Chapter 9
HOPE
“You sure that dress isn’t a little much?” Hillary says as we walk into the auditorium together.
Marshall spent the day working at the gym, preparing for the New Year’s rush that’ll begin first thing tomorrow.
He promised to meet me at the party, but I don’t see him anywhere.
And after a day stuck mostly with my sister, I’m desperate for one of those toe-curling kisses that’ll make me forget every snide comment Hillary threw my way.
She criticized the decorations as we hung them, she made at least three comments about my weight—never mind that I’ve been going to the gym for months and am super strong—and she gave me an unbelievable amount of grief for not taking my Christmas decorations down—again.
If she weren’t leaving tomorrow, I’d have kicked her out by now.
“I’m the event organizer,” I say to her, letting her passive aggressive comment bounce away when it hits the armor I’ve donned. “If anything, my dress is understated.”
I still feel weird claiming credit for something I didn’t do, but all my friends and several volunteers sung my praises when I drug my sister with me earlier this afternoon to decorate the auditorium.
It’s better that Hillary think I’m a big deal than find out the truth.
She’d mock me for sure if I was ever stupid enough to show her my art studio.
“I still think you should’ve worn Spanx.”
“It’s just another layer Marshall would have to take off later,” I say on a giggle. Wow, I really am unbothered by Hillary. It’s a nice feeling.
“He’ll leave you, you know. When some bottle blonde starts going to his gym and seduces him.” Hillary gives me a glowering look that takes away that nice feeling in an instant. “Better enjoy him while you can, Hope.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, the fear that it’s exactly like that creeping back in.
Dammit. Guess my armor’s not thick enough tonight after all.
“You know it is.”
“Why are you being such a bitch?” I say it a little louder than I intend, turning more than a few heads.
“I’m just speaking the truth no one else is brave enough to say out loud.’
I glare at her, too pissed for words.
“I’m going to get a drink.” Hillary struts off, disappearing into the crowd.
“She’s awful,” Ruby says, sidling up to my side and looping her arm through mine. “Say the word and we’ll take care of her.”
“You’re not murdering my sister,” I grumble. “That privilege is reserved for me.”
“You look radiant, by the way. Marshall’s going to die when he sees you in that sparkly black dress. Just don’t let him get you out of it until you get home, mkay?” Ruby gulps a swallow, forcing a smile. “That was very weird to say about my brother.”
“Is this weird for you?” I ask her.
“No weirder than me marrying Marshall’s best friend.”
“This whole thing was supposed to be fake, but I…don’t know if it is. Fake, that is. Not for me. Not anymore. But what if it’s just one-sided?”
Oh God, I sound like a bumbling idiot. I knew better than to sleep with Marshall.
I knew I’d never be able to separate sex and feelings.
Damn the man and his ability to give me world-altering orgasms. Now I have all the feelings.
Feelings that have me very tempted to let him have his way with me without a condom, consequences be damned.
I’ve never let a man come inside me without protection. It feels…important. Like a privilege I’ve been saving for Marshall for longer than I can comprehend. It makes no sense and perfect sense all at once.
“Honey, no one believes this thing between you is fake.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Hillary does.”
“Hillary’s a miserable jealous cow. Where’s her famous actor hubby tonight? Why isn’t she spending New Year’s Eve with him?”
“He’s filming some movie in Madagascar or Morocco or some exotic place like that.”
“And she didn’t go with him?”
I shrug. “Every time I ask, she changes the subject.”
“Don’t let her ruin your night. You’re going to get that midnight kiss you’ve always wanted. Focus on that.”
“Speaking of your brother, where is he?”
“Last I saw him, he was in the hall talking to Caden and a couple of the guys. I don’t think he knows you’re here yet.” She pats me on the arm as she sets me free. “Go find your man.”
Ruby’s encouragement is almost enough to erase the seeds of doubt Hillary was so set on planting.
Almost.
Because when I find Marshall, he’s holding court in the hall.
I see Caden, a couple of other volunteer firefighters, and one guy I don’t recognize who looks a little wobbly on his feet.
My urge to run straight into Marshall’s arms and kiss him is halted when I hear one of the comments from the group.
“So the fake relationship was your idea?” Axel asks.
I catch the corner of the wall before I’m fully revealed and hide behind it to listen in.
“There was no other way to get to her, man. Every time I tried to ask her out, she wouldn’t even let me finish my sentence. I knew if I wanted a real shot, I had to come up with a plan.”
My heart thrums against my ribcage. It’s not all that surprising that the unplanned fake relationship was Marshall’s idea. He was a little too eager to play his part for it be Ruby’s doing. Plus, she definitely would’ve taken the credit if it was part of her scheme.
Surprisingly, I’m not mad. In fact, I’m touched. Maybe Marshall meant what he said the other night. Maybe he really is crazy about me and has been for months. Maybe there’s a chance we’re the last two single people in Daisy Hills because we were meant to find each other.
“So you finally did it? You finally wore her down?” someone else asks.
“It took some effort, but yes. She’s as good as mine now.”
“A fake relationship is such a fucking good idea bro,” the wobbly man who sounds slightly drunk says. “You fake your way right into her pants while her sister’s here, and then you can dump her without feeling bad about it. Rinse and repeat. Fool proof, man.”
My heart drops into my toes. No, this can’t be right. This is one of the miscommunication things that drives me up a fucking wall in Hallmark movies.
It has to be.
Only, my life isn’t some holiday romance.
Marshall isn’t denying what the drunk guy said.
“Told you,” Hillary says, sounding all too smug about being right.
I flinch back and march away from the group. I’m desperate to hear the rest of the conversation, but I’ll be damned if I let my sister hear it too. I don’t need her to see the moment my heart actually cracks all the way in two.
I knew better.
I fucking knew better, and I let myself fall anyway.
I was just a conquest.
At least I figured it out before I let Marshall come inside me like some lovesick fool.
“I want to go home.”