11. Ian
11
IAN
I grip the steering wheel and try not to swerve off the road as we approach the property nestled into the foothills west of town where the weekly barn dance is held.
Did I underestimate Sadie Hart? Because you can about knock me over with a feather—or at least crack my suddenly rock-hard dick in half with a feather-light touch—at her bigger is better comment. Not to mention how she looked at me from beneath those long lashes of hers, a rosy tint coloring her cheeks and making me wonder if her whole body will flush pink when she breaks apart in my arms.
“I’m on a dating hiatus,” I respond.
You’re on a complete hiatus, I tell my dick, which twitches in response and ignores my warning. “A fake relationship is the only kind I’m interested in at the moment.”
The last woman I dated posted pictures of me grabbing her thong bikini-covered—or not so covered—ass on social media. Monika took great pleasure in revealing that Riva had been shown those photos of her dad at school.
And the woman before that shared a photo of my naked ass with her family chat.
That’s not to say that I blame anybody but myself for the current tension in my relationship with my daughter, but staying away from dating seems like a good start for getting things back on track. Being with Sadie isn’t real dating. And Riva approves because it gets her close to the dogs.
All the more reason why I can’t screw this up by complicating things with sex.
I remember a time when sex seemed simple. I took advantage of all that simplicity. But just like the aches and pains that plague me every time I get out of bed in the morning, the older I get, the less things stay simple.
It’s incredible to me that Sadie believes my lie without any hesitation. What’s more inconceivable is that I want to accept her explanation that dating isn’t a big deal. It’s obvious Sadie Hart is not a casual sex type of woman. She has white-picket fence and commitment written all over her adorable face.
“Be careful, darling,” I say, letting the slightest tinge of my Oklahoma accent lengthen the vowels. “I might just take you up on your generous offer. I don’t think that’s what the neighborhood welcome wagon had in mind when they promised the people of Skylark are sure to make me feel right at home.”
Sadie Hart would feel right at home underneath me. Somehow I know that deep in my soul, and it’s a bad, bad idea.
She sucks in a breath, and I try not to notice that she needs a bra with more padding. One that hides the fact she’s as affected by me as I am by her.
But it’s hard.
No, not hard.
It’s difficult. I have to stop thinking about the word hard and start thinking about my third-grade English teacher. Or calculus. Or something other than the way Sadie smells like sunshine and how appealing the freckles that dot her neck and arms are to me. How I want to touch every birthmark on her body with my hands and tongue.
We pull into the parking lot in front of the barn. It’s more than half full, and the doors are wide open with a small crowd congregating. I park and then hit the button to kill the vehicle’s engine.
“This place does look like a popular spot. You haven’t been here since high school?”
“Almost fifteen years,” she confirms, her hands balling into tight fists. “Some things about a small town never change.”
The words sound hollow. Like she wants to change, but the past won’t let her. I get that. Football did that to me, even with everything it did for me.
Some guys cry when they retire, unable to imagine their lives without the competition, camaraderie, fans, and fame. Some guys continue to live off stories of their glory days and remain steeped in the halcyon memories of their youth.
Not me. My brother might follow that path when it’s his time to hang up the shoulder pads, but I didn’t hesitate after the day when my life flashed before my eyes in that locker room.
For me, walking away was about Riva. I had an inkling I didn’t have much time left before the relationship with my daughter would be beyond repair, and I’m hell-bent on fixing it. Sadie Hart is part of that whether she realizes it or not, and I’m a man who pays my debts.
“Let’s get some supper and dust off our dancing shoes.”
I climb out of the truck, but Sadie doesn’t move.
“I’m guessing you aren’t waiting for me to do the gentlemanly bit of opening your door,” I tell her after opening her door.
“No one is going to believe this,” she murmurs, her gaze focused straight ahead.
“People will believe what we show them, sweetheart.”
“Everyone thinks I’m still pining after Bradley even though he’s marrying my sister.” She glances at me, sparks flaring in her brown eyes. “I’m not, by the way.”
“Of course you’re not.” I drape one arm over the top of the door like I could stand here all night talking about her dipshit high school crush. I’m already convinced the guy must be a complete tool. Why else would he have let Sadie go? If she’s half as loyal and protective of the people in her life as she is to her menagerie of mutts, those people are damn fortunate.
The lengths she’s willing to go to, taking on things that fall well outside her comfort zone, to ease her sister’s worries also speaks volumes. I’d do the same for Felix in a heartbeat.
“Not to toot my own horn.” I give her a slow wink. “But I might be just the type of man your close-knit community will believe could help you leave ole’ Brad in your rearview mirror.”
“Toot-toot,” she whispers, and hell if those ridiculous syllables don’t sound sexy.
What in the world is wrong with me?
I don’t have time to puzzle it out because Sadie gets out of the truck and reaches on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. “Thank you for being a nice guy.”
“I’m not nice.” My voice sounds like I’ve just swallowed a giant frog, but I’m speaking to Sadie’s back as she’s maneuvering through lines of cars toward the barn’s entrance.
