Chapter 21
Once on the boat, I grab a champagne glass off the waiter’s tray and down it in one gulp as I march toward Nate.
He frowns as he sees me coming, eyeing my liquid fortification.
“We’re doing this,” I say when I’m almost to his side.
“What?”
Before he can move, my hand loops through his arm, and I lean in, whispering in his ear, “I hope you’re a good actor, because we’re doing this.”
I pull back just as his parents are upon us.
“If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you were avoiding us,” Mack Farnsworth says as he notices my hand clasped around his son’s arm. His brows furrow, and a scowl takes over his expression.
Nate’s gaze shifts to me, an amused question behind his eyes. He wants confirmation before he introduces me as his girlfriend.
I flip my smile toward his parents. “No, he’s been dying to see you guys. Haven’t you, babe?”
“Uh…” A slight laugh puffs over his lips. “Mom, Dad, you’ve met Carly, right?”
His mother’s mouth curls into a smile. “We have, but we didn’t know you two were?—”
“Together?” Nate shifts his arm from under my hand and snakes it around my waist. There’s a moment of panic as his fingers slowly glide across my body, an ‘ Oh, crap. What have I done? ’ feeling that accompanies the chills from his touch.
My eyes flick to the side where Isaac stands. If I have to suffer with Nate’s arm around me, I better be getting some mileage out of this. Isaac peeks over his champagne glass, keeping a watchful eye on us.
Okay, deep breaths. This isn’t all for naught. I’m proving I’ve moved on. Mr. International will be so proud of me.
“I didn’t realize you were dating someone you worked with,” Mack says disapprovingly. “Is that wise?”
Connie hits his arm. “Falling in love can happen anywhere, especially at work.”
“You’re going to love Carly. What she’s done for this trip in the short time we’ve had is impressive.” Nate’s eyes skip to me, and for the briefest second, I think I see genuine pride, like having me on his arm is his greatest accomplishment.
“I didn’t do it alone.” I stare back at him. “You helped too.”
Mack scoffs. “In between tee times and pickleball tournaments?”
I can see where Nate gets his jerky side.
“Actually, no.” My chin flicks upward. “He’s been working himself ragged to pull everything together.”
“We’ll see if it pays off.” His dad looks around as if he’s already not impressed.
Connie’s smile shows her discomfort. “I’m sure it will.”
“Let’s go find a seat at the head table. I want to be close to the buffet.” He nods at us and turns to leave.
“Carly, I look forward to getting to know you better this week.” She places her hand on her son’s cheek. “And you, don’t you look handsome tonight?”
Nate releases his hold around me, and I immediately feel his warmth disappear. He pulls his mom into a hug. “I’m just trying to keep up with you.”
“Such a flatterer.” She winks at me as they embrace. “I’ll catch you two later.”
We smile and wait until she’s out of earshot before Nate speaks. “To what do I owe this change of heart?”
“You can thank Isaac and his knack for being a complete jerk.”
“More like, after much consideration and thought, you find me irresistible.”
My head tilts with a tight smile. “You wish.”
I walk to the bow of the boat, taking in the city's skyline from the river. Tall buildings with unique architecture flank each side of us, twinkling with lights. I’ve been working so hard since we arrived that I haven’t had a chance to experience the culture.
“So what’s the play?” Nate says beside me. “Do you want to start making out in front of Isaac now or later?”
I eye him. “Only if restraining orders are part of your love language.”
His smile stretches wide with charm. “Nah, I’m a physical-touch man.”
“Not in this relationship, you aren’t.”
“Then this whole charade won’t be believable. Everyone in my family, my parents, my aunts and uncles…”—he points around, reminding me how many Pureskin execs he’s related to—“they all know I’m a touchy-feely guy. So physical touch will be part of the job requirement.”
“Fine, but I sign off on everything.”
“Please tell me you’re not going to micromanage this fake relationship like you do with everything else, because if that’s the case, I’d rather just come clean with my parents now.”
“You’re the micromanager. And this whole fake-relationship thing was your idea.”
“No, no, no.” He shakes his head. “I merely suggested it. You’re the one who draped yourself on me.”
“I was playing a part, trying to be convincing. How about a thank you for saving you in front of your parents?”
“Don’t pretend like you did that for me. I saw the way you checked to make sure Isaac was watching.”
My mouth snaps shut. Guilty as charged.
“So now that we’re in this mess that neither of us wants to be in, what’s the play?” he asks again with folded arms. “Assuming you can pull this off and be somewhat believable.”
“Me?” My head kicks back. “Why wouldn’t I be believable?”
“Because you have one mode, and it’s not the soft-and-charming-girlfriend mode.” His brows lift in his judgy way. “Not even close.”
“I’ll be just fine. You worry about yourself and your own acting skills.”
“No worries there. I’m an excellent actor.”
“Right,” I scoff. “Like you’re excellent at remembering details?”
“Just tell me the terms you’ll agree to.”
“The terms?”
“Yeah, like the rules you’ll probably type into a fifty-page document and slide it under my door tonight. Let’s just get it over with now.”
For the first time in my life, I don’t want to make a list or a plan. The more we think about this fake relationship, the bigger this whole thing becomes. I need this not to be a big deal, just an in-and-out situation where nobody gets hurt—especially me.
“There won’t be a fifty-page document. You’re a big enough boy to figure this out on your own.” I turn back to the view, holding onto the railing. “Let’s just keep touching and other things to a minimum.” I have no desire to elaborate on what other things might mean. “Those are my terms and what I sign off on.”
“Define minimum.”
“Whatever we deem absolutely necessary to pull off this whole charade.”
Nate takes a step forward, and the mood between us shifts. Even the tone of his voice feels different, grittier. “Is handholding absolutely necessary?”
“At times.” My eyes flip to the side in a panic, and my fingers grip the railing tighter. I watch his slow moves with dread and a little anticipation.
Leaning his hip against the rail, he faces me, sultry eyes fixed on mine. “What about a hand on a leg or around a shoulder?”
“Under the right circumstances, I guess it’s okay.”
“Caressing?”
I still, sucking in a ragged breath.
“For example, if my hand was on your leg, and my thumb slowly traced a circle around your skin, would that be okay?”
I swallow at the visual. “Maybe occasionally.”
“Hugging?”
Somehow, his body feels closer, putting me on edge even more. I straighten, trying to stand tall. “I can’t imagine a scenario where we’d need to hug.”
“I can, but we’ll leave it open for interpretation.” His body slides even closer, fingers inching toward mine on the railing.
Why is he so freaking close?
“What about kissing?”
My mouth goes dry, and a rush of heat tickles the back of my neck. “We’re grown adults. We know what it takes to make a relationship look real enough.”
With that, his lips lift. “Good to know.”
I should’ve said absolutely, positively, no kissing. Instead, I left the door open, and I don’t know why.
As our gazes hold, my heart pounds with heavy thuds, but I can’t seem to look away. I’m transfixed by the moment—the city lights, the warm breeze, and Nate’s brown eyes that spark attraction deep inside me despite my dislike. I’m slowly being lulled into his charms, letting my defenses open.
The horn blares, and I jump.
The spell between us breaks, and I’m suddenly aware of how close we’re standing to each other.
It blares again.
I take a step back.
It blares a third time, and he turns.
He flashes a grin over his shoulder as he walks away. “How was that for acting?”
A deep scowl rips across my face.
He was acting.
ACTING.