Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Lou
“Oh, Lou, what a lovely space you’ve created,” Joanna gushed as we descended the last steps back to the entryway, finishing up the tour of my inn. “I’m so glad he found this place… and you.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, guiding her away from the reception desk and Harper’s curious gaze.
I owed my cousin big time for covering for me every afternoon for the whole week so I could go to the hospital. More than that, I probably owed her some kind of explanation, but I didn’t know what was worse to admit to, the truth or the lie. So, I opted for the weak excuse that because of the NDA, I wasn’t allowed to say anything. Whether it was her love for me or her true adoration of all things Blaze Stevens, I was glad she didn’t press for more details.
Miraculously, I’d managed to keep any of the rest of my family from meeting Wade. It wasn’t too hard. They were busy with their own lives, most of them with their young children, and I was good at pretending I had everything under control even when I didn’t. I never considered that a lie, just simply survival .
“Here, why don’t we sit,” I said as we walked into the living room and motioned to the two armchairs tucked in the corner.
The seats were hidden from Harper and far enough away from the couches by the fireplace that we wouldn’t disturb the newlywed couple who was perched on one of them, talking and looking at photos on their phones. Young people these days sure took a lot of photos.
“Thank you for bringing me here—showing me,” Joanna said and sighed. “I didn’t realize how much I needed a break.”
There’d been steady improvements in Blaze’s condition, but not drastic. Not enough for my ally to awaken.
All week, I’d sat by his side and Joanna’s, listening to her stories about Blaze when he was little, hearing the love in her voice when she spoke about his career. It was easy to get Joanna off on tangents about Blaze. She was a proud mother. And it wasn’t just for selfish reasons that I tried to keep the discussion on him. It seemed to bolster her spirits when she could gush about all the things he’d accomplished. But today, I couldn’t keep the conversation on him.
Joanna began asking about me and my relationship with Blaze again. What the inn was like. What Blaze thought when he got here. What he’d been like over the last few months. How he liked being up here. What his plans were.
My vague answers backfired when Wade chimed in from his silent, solitary post in the corner and suggested Joanna come back with us and see the Lamplight Inn for herself. Maybe he’d wanted a break, too, clearly having a more conflicted perception of Blaze’s past and present. And me.
After our conversation at the hospital, Wade and I skated through our interactions as though gliding across thin ice, afraid to say or do something that would crack through the surface and send us both sinking into depths that felt dangerous on so many levels.
Waiting for Blaze to get better so he could vouch for me seemed a reasonable solution in theory, but in reality, it was reckless. Especially when there was no denying my attraction to Wade. In the span of a day, I’d gone from no lies to two, and the irony was it was easier to lie about a relationship I didn’t have than to hide feelings I definitely felt.
“This truly feels like a special place. No wonder Blaze loved it,” Joanna went on, reminding me which one of her sons I should be thinking about. “Even the scent in here smells like?—”
“Home.” I took a deep breath and pointed to the candle that was lit on the coffee table closer to the couches. “My twin sister has a candle business. She made the scent especially for me—for the inn. It’s vanilla and tobacco. A strange combination, but the sweet and smoky?—”
“It’s comforting.” It was her turn to finish for me. “It sounds like the two of you are very close.”
It was the kind of thing most people assumed because we were twins, and they weren’t wrong. But sometimes, they also assumed that close meant the same.
“We are. Always have been. We’re very close with our two older brothers, too. Well, half brothers, technically.”
My and Frankie’s dad had never been in the picture. From the time we were born, it had always been Mom, Jamie, and Kit, so it was hard to remember the distinction.
“That’s so… wonderful.” Her eyes saddened, and she began to fuss with the end of the black silk scarf she wore around her neck. “I wish my sons were closer.”
My throat tightened. After a week of intruding on their family dynamic—or diffusing, depending on who you asked — the regret layered into Joanna’s every expression was as obvious as the tension between Blaze and Wade had been from the start. Another feat, considering one of them was unconscious.