I slam the door and catch up, taking her hand as we move closer. A shiver runs through her, and I want to pull her into my arms and give the crowd, which has turned to watch our approach, something to talk about.
She slows, but I keep us moving forward.
“Oh, my God, you’re here,” a woman calls as she rushes to greet us. For a moment I assume she’s talking to me even though I’ve never laid eyes on her.
She has glossy blonde hair, supermodel cheekbones, deep blue eyes, and innate confidence that screams I was a popular girl with rich parents who gifted me with a BMW for my sweet sixteenth birthday . Okay, I can’t tell all that from a first glance, but I’d bet it’s close.
I’m used to being approached by strangers, but she completely ignores me and hugs Sadie tightly. “It’s so good to see you out in the world, Sads.”
Sadie laughs and returns the embrace with one arm. I notice she does not loosen her grip on my hand, and I like it more than I should.
She draws back from her friend and lets out another nervous laugh. “Come on, Avah. It’s not like I’m a hermit.” She glances nervously in my direction like I’m going to judge her for any supposed anti-social tendencies.
I’m the guy who didn’t leave his new house for two weeks. No judgment here.
Her friend makes a show of looking on either side of Sadie before her gaze snags on our joined hands. “You’re not carrying a leash,” she points out. “And you’ve upgraded your companion from four-legged to two.”
“Debatable whether it’s an upgrade,” I offer.
As if only realizing we’re still holding hands, Sadie pulls hers away.
“Avah, this is Ian, my…” She pauses as if unsure what label to place on me.
“Her boyfriend,” I supply.
Sadie looks like she wants to roll her eyes. “Ian, this is my friend, Avah.”
“We’re in a book club together.” Avah offers a hand. “One where we actually read books, which was a surprise initially. I thought the books were an excuse to drink wine and gossip. But I like it. Nice to meet you, Ian. I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are.”
I arch a brow. “Not everyone.”
Avah quickly grasps my meaning and grabs Sadie by the shoulders. “Tell me you recognized Ian Barlowe.”
My fake girlfriend’s eye roll can’t contain itself any longer. “I knew. I do now, anyway,” she amends.
Avah gives Sadie another hug. “You’re the best. So how long have you two…”
“It’s new,” Sadie says. “Can we talk later? I’m starving.”
“Me too,” I agree and shift closer to Sadie so my meaning is clear.
The woman’s eyes widen. “Call me later,” she tells Sadie, already backing away. Then she gives me another look. “Or tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow will work,” I confirm and nudge Sadie toward the barn.
“You don’t need to lay it on so thick with my actual friends,” she complains. “They aren’t the ones we need to convince.”
“Avah believes it. Are you familiar with the concept of manifestation, Sadie?” I ask as we walk into the barn.
Strings of fairy lights hang from the rafters, adding a rustic charm to the scene. Hay bales are arranged along the sides, and in the center, there’s a large open area for dancing. Round tables with checkered tablecloths are scattered around, each adorned with centerpieces featuring mason jars filled with wildflowers. In one corner, a band is warming up on a small stage, the space filled with the twang of country music.
More eyes turn to us. These are speculative and curious. “You have to believe to receive,” I tell her. “You have to feel the feeling and speak things into existence.”
We’re heading to the section of the barn dedicated to the barbecue buffet. Long tables contain a spread of smoked meats, cornbread, coleslaw, baked beans, and an assortment of sauces. She stops so quickly I almost run her over.
Her arms cross over that perfect, perky chest. “Are you telling me you believe in woo-woo shit?”
I shrug. “It’s backed in science and sports psychology. Hell yeah, I believe it. I believe in my mind’s power and ability to manifest the life I desire. I believe in visualizing an outcome to make it happen.”
I let a little bit of my desire for her show in my eyes. Not the entire level of my need, because it’s embarrassing and would probably freak her out. It freaks me the hell out. “You need to see us together in your mind.” I will her to truly listen and feel even a portion of what I do. “You need to visualize what you want to show up in your life. Can you see it, Sadie?”
Her pupils dilate, and she drags that bottom lip between her teeth again. If there’s any doubt whether the two of us have chemistry, no one in this barn will be able to deny it after this.
She gives a small nod.
“Good girl.” I’ve never been much for good girls, but Sadie Hart might convert me. “What are you thinking about?”
I want her to tell me. I want her to say it. My body wants her to say it. She opens her mouth, but there’s a clattering of metal against metal that breaks the connection between us. She blinks and the veil falls over her eyes again.
“I’m thinking about barbecue.” She smiles, but it’s as fake as our supposed relationship. “With a side of cornbread.”
I laugh. She has zero poker face, but the fact that she keeps trying is cute. “Then let’s eat.”
I don’t push the issue of our mutual attraction, because I’ve proven my point. Now I need to figure out how I’m going to manage to spend the next month pretending to be her boyfriend and keep myself from falling for her. Damn, it’s going to be hard—and not in the good way.