Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Nick leaned back into the overstuffed sofa, taking a slow sip of rich, dark espresso. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and something warmly spiced filled the air, mingling with the faint traces of lemon polish that clung to the antique wood furniture.
Taylor’s grandmother—who had insisted he call her Nana—placed a festive plate of delicate cookies on the coffee table at his side.
Nick’s gaze slid over the assorted treats, appreciating their precise arrangement. Homemade. Thoughtful. He reached for a small powdered sugar-covered confection, and when he took a bite, Nana’s smile widened in clear approval.
Across from him, Taylor’s green eyes flickered with something unreadable—relief, perhaps? Maybe even pleasure?
His temporary fiancée looked especially beautiful tonight.
The warm glow of the lamplight picked up the red undertones in her hair, making it appear like burnished copper. Her emerald eyes, sharp and luminous, shimmered as she watched the interaction unfold.
On impulse, Nick reached over and covered her hand with his, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze.
His palm pressed against the solid weight of the engagement ring—a ring that wasn’t really hers, a symbol of a lie they were both trying to sell.
But what surprised him wasn’t the cold metal against his skin—it was the coldness of her fingers.
She was nervous.
It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there.
Not as relaxed as she appeared, after all.
He filed the thought away for later. For now, he turned his attention to Bill Rollins, who, thankfully, had not insisted on anything more than “Bill.”
“Have you known Henry Waters long?” Nick asked, keeping his tone casual.
Bill paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “Actually… I’ve known Henry for almost thirty years. He and I have served on a couple of committees together, and we’ve golfed in the same league for years.” He tilted his head slightly. “How about you?”
Nick took a slow breath, thinking back to his first impression of Henry Waters.
Loud-mouthed. Overconfident. Drank too much.
That assessment hadn’t changed. But over the years, Nick had come to respect the man’s business instincts and unwavering loyalty—especially when it came to his friends and his family.
And that was the problem with Claire.
“I met him at a Rotary Golf Scramble several years ago,” Nick said finally.
“I didn’t know you golfed.”
Taylor’s soft voice broke into his thoughts, making him glance at her.
It was an innocent statement. A simple observation.
And yet, for the first time since arriving, Nick nearly groaned.
He covered it with a smile. “Sure you did, sweetheart.” He tilted his head, feigning amusement. “Remember we talked about going out to the Lodge sometime?”
Taylor’s lips parted slightly, understanding filling her eyes.
A second later, she let out a light laugh, the sound musical and effortless.
“How could I have forgotten?”
She was quick. He had to give her that.
Beside them, Bill’s face lit up.
“If you’re free on Friday morning, some friends and I get together for eighteen holes. We tee off at nine.”
Nick felt Taylor stiffen beside him.
Interesting.
Did she think he was going to bluntly refuse? That he would brush off the invitation and alienate a potential ally?
She didn’t know him as well as she thought.
Nick had built an empire on his ability to read people, to anticipate their expectations and deliver just enough to keep them satisfied.
He knew how to decline without offending.
He knew how to say no without ever actually saying it.
Nick opened his mouth, already preparing a gracious, tactical excuse?—
And then Taylor spoke.
“Grandpa, maybe Nick would like to know who else he’d be playing with.”
Her voice was soft, almost casual.
Nick’s gaze sharpened slightly.
Bill chuckled. “Of course, my dear.” His smile overflowed with love as he glanced at his granddaughter before turning back to Nick. “You might even know them—Jack Corrigan and Tom Watts.”
Nick’s stomach tightened.
His smile did not falter.
He leaned back, tilting his head in mock thoughtfulness.
“Jack and I have met.”
Technically, that wasn’t a lie.
Jack Corrigan had been one of the bidders for Henry’s company. One of the losers.
Bill’s brows lifted slightly. “Ah, that’s right. Jack had really counted on getting that bid.”
Nick’s teeth clenched behind his easy smile.
So.
That was why Corrigan was still cozying up to Henry.
The man was looking for an opening.
Waiting for a chance to make Henry change his mind.
Too bad he was wasting his time.
Nick would make sure of that.
He nearly turned down the invitation right then. Nearly.