I reached over and took her hands in mine. “I’m sorry.” As soon as the words were out, I winced. Stop apologizing for something that’s not your fault.
Her smile was weary. “Don’t apologize, Lou. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. ”
I should drop it. Even if I was Blaze’s girlfriend, even if I was sort of part of this family, it still wasn’t my place. But I wanted to know. I should want to know about Blaze, but just like every conversation that had come before this one, the curiosity bubbling up from the center of my chest was only about Wade.
Every story she’d told, I’d hung on the smallest kernels of information about the older, stoic brother who seemed content in the shadows. I wanted to know more about the man who made my stomach flutter and warm shivers cascade over my skin.
And then I felt the unmistakable drop of a tear on my hand.
“What happened?” I heard myself ask, her pain pushing my curiosity over the edge.
“Nothing… and everything,” she said with a sigh, brushing the back of her hand to her cheek. “My husband was… a flawed man. He had this idea of who and what he wanted his sons to be, how he wanted them to follow in his footsteps. But that was never Blaze. Blaze was always carefree. Imaginative. Playful. Always acting out stories from TV or movies and dragging his brother along with him.”
The idea of Wade acting… anything… made me smile.
“My husband couldn’t understand him—was hard on him. Too hard. And for every extra bit of hardness that he was, I became softer. Every time he praised or favored Wade, I tried to give something extra to Blaze.” She took a deep inhale, her shoulders sagging as it released. “I didn’t realize until too late that I’d been so worried about making up that love to Blaze that in the process, I wasn’t there for Wade like I should’ve been.”
I squeezed her fingers, words unraveling from my throat before I could stop them.
“Sometimes, we act in the moment to protect someone or something we love, and it’s only looking back that you realize it wasn’t the best thing to do. But just because it wasn’t the best thing to do doesn’t mean it was a bad thing either.”
With the words out, all that remained was the knot in my throat. This was the moment. I saw it—felt it. This was the opportunity to tell Joanna the truth about me—about Blaze and me.
“You’re so easy to talk to, Lou. It’s no wonder Blaze fell for you,” she said, her voice picking up a measure of strength as she smiled. “I know I keep saying it, but I truly don’t know how I would be… handling this if you weren’t here.”
With every word, I watched my chance slip away. I felt the truth sink deeper and deeper into my stomach, buried under the weight of how much Joanna was relying on me.
“Blaze wasn’t in a good place before, and just knowing he had you—knowing you were what kept him here, safe—brings me so much comfort, and I want to say thank you even though it doesn’t seem like enough.”
I tried to swallow—tried to free some kind of response—but I was speechless. I couldn’t speak the truth but neither could I continue the lie. Thankfully, Joanna didn’t wait for a reply before she stood and pulled me up with her and into a hug. Instinctively, I hugged her back even as my eyes darted to the other side of the room, afraid of who was seeing… listening… to all of this, but the young couple was distracted, taking a selfie in front of the fireplace.
“Thank you, Lou,” she murmured again, and all I could do was nod into her shoulder and squeeze my eyes shut.
What am I doing? As she pulled back, I scrambled for something to say but was spared when the grandfather clock positioned in the opposite corner of the room chimed.
“Oh, dear. It’s getting late. I really should get back to the hospital. I want to sit with Blaze a little before I go back to my hotel,” she said, starting to get flustered as she gathered her things.
“Please, sit,” I begged, my voice cracking. “I’ll go get Wade and tell him you’re ready.”
After we’d returned to the inn, Wade went to make some calls for work while Joanna and I talked. His accusation that day at the hospital still festered between us like an open wound. Maybe you don’t really know him. I didn’t know him. I just couldn’t admit to it.
I barely registered Harper’s stare as I made for the staircase, all of my focus trained on placing one foot calmly in front of the other. Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t run , my heart hammered in my chest.
