18. Coraline
18
CORALINE
“Absolutely not.”
“You didn’t even think about it,” he volleys.
I spare only a glance at him, because I know if I look too long, I’ll get distracted by the . . . whole package. And I do mean package. Those coveralls he’s wearing look like they’re painted on, open and hanging from his hips. And that tight black tee he’s wearing leaves literally nothing to the imagination. He looks like he belongs in one of those hot guy calendars.
“I don’t need to think about it. We’re not making a fake relationship permanent. That’s . . . that’s just a regular relationship,” I stammer out, my cheeks flushing with warmth.
There’s a little flutter inside my chest. But I’m almost positive it’s a reaction to too much caffeine today. Definitely not because he’s proposing we keep up some kind of charade.
“Nah, baby. It’s the answer to all our problems.” He grins, so proud of this little revelation of his.
I arch a brow and cross my arms over my chest. “I wasn’t aware we had shared problems.”
He steps closer, the fresh scent of ocean breeze floating around me. “You’ve got an overbearing ex, yeah? If you’re with me, he’s not gonna bother you anymore.”
I shift my weight to my other foot, trying to ignore the way my heart quickens at the mention of Grant. “He’s not really bothering me. Last night was a fluke thing.”
“Hm. I’m not so sure about that. Here, come take a look at this.” He raises his hand, fingers curled to beckon me. “Please,” He murmurs.
I hum under my breath, appreciation brimming in my veins. “I do like to hear you beg.”
He arches one dark brow, his full lips curling into a slow smile. The same lips that were all over me last night. A hot flash of arousal washes over me as the memory slams into my mind, unbidden.
“You want to see me beg, baby?”
I reluctantly step forward, unable to resist this push-pull dynamic we have. It feels less abrasive than it used to. “What did you want to show me?”
He grasps my hand and gently tugs me toward my car. “I popped your hood this morning, figured out pretty quickly what happened. See anything missing?”
I’m lost as I stare at the engine and whatever else all this stuff is. “Not really.”
He drops my hand, his fingertips taking their sweet time to leave my skin. He leans over, pointing at various things as he says, “Okay, so you have your battery here. This is the starter motor, and the solenoid is mounted on top. You need all these things to start a car, right? But you need the starter solenoid wire to connect them. Sometimes they get disconnected or unplugged.”
“Okay,” I drag the word out, trying to follow his impromptu mechanics lesson. “So the wire got disconnected?”
He stands to his full height and taps his fingers along the car. “Strangest thing, baby, your starter solenoid wire is just gone. Not damaged or unplugged but completely missing as if it were never there.”
I shake my head, my thoughts stuttering a little bit as I try to understand what he’s saying. “So I need a whole new one?”
“I took care of it already. Ordered one this morning, and it should arrive this afternoon. But you’re missing the most important part.”
“What’s that?”
He gestures to the starter motor. “Someone did this to your car on purpose. And I think it was your shitbag ex, good ol’ Gerry.”
“Grant,” I correct with a frown. “I don’t know, that seems a little intense.” I mean, what would be the goal of stranding me at Grand Avenue last night? He didn’t even know I was going to be there. Right ?
I tilt my head to the side and look at him. “How do I know you didn’t do this as some elaborate scheme to get me to agree to fake date you or . . . whatever this is,” I trail off, waving my hand between the two of us, like that awkward gesture explains everything.
He chuckles as he props one hip against the front of my car. “I think it’s much more likely that Gus orchestrated the whole thing. He fucked with your car and then just happened to show up with his merry band of assholes.”
“Maybe,” I murmur, tucking my lips over my teeth. “But you know this whole little spiel would be more convincing if you stopped pretending you don’t know his name.”
“I know more than his name,” he says, giving me a pointed look. “But that’s a story for another time. Right now, we need to focus on our fake relationship. I read that details are important.”
I roll my eyes at his presumption. “You read about how to fake a relationship ?”
He hesitates, the apples of his cheeks growing pink. “Sure did, baby. They’re called romance novels. And I just so happen to have a list of recommendations for us to read together. It’s gonna be our first couple-y thing we do.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I back up a few steps, shaking my head and raising my hands. “I didn’t agree to anything.”
“ Yet ,” he says with emphasis.
I fold my arms across my chest and look from him to the car and back again. “I’m not saying yes, but let’s say, hypothetically, I agree to this little ruse of yours. How is that gonna help me with Grant?”
He jerks his head to the left, where there’s a Reapers emblem painted on half the wall. “He’s trying to prospect the Hunters in Westhaven, and I’m a fucking Reaper, baby. Once word spreads about us, he’ll back off or he’ll face the wrath of the club.”
I nod a few times, trying to absorb the information like this is all a totally normal conversation to have with an ex. “And you? What do you get from this arrangement?”
He absently scratches the side of his neck. “My ma.”
I wait a few beats, but when he doesn’t continue, I say, “Explain.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I love my ma, but she’s about one more phone call away from flying out here and forcing me to settle down with someone. She worries I’m alone too much.”
“But you don’t want to settle down?”
“I don’t want my mother to keep trying to set me up with her friends’ daughters,” he says.
I let out a small chuckle, the absurdity of the situation hitting me in the chest. “So, let me get this straight. You want us to fake a relationship so you can keep your mother off your back, and in return, you’ll help me with Grant by using the Reaper card?”
“I’ll do more than help you. I’m gonna be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. Oscar-worthy, baby, mark my words.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
I walk backward in slow, almost swinging steps. “I’ll think about it.”
His head jerks back. “You’re gonna think about it—that’s it?”
I nod and pivot on the ball of my foot, shielding my grin while giving him a great view of my ass. And if I put a little extra swagger in my steps, then that’s just a random coincidence. “Thanks for fixing my car, Jagger. I’ll be back for it tomorrow.”
“With strawberry shortcakes?” he calls, his voice bright with hope.
My laughter is the only response I give him as the bells jingle with my exit.
My first inclination is to call Eve and get her input, give her the play-by-play of the past few days. But I know I can’t. Because if I decide to do this, then I need everyone to believe it. I trust my cousin with my life, but I don’t want to ask her to lie to her men. And if they know, then we might as well tell everyone it’s fake, which would make the whole thing moot.
I wave to the guy at the security building as I leave the compound. “See ya. And Rocks? Sorry about that. Miscommunication.” I shrug and return his smile.
“No problem, Carter. You have a good day, yeah?”
I nod and start walking toward Main Street. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do, and the only things that help me do that are baking and excellent playlists. But first, coffee.