Chapter 8 #2
“I . . . don’t remember.” As much as I’m glad another man isn’t vying for Summer’s heart, my stomach dips with disappointment for her.
What kind of idiots has she known in her life for none of them to see what an incredible woman is right in front of them?
For none of them to do everything they can to make her happy every chance they get?
“None of my clients have given me gifts before. We keep things strictly professional. One date to their office Christmas party or to their ex’s wedding, and then we move on.
” She snorts. “I sent my mom a photo of the Kindle, and she just texted back in all-caps: I’m so glad you’re treating yourself! ”
“You didn’t tell her your hot new boyfriend sent it to you?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Summer corrects, but she doesn’t deny that I’m hot. That’s something. “And I’m definitely not telling her. I don’t need to get her hopes up for nothing.”
For nothing. She’s wrong about that.
We’re not nothing, Summer. And I’ll prove to you just how much we can mean to each other. How much I’m willing to do for you.
“It’s not for nothing. You’re obviously getting married.
That’s the most blatant proposal I’ve ever seen.
Keep digging in that box—I bet you’ll find a ring with a diamond the size of my fist. I better be the maid of honor.
Actually, scratch that. I’d be a horrible maid of honor, but I better be a bridesmaid. ”
“You’re ridiculous. I’m going to call him.”
Shit. I barely have time to leap past her door and race like a psycho killer down the stairs before my ringtone blares from my pocket.
Shit, shit, shit—
Heart pounding, I jump into my car and lock my eyes on Summer’s apartment as I fumble for my phone, waiting for her to bust the door open and catch me.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Her warm, alto voice carries a hint of concern. “Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”
“Yep. All good. Just got done with a run.” Not exactly a lie. I clear my throat. “What’s up?”
Her front door squeaks open and clicks shut behind her. In front of me, Summer leans an arm on the railing, gazing out over the small courtyard and parking lot. Right at my car.
I shift in my seat. She can’t see me. It’s too dark. She probably can’t even identify the make and model of my car from this distance. Even if she could, she wouldn’t know it’s mine.
Right?
My pits sweat as she brushes her wavy, dark blonde hair behind her shoulder and smiles. God, she’s beautiful. Maybe I’m an idiot for thinking there’s anything I could do to deserve her.
“Prick is obsessed with his new tunnel. He hasn’t left it since I put it in his cage.” Her gaze travels casually around the landing, monitoring her surroundings.
Don’t worry, Summer. I’m here to keep you safe.
That’s something I know I won’t screw up.
“Tell Prick he deserves king treatment.”
That makes her grin wider. This is what she looks like when she believes she’s alone. Exactly how I want her to smile when she knows I’m watching.
“You didn’t have to send me all these gifts. I could’ve just lied to your family about you buying stuff for me.”
“You don’t like them?”
“I love them,” she blurts. “I lost my Kindle a few months ago, and I’ve been wanting that special edition for ages. How did you get a signed copy of S.T. Nicholson’s newest book, by the way? He hardly ever does book signings.”
“I saw him at that indie bookstore in town.”
“Are you serious?” She groans. “I’m so jealous. But you really didn’t have to get me all of this. It’s too much—”
“Not for you,” I cut in, and from here, I’m pretty sure she’s biting her lip. “How did you know it was from me?”
Summer chuckles. “Your name was on the return label.”
Jesus. How did I forget about that? My name and address are on the damn package. I should’ve gotten the gifts delivered to my doorstep, repackaged them, and brought them here myself.
I’m an idiot. I’m already screwing this up. Some stalker.
“What are you, a detective? Those are some impressive sleuthing skills.”
Her tinkling giggle makes me want to jump out of this car and follow her back into her apartment right now. “Can’t get anything past me.”
“I’m glad you like the gifts, Summer. A woman like you deserves to be showered in them.”
She covers her smile with her fingers, and somehow, even though I forgot the return address like a moron, it feels like maybe I’m not screwing this up after all. “Thank you. Good night, Noah Sinclair.”
“Good night, Summer Brooks.”
When her head tilts, confusion distorting her features, I freeze. Her gaze lands directly on my car. “I don’t remember telling you my last name.”
Silence hangs between us. Fuck. How the hell do I explain knowing her name when she never told me? My mind scrambles to come up with an excuse. “Had to do a background check before I hired you. Can’t be too careful with beautiful, knife-wielding women these days.”
Her melodic laugh relaxes my tense shoulders. “You’re right. Better be careful with me, Noah Sinclair.”
