Chapter 15 #2
"Are you going to answer me, Hunter?" she asks me impatiently, her chest heaving.
“My grandmother wanted to call the police. The necklace is a family heirloom, and she's distraught.”
“Okay, and what does that mean? She wanted to? Did she or didn’t she?”
"My grandfather wanted to keep the investigation in house, so he hired a private investigator."
"Oh, okay." She swallows hard.
“And it's likely you are going to be the number one suspect.”
“What do you mean, I’m the number one suspect?” She bites down on her lower lip.
“Well, you’re the most recent person to come into the house. I’ve already seen you snooping.” I shrug. “No one really knows you, and you have a history of lying.”
“I do not have a history of lying. I’m here to be a ghostwriter. You know this.”
“Yeah, but I also know you were snooping in the library the other day. You also move around this house very quietly.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s because I’m quiet. What would you rather have me do? Stomp around?”
“I’m not saying that I need you to stomp around. I’m just saying that you seem to be going in and out of rooms and locations like you own the place.”
“How does someone walk around like they own the place?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m literally just here doing a job.”
“I'm just telling you the facts of how it looks. However, I do have a proposition for you, so to speak.”
“What kind of proposition?” She frowns, and I can tell her mind is churning. "Wait a second. You’re not expecting me to have sex with you, are you? Because the answer is no. You can call the cops.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” I shake my head vehemently. "Trust me, I don’t need to proposition anyone into sleeping with me. What I need from you is much more intricate than that.”
“What do you mean by intricate?” Her eyes narrow when she looks down at the front of my mouth. “That’s not your way of asking for a blow job, is it? Because that’s an even bigger hell no.”
“Really, Gina? Why is your mind in the gutter?” I can’t stop myself. I burst out laughing.
“What do you mean, why is my mind in the gutter? You said you have a proposition for me.”
“Propositions can be anything. They’re not always sex related. I think you’ve been watching too many pornos.”
“I don’t watch pornos, thank you very much.”
“That's a shame. Maybe that would help you release some of your pent-up frustration and stress.”
“I don’t have any pent-up frustration and stress.” She lets out a deep sigh, and we just glare at each other. Somehow, we are now only a few inches from each other. I could reach out and hold her right now. It would totally break the moment, though. “But anyway, what’s the proposition?”
“The private investigator will be showing up within the next couple of days.”
“Okay…”
“I can choose to give him pertinent information that may not look good for you.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I am privy to information that may make you look guilty. I don’t know if you’re guilty, but the facts don't look good.”
“But I’m not guilty.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you would think that.”
“Why? Because we kissed?” I take another step closer to her. “You think that one kiss—”
“It was more than one kiss,” she says, breathing heavily.
“You think that multiple lingering kisses are going to make me believe that you could not possibly have stolen my grandma’s million-dollar necklace—which is a family heirloom—because your lips told me everything I need to know about you?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. Obviously, Hunter. What I’m saying is… Ugh, just tell me about your proposition.”
“I’m in need of some assistance. And before your mind goes into the gutter again, it is not sexual assistance. I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement,” I add on quickly, lest she think I'm using it as an excuse.
“Your girlfriend?” She blinks. “Wait. What do you mean?”
“I was in town today, and the paparazzi were there.”
“Yikes, for real, the paparazzi were there?”
“The paparazzi. Photographers and journalists who were trying to get a story on someone famous. That famous person is me. They want to get my story.”
“Wait… what?” Her words seem to be coming cautiously now. “What story are they trying to get?”
“I don’t know what story they’re trying to get. But the simple fact of the matter is, there is no story that I want to give them.”
“I’m not sure that I am comprehending. You want me to pretend to be your fake girlfriend because of the paparazzi? Why would the paparazzi care if you had a girlfriend?”
“Gina, I think you’re under the mistaken impression that I’m going to answer any of these questions.
I’m not. You pretend to be my girlfriend for the duration of the summer, and I won’t tell the private investigator that I met you in a cupcake store while you were pretending to be an FBI agent.
I won’t tell them that you were spying on your boyfriend, who happened to dump you very soon after that.
I won’t tell them that I found you snooping. "
“Okay, I get it. But you know I didn’t steal the necklace.”
“I know no such thing. I don’t really know you that well.
What I do know is I could use your help, and I want to believe you.
” I smile at her indignant face. The truth of the matter is, I do want to believe her.
I think she’s fun and beautiful. The way her long dark hair cascades down the side of her face makes me think of how she would look if she were on top of me and riding me, brushing her hair against my face. But I can’t tell her that.
“So I’m guessing the only way you’re going to believe me is if I find the actual thief? In the meantime, I suppose I’ll be your pretend fake girlfriend, or whatever it is you want.”
“Good. You’ll accompany me to dinner tomorrow night.”
