Chapter 12 #2
“Is the idea still on the table? I thought you vetoed it.”
“Did I say that?” he asks, again shooting me a quick glance. Both his look and his voice have a flirtatious edge to them.
“You didn’t say anything, actually. I thought you wanted to take this drive so you could let me down easy.”
Collin only hums as he turns the car from a main road to a gravel one. If I were with anyone else, I’d be concerned at how isolated we are. But something about Collin makes me feel innately safe. Cared for. Protected.
“For the record, my car is kind of a mess,” I admit.
“The glove box probably has some snacks, which may or may not be expired; an extra hairbrush and makeup bag; an assortment of takeout menus; napkins, which should be the glove box baseline; and some pens that may or may not still work. Definitely no car manual. Now you know. Is this a dealbreaker, Mr. Biceps?”
Collin pulls the car to a stop next to a fence, then parks and turns to look fully at me. Under the intensity of his stare, I find it hard not to fidget. He’s just so … handsome. His face has its own gravitational pull, at least where I’m concerned.
“Not a dealbreaker. Though I am curious about your car manual. Where do you keep it?”
“I threw it away.”
He blinks, looking stunned. “What do you do when one of the dashboard lights comes on?”
“Ignore it? Or I do this fancy thing called Google it.”
Collin narrows his eyes at me. “Google, you say? Never heard of it. Maybe you could teach me?”
“For a price.”
“How much?” he asks. “I have a feeling you’d be a really great teacher.”
We’re talking about incredibly silly things.
Half of what I’ve said is pure nonsense.
But there is something about the way Collin’s looking at me, something about the rough timbre of his voice that makes this the most flirtatious conversation I’ve ever had.
My body is responding like it too, with a swooping feeling in my belly and the tiny hairs on my arms standing up like miniature satellites, all tuned his way.
“How much?” Collin repeats.
My brain is totally in sync with my body because the price it wants to give Collin is a kiss.
Since I’m definitely not going to say that but also don’t know where to go from here, I instead point out the window to where a cow has ambled up to the fence and is watching us. Rather nosily, I might add.
“By the way, where are we?”
“Oh.” Collin’s demeanor shifts in an instant, and he looks suddenly cagey. “Just … driving. It’s a random field.”
“And a random cow? Hm. He seems friendly.” I’m out of the car before I have time to overthink it.
I need a little breathing room after Collin sucked up all the oxygen in the car.
Approaching the fence slowly, I hold out my hand like I would to a dog to sniff. “Hey, Mr. Cow. Are you friendly?”
It continues chewing whatever it’s got in its mouth. Maybe cud? I never understood the whole concept of multiple stomachs and regurgitating grass to eat it again. Gross.
The cow thrusts its head through the fence and sniffs my hand. Then it sticks out its tongue and slimes the whole of my palm.
“Ew!” I squeal and pull my hand back. A cow tongue is nothing like a dog tongue. Solid, almost like an appendage, rough and very, very slimy. “Rude!”
“What were you expecting, darlin’?” Collin asks, his voice suddenly right by my ear.
So much for space. I can’t even escape as he’s standing close behind me, his big hands on the fence so I’m caged in between his arms.
“Not to be licked,” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear the waver in my voice or see the way I wipe my palm on my cutoffs. “This is where napkins in your glove box would come in handy.”
“I may not have napkins, but I do have antibacterial wipes in my console,” Collin says in a husky whisper, and I swear, he leaned forward as he said it so his mouth is closer to my ear.
I try not to shiver, but it’s hard to hold back.
Even when the words antibacterial wipes should not ever elicit this kind of reaction.
The cow gives me a look that says he is fully aware of my struggle right now.
It’s ridiculous that a man saying something about antibacterial wipes can make me want to kiss him, but here we are.
“What if we trade?” Collin asks, and now I know I’m absolutely not imagining the way he leans even closer, dipping his head so his breath wisps over my neck. “You teach me to Google, and I’ll give you a wipe to remove the cow saliva from your hand?”
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. Which has the unfortunate side effect of tilting my head back into Collin’s chest. My, if he isn’t tall. I relax a little into him and he leans forward to support me, his chest warm and solid on my back.
Suddenly, I’m not laughing anymore. I’m also not the least bit concerned about the cow slime on my hand.
“How about we shift the negotiations and the terms,” Collin suggests, dropping his chin to the top of my head. “Be my fake girlfriend. Then, as a couple, we can freely share things like antibacterial wipes and intimate knowledge of web searches.”