As soon as she ends the call and heads back inside, I rip off the mask and hiss out a breath.
This whole stalking thing might be harder than I thought.
Outside the bistro, Summer is on a lunch date with a client while I’m on a date with Bud, the golden retriever I’m pet-sitting for the elderly couple down the road. He pants happily at my feet, tail flapping against the ground while passersby coo.
“You’re not helping me stay undercover,” I tell him.
I should’ve known better than to bring a big, fluffy dog with me to stalk my fake girlfriend, but when he looked up at me with those round, brown eyes, I couldn’t leave him behind.
So he’s an accomplice. A shitty one, with all the attention he’s drawing. But definitely the cutest and by far the fluffiest.
Thanks to the magnetic GPS tracker I attached to the undercarriage of her car, Bud and I were able to locate Summer at the bistro. At least I’ve found some success with the tracking part of stalking.
For now. With my success rate, I’m not holding my breath.
At my table, I slouch behind a menu. Couldn’t exactly wear a mask in public without drawing more attention to myself, so I’ve opted for a cap and sunglasses. Though after spotting my reflection in the bistro window, I’m not sure this disguise is any less conspicuous.
Summer shields her eyes against the sun, manages to nod and smile at the right times, and tries not to look bored out of her mind every time her client ignores her to type on his phone. He checks his watch far too often for someone sitting across from a woman like her.
Bastard doesn’t even realize how lucky he is to breathe the same air as her.
Am I well aware that this is her job? Yes. Was I well aware when I hired her to be my fake girlfriend? Yes. Does that mean I will react reasonably when seeing her on a date with another man, knowing it’s not real and she’s getting paid to be there?
Absolutely fucking not.
When the conversation lulls again, Summer scans the tables around them until her gaze lands on me.
“Shit.” I duck down behind the menu. “Is she still looking, Bud? Did she spot us?”
His tail wags enthusiastically as he stares up at me, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil.
“Would your friend like some ice cream?” A young woman in a green bistro apron beams down at Bud. She’s either oblivious or unbothered that I’m trying to shield myself with a menu. I’m invisible with Bud around. At least, to everyone but Summer. “We have a dog-friendly option.”
I manage a nod. “That would be great, thanks.” Once she disappears inside, I sigh at Bud. “You’re blowing our cover.”
“Noah!” A booming voice makes me jump.
A man in athletic wear and another in a leather jacket laugh, chairs screeching as they join me at our table.
“You on the lamb, Sinclair?” Aries sets his motorcycle helmet on the table. “Why are you hiding behind a menu?”
“He must’ve killed somebody. He’s jumpy as hell.” Killian leans down, practically knocking the table over as he rubs Bud’s head. “Hey, pal. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
If Killian and Aries spot Summer on a date with another guy, this whole thing will blow up in our faces.
“We were just leaving—”
“Sir, here’s your doggy ice cream.” The server is back with a big smile, and Bud jumps to his feet, his whole body wiggling as his tail wags.
Damn it. I grind out a “Thank you.”
“Can I get you two anything?” She turns her smile on my brother and best friend.
While Killian orders a shitload of protein for his post-workout lunch break and Aries asks for a burger, Summer stands from her table and gives her date a wave before parting ways. With every move she makes, my heart hammers harder.
Instead of darting for her car, she heads in our direction. Fast.
I can’t remember the last time a woman ever made my heart race this much. The sneaking around to conceal a fake relationship and attempted stalking probably don’t help, but I doubt the cardiovascular activity would be as strenuous if she were anyone else.
“What are you doing here by yourself?” Killian asks.
“I’m not by myself. I’m here with Bud.” I nod down at the golden retriever, who is inhaling the puppy ice cream in big, slobbery gulps like it’s his last meal. Ice cream and drool splatter my shoes.
“So sorry I’m late!” Summer feigns surprise when she spots Killian and Aries. “Oh, hi!”
Her gray sweater dress perfectly outlines her silhouette. The column of white buttons leading up to her throat makes me want to rip open that dress and send those buttons flying. Or maybe it’s her in the dress.
“Summer!” Killian jumps to his feet, and her eyes go wide as he towers over her before tugging her in for a bear hug.
“I showed him pictures of you,” I explain. “Summer, meet my brother, Killian. And my buddy, Aries.”
“Oh, shit.” When Killian releases Summer, he grins at us, cheeks still rosy from his workout. “Are we crashing a date?”