“What?”
“I am meeting up with some friends and business acquaintances. It will be a formal dinner, so wear something nice. I’m thinking a slinky dress.”
“I don’t have a slinky dress here to wear.”
“Do you have one at home?”
“I mean, I suppose I can find something. I didn’t realize I was going to have to pretend in front of other people.”
“Who were you going to pretend with? Just me? What good would that do?”
“I don’t know. I’ll just go along with it."
"It’ll be fine, Gina….”
“So why do I feel like it’s not going to be fine?”
“Why do you feel any of the things you do?” I reach over and touch the side of her face. “You’re beautiful when you’re angry and confused.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“I didn’t mean it to be. It’s just a fact.”
“You infuriate me. You know that?”
“I don’t mean to infuriate you. Trust me. It’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Yeah, right. I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to do.”
“True. There are things I would hate to do more, like cleaning up dog poop every five seconds.”
“Who cleans up dog poop every five seconds?”
“I don’t know. People who have a lot of dogs.” I grin. We stand there for a couple of seconds, and I reach out and grab her hand. She yanks it away quickly.
“What are you doing?”
“I was testing you, and you failed.”
“What do you mean, you were testing me, and I failed?”
“If we are out in public and I go to reach for your hand casually, you cannot yank it away. From this moment forward, you’re my girlfriend. For all intents and purposes, we are madly in love. We’re having mad sex. We can’t keep our hands off each other.”
“Ugh. This sounds painful. Absolutely painful.”
“Really, Gina?”
“I’m not in love with you, and I don’t think you’re all that. I don’t think that—”
“You don’t think what?”
“Nothing,” she says.
“You don’t think you’d want to sleep with me?” I let my legs rest against her. She stiffens slightly as I pull her into me. My fingers reach up and touch the side of her face and then run down her silky dark hair. Her lips quiver as she stares at me, eyes wide.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think I should do?” I say softly, moving my lips closer to her.
“Is this part of the act?” she whispers softly.
“Do you want it to be?” I say as my lips briefly touch hers.
Her eyes are blazing, and she doesn’t respond. Instead, a low murmur escapes her lips.
“What is that, Gina?” I say as I press my lips softly against hers again. “Do you want me to kiss you, or should I just step back?”
"Nothing," she squeaks out.
"Nothing?" My lips twitch at her words. "What does that mean?"
"Do nothing?"
"Oh... nothing like this?" I lean forward and suck on her lower lip before letting go.
"Hunter." Her voice is raspy, and I cradle the sides of her face. I can feel her body against me. She's warm and shivering. My fingers grab her hair, and I move my lips to her neck, licking a trail upwards toward her mouth, before pulling back again.
"Yes, Gina?" I stiffen as she places her palm against my chest and squeezes my muscles.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you want me to be doing?" I blow into her ear and harden as she lets out a low moan. She suddenly growls at me, and before I know what’s happening, she’s got her hand on the back of my neck, her lips against mine.
I kiss her with every fiber of my being.
She runs her fingers down the side of my arms, and I feel her breasts crushed against my chest as my tongue tangos with hers.
The kiss starts sweetly. It’s tender. And then it deepens and becomes more passionate.
I want this woman. I want more. I want her far more than I should.
I finally step back, and she gasps the same remorse I feel.
She looks around nervously and swallows hard.
“There is no one who’s going to be upset at that kiss, right?”
I stare at her for a couple of seconds, not answering. "What?" I say finally.
“There’s no one who’s going to be upset by us kissing and pretending to be together?”
“There’s no one that matters who will be upset,” I say softly.
Her eyes narrow slightly, and I wonder what she’s thinking.
But I don’t care. She doesn’t get to know my secrets.
I suspect she has secrets, as well, and I'm not going to pry. I’m attracted to her, and this is going to be an interesting experiment, but I’m not ready to tell her what’s happened to me in the last year.
I’m not ready to share the hurt, the pain, everything that has occurred in my life in the last twelve months.
I’m not going to let sexual attraction make me believe that she’s someone I can trust until I really know that she is.
“You want to come back to the cabin with me?” I ask her softly. “We can start putting together a list of suspects.”
“Only if that’s all we’re doing,” she says, her eyes twinkling.
“Why do I feel like you want to do more?” I ask her teasingly.
“I don’t know what makes you feel that way, but it’s not true. Just so you know, Hunter Waverly, I’m not that sort of girl.”
“You’re not what sort of girl?”
“The sort of girl to hook up with a guy because he wants her to be his fake girlfriend.”
“Do you think that's what I want?"
“I don’t know what you want. I just know that it seems complicated, and I don’t do complicated.”
“You’re the very last woman I would expect to do complicated,” I say sarcastically, running my finger across her lower lip. And then we burst out laughing because both of us know that neither one of us believes that.