know him, despite his local fame.
But as the golden autumn light filters through the truck windows and the smell of fallen leaves drifts in through the vents, I find myself considering it. No more pitying looks. No more awkward questions about Cameron. Just one day of pretending with a ridiculously attractive man.
"I'd need to know the ground rules," I hear myself saying.
Tucker's slow smile is dangerously appealing. "I'm all about rules."
"Why do I find that hard to believe?" I murmur.
Chapter 2 – Tucker
I don't do nervous. Anticipation, sure. Strategic planning, absolutely. But nervous? Not my style.
Yet here I am, standing in front of my bathroom mirror, retying this damn tie for the third time and wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into.
"It's just a fake date," I remind my reflection as I smooth down the collar of my navy button-up. "With a woman you barely know. For a wedding you didn't even want to attend."
I shake everything away and check my watch. Time to go.
The autumn evening wraps around me as I climb into my truck, the air crisp with the promise of the first real cold snap. Whitetail Falls is showing off tonight—trees ablaze with color, storefronts decorated with pumpkins and corn husks, the lampposts along Main Street wrapped in twinkling lights. It's postcard-perfect, especially with the harvest moon rising over the distant mountains.
I pull up to Amber's cottage on Maple Lane exactly on time. It's a charming little place, with a front porch lined with mums and a wreath made of golden leaves on the door. Very Amber, though I'm not sure how I know that after spending just a few hours with her this afternoon.
Those few hours had been... unexpected. What started as a simple offer to drive her around for errands turned into genuine enjoyment as we checked off her wedding prep list. She'd been organized, focused, and surprisingly funny, especially when dealing with the flustered florist who'd nearly forgotten the bride's bouquet.
"Just breathe, Martha," she'd said, her voice calm and warm. "We still have sixteen hours. That's practically a lifetime in wedding planning."