Was I holding back the truth because I didn’t want to hurt her? Did I really think the woman who’d just said all that wouldn’t forgive me? Or was I simply using someone else’s pain to justify my lie?
I stopped in front of Wade’s door and knocked loudly, my mind spiraling. I should’ve told her. I had the perfect chance. It would’ve hurt, would’ve disappointed her, but it would’ve been better in the long run.
The door whipped open, my knuckles swiping air.
“What?” Wade growled, and I realized I hadn’t just knocked once. I’d kept knocking, lost in thought. No wonder he was…
Naked. He was naked.
My jaw dropped, eyes gulping in the sight of the bare-chested, towel-clad, glowering guest in the doorframe. When Harper first explained who Blaze Stevens was, the explanation had come with several visual aids—movie posters, YouTube clips—all to showcase his Hollywood physique, and none of which provoked even a fraction of the appreciation I felt right now. For his older brother.
I leap-frogged right over embarrassment for knocking and landed straight on mortification, unable to stop staring at the gorgeous man in front of me.
And if I thought it couldn’t get any worse, instead of greeting him with Wade, the only word that slipped from my tongue was, “Wow.”
Broad shoulders. Muscled chest. A ladder of abdominal muscles that led to his waist. All of it streaked in rivulets of water from the shower. His tapered hips were wrapped in the white terry towel he held cinched in one hand at his side. Wade held it so tightly, there was no chance of it slipping… but he held it so tight, it was impossible not to notice the large bulge in the front grow distinctly larger.
My breath caught, my nipples tightening to the point of ache. And the heat… it swelled in my stomach, between my legs. It cracked and popped like kindling catching flame.
“Lou.” The low rumble of Wade’s voice grated on my skin, an edge of anger to it.
My eyes snapped up, and I realized the crack and pop wasn’t from the heat—it was from the thin layer of ice we’d been navigating, shattering under the weight of desire.
“What’s. Wrong?” Wade punctuated each word like it was a sword pulling from his chest.
His wet hair curled, and water dripped off the ends, one droplet landing on the edge of his upper lip. My tongue instantly darted out and swiped over my own as though to lick it away.
“Sorry,” I murmured, and this time, it wasn’t lost on me that he didn’t correct me. This, most definitely, was my fault. He’d been showering and I’d banged on his door like it was an emergency… and now, we were here.
A deep sound came from him. The stacks of muscles on his abdomen rippled, pushing the low, rough noise up to his chest and then higher through the pulsing of his throat and past the clenching of his jaw and the tight line of his lips. It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard him growl in displeasure before, but this time… the displeasure seemed to be lacking the dis and lingering on the pleasure.
“I’m sorry. Your mom wants to go back to the hospital,” I blurted out and folded my arms.
His focus darted to my chest for a split second, and his jaw flexed. “I’ll be right down.”
I jumped when he slammed the door and then looked down, a fresh burn of embarrassment running through me when I saw the outline of my hard nipples pressed to my thin blouse. No wonder he was furious .
I spun and fled to the bathroom in my room, flipping the faucet on to cold and splashing the icy water on my face.
If he didn’t hate me before, I was certainly giving him even more reason to now. Eyeing him up like I’d never seen a naked man before—like I’d never felt desire before. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t. It mattered that I shouldn’t. Not like this. Not with him.
I shouldn’t be attracted to my fake boyfriend’s older brother, and I definitely shouldn’t be so foolish as to let him realize it.
I was a ball of ungrounded electricity until they left. A ball of tangled, unstable electrons ready to combust with one more look or a single touch. Thankfully, when I went back downstairs, it was only Joanna waiting for me at the desk to hug me goodbye and tell me she’d see me tomorrow. Wade had gone to pull the car up front.
I sagged with relief as I closed the door behind her. I had the rest of the night to put some distance between me and Wade. Between me and my emotions. Hopefully, that would be enough.
“Is it true?”
I stilled at Harper’s voice and then turned.