Once again, even in saying absolutely inane and ridiculous things, Collin is making my whole body react like he’s whispering sweet nothings directly in my ear. Not talking about fake dating and Google searches.
Could I actually resist him if he did whisper sweet nothings—or even a singular sweet nothing?
The cow’s flat gaze assures me he doesn’t think so.
“I don’t know,” I say slowly. “Because you just admitted you know what Google is. I’m not certain you need me or my knowledge.”
“Oh, but on the contrary.” Collin chuckles, and the rumble of it moves through my back and sends a cascade of feelings through my body. “I do need you, Molly-girl. I think we might just need each other.”
I like the sound of that. And I like this whole fake thing because it means more time with Collin. More touching too. I glance up at his face again, which is very, very close. So close I have to look away almost immediately.
“So, are you saying we’re doing this?” I ask.
Collin grins down at me. “I guess we are.”
We just agreed to fake date. Not to actually be in a relationship. So why do I have all the giddy feels that come standard with any new relationship? Actually, I’m not sure I ever felt this level of nervous excitement.
“We should probably do a post announcing our relationship sooner than later,” I say, hoping talking about the logistics will help keep my feet on the ground.
“You’re the social media expert, not me. Thayden mentioned something about a”—he hesitates for a long moment—“hard launch? Is that just like the new way of saying people are dating?”
He sounds so disgusted that I can’t help but laugh. “Basically, yeah. This will be our official hard launch. You ready?”
I slide my phone out of my pocket because I need something to do that will distract me from the things I’m feeling right now, and taking a video is a perfect distraction.
“Right here? Right now?” Collin starts to pull away, but I put a gentle hand on his arm, and he goes still.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
From my periphery, I can see Collin swallow hard, his throat bobbing. “Yes.”
“Then keep that hand on the fence and put this one around my waist,” I tell him.
Collin hesitates, then tentatively slides his hand around my side, landing between my stomach and my hip. “Like this?”
Goosebumps flare up on my arms from the contact. “Yup.”
Leaning back into him, I check the camera settings to keep me from acknowledging the sudden rush of feelings brought on by his touch.
It’s dark, but the moon casts a soft glow, and I can make out both of our faces well enough.
I settle back into Collin a little more and he tightens his hand a little on my waist.
“Actually, can you hold the phone? You’ve got longer arms.”
“Is it already recording?” he asks, lifting his hand from the fence to take the phone. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll edit everything later. Just hold it like that so you can see both of us. There.”
“What am I supposed to say?” Collin asks. “What are we doing?”
“Your nervousness is cute.” I tilt my head back into his chest, looking up until he meets my gaze. “But you don’t need to be nervous with me.”
“I’m not nervous with you. I don’t ever do social media or these kinds of videos. I just don’t want to mess this up.”
“Hey—relax.” I lift my hand and touch his facial hair. It’s softer than I would have thought. “Tell me about this because I’ve been wondering. The first two times I met you, you didn’t have a beard.”
In the dark, it’s hard to read the expression in Collin’s eyes. “It’s a recent thing. I thought maybe I wanted a change. Do you like it?”
I do, but I think I prefer him without. It would be hard to find any look that didn’t suit Collin Graham.
“That’s not really my decision to make.”
One corner of his mouth lifts in the tiniest of smiles. “I think as my girlfriend, it’s exactly your decision to make.”
I like the way he says girlfriend. Not fake. Even if the word is implied, hanging like a curtain between us.
“I like you both ways,” I tell him, which is true.
But he reads me like the truth is printed on my face in eight-hundred-point font. “You prefer me clean-shaven,” he says. “Noted.”
“Stop trying to read my mind.”
“Stop making me have to by not telling me the truth,” he teases. His fingertips flutter at my waist, tickling, and I giggle, grabbing at his hand to stop him.
Only then do we both seem to realize that he’s still holding up the phone, filming. I glance at the screen, surprised to see that we’re mostly still in the frame.
“Look at you,” I say, “making an excellent cameraman with a steady hand. Well done.”
“Thanks?”
I pluck the phone from his hand, pulling it closer and making sure our faces are still in view as I turn, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. Then I stop recording and turn off the phone.
“I think I got what I need,” I tell Collin. I should step away now, and he should let go of my waist. But neither of us move.
“You sure?” he asks, and I don’t miss the way his night-dark gaze slides to my mouth.
No. Not sure at all.