Then paused.
There might be some value in being part of this foursome after all.
The refusal died on his tongue.
Instead, he smiled.
“Fridays are usually good for me,” he said smoothly. The lie slipped out easily.
Bill’s face lit up, clearly pleased. “Wonderful! We meet at the clubhouse for coffee at eight if you’d like to join us.”
Nick nodded, casually slipping an arm around Taylor’s shoulders, drawing her just a little closer.
“Works for me,” he said lightly.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Taylor’s lips part slightly, her gaze flickering with something unreadable.
Surprise, maybe.
Suspicion.
But Nick didn’t worry about that.
He had just scored major points tonight.
And in the grand game of deception, every small victory counted.
* * *
Utterly drained, Taylor leaned her head against the soft leather headrest, closing her eyes with a sigh.
The smooth purr of the Jaguar’s engine worked its way into her frayed nerves, each quiet hum of the wheels against the pavement soothing the lingering tension from the evening.
From the moment they had stepped foot into her grandparents’ house, every fiber of her being had been on alert.
The weight of this deception pressed down on her like a thousand bricks.
What had she been thinking?
How could she ever hope to convince two people who knew her better than anyone in the world that she was in love with Nicholas Lanagan?
And that he was in love with her?
It had been an impossible task.
And yet?—
She had underestimated Nick. Again.
With a warm smile and an easy charm, he had woven a perfect illusion of a man completely, irrevocably in love.
The most unsettling part?
He had been so good, she had almost believed him herself.
She could see now why he had built a business empire. His confidence, his ability to persuade, his way of making people feel what he wanted them to feel—it was impressive.
And dangerous.
“Nick…” Her voice was quieter than she intended. “Did you feel—I don’t know—uncomfortable at all this evening?”
He chuckled, the deep timbre of his voice vibrating through the air.
“Will you bite my head off if I say no?”
Taylor sighed heavily, rubbing at her temple. “They loved you.” She glanced at him in the dim interior of the car. “Your champagne toast brought tears to Nana’s eyes.”
Nick shrugged, smirking. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Taylor groaned. “I’m just worried?—”
“You worry too much.”
A year ago, worry and Taylor Rollins would never have been mentioned in the same breath.
She had once been carefree, impulsive, untethered.
Now?
Now she was this.
“I just hope they won’t be too upset when we break up.” Her voice was softer now, more vulnerable than she wanted it to be. “They’ve been hurt enough for one lifetime.”
Nick’s expression sobered slightly.
“Losing their daughter-in-law and then their son… that would have been tough.”
A chill settled in the car, nothing to do with the air conditioning.
Taylor swallowed hard.
Her mother had been gone for over ten years, but discussing her father’s death still made her chest tighten painfully.
“It was horrible.”
Nick was silent for a long moment.
Then—gently, “Did your father and his parents have a close relationship?”
Taylor let out a small, bitter laugh.
“He was their only son. The light of their life.”
Nick’s eyes flicked toward her, his voice carefully neutral. “You sound bitter.”
Taylor hesitated.
“Do I?” She frowned. “I don’t mean to. I mean… I’m not.” She let out a slow breath. “My father was a great guy.”
Nick didn’t speak, but she could feel his curiosity pressing in the air between them.
“Tell me about him.”
Taylor turned her head, her brows lifting slightly.
“Why?”
Nick’s grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
“Your grandfather mentioned him several times tonight.” He paused. “He seemed to assume I already knew all about him.”
Taylor stared at him for a beat.
Then it clicked.
“My grandpa obviously likes you.” A small, sad smile touched her lips. “He doesn’t talk about my father much anymore.”
“He did to me.”
Taylor swallowed.
She knew why.
Nick had played the adoring fiancé so well that her grandfather had lowered his guard.
She forced herself to stay detached.
“You played a very convincing leading man tonight,” she murmured.
Nick’s mouth quirked. “That toast—how did I put it again?”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “To the woman who made me realize that I could have all the riches in the world but be poor without her by my side.”
“And don’t forget,” he added, “the part where I said you were my best friend.”
Taylor turned her head sharply, studying his profile.
His best friend?
