Chapter 2 Marshall
MARSHALL
A fake relationship wasn’t part of my sister’s plan, no.
But it was part of mine.
“Hope, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.
” The annoying sister says it like Hope’s caught a disease, which is why I decide to be an ass and push Hope up against the side of the house instead of pulling back and greeting said sister.
Since her lips are moving so eagerly against mine, I figure it won’t hurt to kiss Hope a little more thoroughly to drive home the point that I am here for her, not her sister.
Our tongues slide together, and I taste peppermint and a hint of coffee.
A whimper escapes Hope’s throat, and my dick twitches to life.
Fuck me. I knew kissing this woman would be an indescribable experience, but I had no fucking clue that it could very well be my undoing.
It doesn’t matter how this whole crazy plan turns out.
I’ll never not think about this kiss as long as I live.
For months, I’ve known Hope Goodwin was the one.
But every time I’ve attempted to ask her out, she’s shut me down before I can finish my sentence.
So when my sister Ruby proposed that the two of us take over the coordination for the Daisy Hills New Year’s Eve party, I didn’t even argue.
I was just supposed to be a buffer—someone to make sure Hillary has as little access to Hope as possible during her uninvited stay.
But I’ve been scheming ever since Ruby came up with the idea for Hope to take over her role as party committee head.
I hadn’t exactly planned to show up and just kiss her on the spot.
Something like that could have easily gotten me slapped, and I couldn’t blame her if she’d done just that.
But I knew the annoying sister wasn’t going to buy us being together unless I made the declaration too convincing to pick apart.
I dare her to try now.
Gram lets out a sharp bark, and I finally break apart the kiss.
Hope looks flushed, and I can’t help but feel a little smug that I made her that way. It means all this time she’s been turning me down, it’s not because she’s not interested. I can work with that.
“Hey,” Hope says, a sated grin on her slightly bruised lips, her amber eyes sparkling.
“Hey you,” I say, bumping her chin with my knuckle.
“Hope, what’s going on?” Hillary demands.
“Hillary, meet Marshall.” Hope’s gaze flicks to mine, and a gentle smile curves those delicious lips. “My boyfriend.”
“Marshall?” Hillary repeats, as though still confused. Yeah, she’s not going to win my favorite person award in this century or any other.
“Marshall, meet Hillary. My sister.”
Gram barks again, and I call him to my side. He doesn’t appear to be a fan of Hillary. Me either, buddy.
“Why are you here?” Hillary demands.
“Hope didn’t tell you?” I ask.
“Tell me what?”
“Marshall and I are heading up the New Year’s Eve party committee,” Hope answers. “We still have a few loose ends to tie up before the thirty-first. So I’ll be running around a bit while you’re here. You didn’t really give me a lot of notice you were coming—”
“Planning committee?”
“Hope, you’re being modest,” I say, sliding my arm around the small of her back and tugging her against me. Gram plants himself between our feet, making the three of us one happy family. The way it should be. I bet we’d look good in a picture right now.
“I am?”
“Hope is the head of the committee. The event coordinator.”
I feel Hope stiffen beside me.
Okay, so it’s a lie. But this lie was premeditated at length during our friends’ Day After Christmas Party just a few days ago.
Hope confessed her sister would slowly wear her down with insults about how little she was doing with her life during her unsolicited visit.
So Ruby opted to replace her own name as the committee head with Hope’s.
It’s mostly a paperwork thing at this point, and this way she’ll get the credit and give Hillary a little less to pick apart.
I think it’s overkill—Hope has done some amazing things in the short time I’ve known her—but I wasn’t about to argue with my sister’s logic. Not when this might very well be my best chance to make Hope see that we deserve a shot at making this work between us.
Whatever armor she’s got around that heart of hers, I’m determined to break through it before the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve.
And this whole committee excuse is my ticket in.
“You?” Hillary asks, an expression of disbelief on her face.
“Yes, me.”
“Why didn’t you say anything on the drive from the airport?”
“You didn’t ask about me,” Hope says. On a mumble, she adds, “You were too busy talking about yourself.”
“Are you coming to the party?” I ask Hillary to cover Hope’s second comment.
“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a fancy party.” Something in her tone feels off. I don’t quite understand the girl code happening right now, but Hope seems to receive the message. At least I think that’s why she rolls her eyes where her sister can’t see.
“Really?” Hope challenges. “Three suitcases packed full of bricks, and you didn’t think to bring something for New Year’s Eve?”
“I didn’t pack a garment bag.”
“This isn’t some fancy ball. It’s a small town party to ring in the New Year.”
I can feel the tension rising and toss in an idea hoping to break it. “There’s a dress shop in town if you want something new.”
“Dresses for Days,” Hope adds. “Why don’t you go pick out something to wear while I run a couple of errands with Marshall?”
“Or I could just wait here until you get home.”
Hope’s eyes double in size, and I sense leaving Hillary behind is somehow a bad idea.
“We can drop you off at the dress shop,” I offer.
Hillary looks at Gram as though he’s a baby dragon who can’t be trusted not to breathe fire. It’s fucking hilarious because Gram’s as friendly as they come. He’s the local gym dog who happily greets anyone he deems not an asshole.
Which is why he’s sitting on top of my boot, as far away from Hillary as he can get.
“You sure it’s not too much trouble?” Hillary actually bats her eyelashes as me, as if I’d ever be interested in someone like her. She’s a far cry from her amazing, selfless sister. “I’d take Hope’s little car, but I don’t trust it to make it.”
“The dress shop is four blocks away,” Hope says flatly.
“Where does he ride?” Hillary asks, nodding at Gram. “Shotgun?”
“Nope. Shotgun is reserved for the love of my life.” I press a firm kiss to Hope’s temple. “He’ll sit in back with you.”