This time, I felt the heat leave my face as surely as I’d feel water running down my cheeks. “Harper?—”
“Lou,” she interrupted, her nostrils flaring. “Are you dating Blaze?”
My mouth opened. And then shut. And then opened again.
There was a wounded look to her expression, like I’d betrayed her, but I wasn’t sure how. Because I hadn’t told her the lie I had to pretend was true? Or was it something else?
“I…” I closed my mouth and swallowed.
“That’s a yes.” Harper wasn’t as bold as Frankie, but she didn’t beat around the bush either. “Why didn’t you tell me? And don’t tell me it was because of the NDA. I already knew he was here. I already knew…”
My heart pounded in a tympanic thud inside my chest, beating to the tune of a tale I didn’t want to keep telling. But like some kind of Pied Piper, I followed along the beat, afraid the truth would risk more than my dream.
“It just… happened, Harper,” I said like it was even remotely close to an explanation. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before, and I didn’t want to make anything more of it…” I trailed off when it was clear my excuses weren’t helping. Harper’s eyes glistened with tears, and her cheeks were pink.
Why was she so upset?
Of course, she had a crush on Blaze. Between her and Wade, they’d made it seem like every breathing female who came into contact with Blaze Stevens had a crush on him. But would they really cry to hear he had a girlfriend?
“Harp… what’s wrong?” As soon as I stepped toward her, she flinched and cracked through the stone of her stance.
“Nothing,” she stammered and spun, jerkily collecting her notebook and purse from behind the desk. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Harp—” I couldn’t catch her before she sped past me and out the front door.
I didn’t have the strength to chase after her… or the ability to with no one to watch the inn.
Slowly, I turned in the hallway, seeing not the emptiness of the space but all the memories bursting from its seams. From Blaze, unconscious at the base of the steps. Joanne, tearful and grateful sitting in the living room. Frankie, eyes twinkling at the mess I’d gotten myself into. Harper and her tears. And him… Wade… The hot flicker in his gaze, the tension in his body, the stretch of that towel…
Oh no.
No, no, no.
I went to the kitchen, hopped up on the counter, and pulled down a bottle of wine from the top shelf. It was one of the bottles left over from Frankie’s wedding. I’d stashed it in here thinking I’d pop it open to celebrate the official opening of the Lamplight Inn, but then I’d just gotten too busy. And now… this was no celebration but commiseration.
I fished in the drawer for the corkscrew and, a few seconds later, had the bottle open. The liquid glugged into a mug because I didn’t feel like searching out a wine glass.
It was only a matter of days… hours… until Harper told the rest of my family, and then I’d be back at that same fork in the road again: lie or truth. The lies had spiraled, and now, telling the truth seemed even riskier than before.
“Crap,” I muttered and turned the bottle upright, having poured just about half of it into the mug while lost in thought.
I hung my head for a beat. No sense in trying to pour it back. I’d just dump whatever I didn’t drink, I decided, bringing the mug to my lips and taking several healthy gulps. It was a sweeter red, but truthfully, I wasn’t going to be picky.
Taking my very full mug of wine, I grabbed my laptop from the desk and went into the living room. With all the back and forth to the hospital while trying to keep everything moving steadily at the inn, I hadn’t had much time to work on the wedding packages that I’d told Max I’d give to him for his friends. Now seemed like as good a time as any to work on them. There was no chance I was going to be able to sleep right now anyway.
I needed a distraction from the box I was in—a box that had been so clearly defined at the start: Let Blaze’s family believe we were together until he woke up. Now, that lie was starting to chip into my reality, the box bending and blurring at the corners.
As I started to dig into my spreadsheets and drink deeper from my cup, it became clear that lie wasn’t the one worrying me.
Lying about being Blaze’s girlfriend was a problem, but the worst lie—the dangerous lie—was the one I kept telling myself: that I wasn’t attracted to Wade Stevens, my fake boyfriend’s brother.