Her heart stuttered unexpectedly.
Nana had been moved. Even Grandpa Bill had gotten misty-eyed.
Nick shot her a crooked grin. “Your grandparents seemed to find it very touching.”
Taylor exhaled sharply and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest.
The worst part?
She wasn’t even angry about it.
Nick had that undeniable quality, the romantic-hero type appeal that made people—made her—want to believe him.
Actresses always fall in love with their leading men.
Nonsense.
She wasn’t some naive Hollywood starlet.
She was a responsible adult who knew the line between fiction and reality.
She had a job to do.
And as long as she remembered she was playing a role?—
She’d be just fine.
No matter how realistic the part felt.
No matter how handsome the leading man was.
* * *
The Cedar Ridge Country Club hummed with life on Friday morning, the early sunlight spilling across the pristine greens. The rhythmic thwack of golf balls echoed across the fairways as groups of players teed off under a cloudless sky. Though tee times had begun as early as six a.m., the nine o’clock slot had attracted a different crowd—one less concerned with beating the sunrise and more content to linger over coffee in the clubhouse before stepping onto the course.
Nick sat at a round table with Grandpa Bill and his two friends, feeling an odd mixture of relaxation and vigilance. He appreciated the easy camaraderie of the group, but he wasn’t blind to the dynamics at play.
Tom Watts, a retired attorney, seemed like a pleasant enough guy—affable, chatty, the type of man who enjoyed a leisurely game more for the conversation than the competition.
Jack Corrigan, on the other hand, was a different story. A businessman through and through, his sharp gaze hinted at a mind always calculating, always assessing. Given that Nick and Jack had been on opposite ends of a few deals in the past, it wasn’t lost on him that the older man might be eyeing this breakfast as more than just a friendly gathering.
And Bill—Bill was watching him, too.
The announcement of Nick and Taylor’s engagement had sent a ripple of surprise through the group, and while Tom had simply raised his eyebrows, Jack’s interest had sharpened.
"Congrats on your engagement." Jack leaned back in his chair, his smile easy, but his tone laced with curiosity. "I didn’t even realize Taylor was dating anyone."
A subtle shift passed between the men. Nick could feel it, the unspoken question hanging in the air.
Jack turned his attention to Bill. "You never mentioned that."
Bill shrugged, his mouth twitching in a small, unreadable smile. "I didn’t know."
Tom frowned slightly. "Didn’t Taylor just move here three months ago?" His confusion was evident, his brow furrowing. "That’s quite the whirlwind romance."
Nick felt the weight of their stares. He took a measured sip of his coffee, keeping his expression smooth. This wasn’t his first time maneuvering through high-stakes conversations—though he usually wasn’t playing defense in matters of his personal life.
"She did," he answered, keeping his voice casual. "But we go back further than that."
He set his cup down deliberately. "Taylor worked at ComTech in Denver before moving here." A pause. Just enough to let that fact settle. "I’ve had dealings with ComTech. And, well… I get to Denver quite often. More so in the last year."
It wasn’t a lie. Not entirely. But it was just vague enough to sidestep the questions he really didn’t want to answer.
Bill studied him for a beat before letting out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Now I understand why Taylor was so eager to move here."
Nick tensed.
Bill’s eyes twinkled as he leaned back in his chair. "She said it was to be closer to Kaye and me, but I’m guessing some of it had to do with this guy."
He jerked a thumb in Nick’s direction, and Tom let out a laugh while Jack lifted his coffee cup, watching the exchange with keen interest.
Nick forced a modest smile. "I can’t imagine not being in the same town as my fiancée."
The words came out smoothly, but beneath the table, he curled his fingers into his palm, aware of just how thin the ice was beneath him.
Bill nodded approvingly. "Well, we’ve always hoped Taylor would find the right man." His expression softened, sincerity edging his words. "And the fact that you golf?" He grinned, giving Nick a knowing look. "Well, that’s just an extra plus."
Nick exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The moment of scrutiny passed, replaced by easy conversation as the men turned their attention back to their coffee and their upcoming round of golf. But Nick couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the game had already begun—long before they ever stepped onto the course.