Noah
I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I slipped the last button on my shirt into its corresponding hole and then smoothed down the front.
I was wearing a dark grey shirt with a pair of dark jeans.
I ran my hand through my damp hair before I pinched the bridge of my nose while I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
What was wrong with me? What was I doing? Why had I agreed to this date?
The image flashed before me of Emery at the park with her eyes wide and her gaze hopeful as she suggested that we go out like a regular couple. To her, this was an innocent ask. To me?
Well, I was the stupid idiot who wanted it to mean more.
I’d convinced myself that I could do this whole fake-marriage thing with Emery because it would be in name only. My feelings may have gotten out of control, but Emery never had to know that. I would remain the man in the shadows, protecting her and fulfilling whatever role she needed me to play.
I just never thought that the role she’d need would bring me closer to her emotionally…physically.
It had been so long since I’d been on a date that I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do. And that was with a woman who was interested in me romantically. I had no idea what to do if the entire foundation of the relationship was fake.
How could I move closer to her without my feelings growing? Was that even possible?
I glared at my reflection before my gaze shifted over to my wallet sitting on the dresser. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I was an idiot.
Unable to stop myself, I walked over and picked up my wallet. I opened the slot where my bills sat and stared at the small diamond ring I had slipped into it before I left Emery’s condo to come to Harmony.
Watching Emery touch her naked ring finger at the gala after Charles pointed it out did something to me.
I’d stupidly gone to the bank lockbox I’d set up when I first got to New York and got out my grandmother’s wedding ring.
I’d been carrying it around like an idiot, thinking that Emery might actually wear it one day.
I pulled the ring out and stared at the tiny princess-cut diamond. I tried to imagine what it would look like on Emery’s finger. For some asinine reason, my entire chest swelled at the thought of her wearing my ring. Like, somehow, that meant she belonged to me.
Like she was mine.
I cursed under my breath as I shoved the ring back into my wallet and flipped it closed.
First, it was not the kind of ring a woman like Emery would wear.
I’d seen her and Carson’s engagement photos in her condo.
The rock on her finger rivaled the iceberg that sank the Titanic.
And it made sense that the diamond would be that big.
Carson was rich. He could afford it. And Emery deserved something extravagant.
Second, I was not the kind of man Emery would marry for real.
I wasn’t rich or successful. I was a broken-down, washed-up, discharged military man who didn’t know where he was going.
I’d spent my life working for something that had cast me aside when I got injured.
I would never be worthy of Emery, and it was stupid of me to think anything else.
Retrieving this ring had been a mistake, and it was going to stay tucked away where it belonged.
Shaking my head, I slipped my wallet into my back pocket before I went back into the bathroom to run some product through my damp hair. Once I was done, I brushed my teeth and then flipped off the bathroom light as I left.
I glanced over at the adjoining door that opened into Emery’s room. She’d set it up so I was next to her in case I needed anything. For a moment I let my guard down, and I allowed myself to wonder what she was doing on the other side.
Was she ready? Was she as panicked as I was? Was she worried what this evening would mean?
I slammed my eyes shut and pushed the image of Emery from my mind. I needed to stop allowing myself to think of her as anything other than my fake wife. I was certain that title was all she was ever going to want to be.
I opened the door that led out of my hotel room and turned off the light as I stepped out into the hallway. I heard my door latch engage as I stood in front of Emery’s door, wondering what the heck I was doing.
Why did I think that going on a date was a good idea? I tapped my fingers against my leg to dispel the nervous energy coursing through me before I took a step forward and knocked on the door.
Emery had asked me out, and I was going to go even if it killed me.
After three solid knocks, I took a step back and waited. It took a few seconds before the door opened. Emery looked sheepish as her gaze ran over my body. Heat pricked my skin as I did the same.
She looked amazing. I’d never seen her in a pair of tight skinny jeans with cowboy boots. She wore a dark red tank top, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with bits framing her face.
Her cheeks were bright pink as her nervous gaze met mine.
“You look great,” she said, her smile turning shy.
I cleared my throat. “I was going to say the same about you.”
She adjusted the hem of her tank top. “I’m not so sure about this. Abigail insisted that I’ll fit in, but”—she scrunched her nose— “this is not really my style.” She blew out her breath, causing the loose strands to flutter around her face.
Emery was right, this wasn’t her style. She normally wore business attire. Even her everyday clothes had a sort of royal feel to them. Seeing her dressed like a regular person endeared her to me even more.
“You look beautiful,” I said, my emotions coating my throat.
When Emery’s shy gaze rose to meet mine, I realized what I had done. I’d let my guard down, exposing how I felt about her. I cleared my throat and glanced around before I returned my focus to her.
“You ready?” I asked.
Emery nodded as she stepped back into her hotel room. I caught the door before it fully closed, keeping it propped open while I waited for her to return. She grabbed her purse and was bringing the strap up onto her shoulder as she approached me.
She stopped a few feet away and smiled. “I’m ready now.”
I nodded and stepped out of the way. She joined me in the hallway as we waited for the door to shut with a resounding thud. I tried the handle a few times—just to make sure it was locked—and then we walked down the hall together.
“Timothy is with Abigail and Bash for the night,” she offered as we waited for the elevator.
“Fun.”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. We boarded the car and then stood in silence while it took us to the lobby. I led the way through the hotel and out into the parking lot. The hotel hadn’t officially opened yet, but there were workers getting things ready.
Emery smiled and nodded at everyone as we walked past. I couldn’t help the swell of pride that filled my chest as she kept pace with me. There were moments when her arm brushed mine, and I was taken back to the morning we walked into Torres Investments to talk to Charles.
I could feel Emery’s energy that day. She had been standoffish and scared. Looking back, I realized how much she must have agonized over holding my hand. I’d learned so much about Emery these last few days, and I felt like an idiot for not realizing how hard things had been for her at the start.
And how good it felt that she seemed to have relaxed since then.
Being around me. Touching me. Those things didn’t seem to affect her as much.
When we touched, she didn’t pull away. In fact, she seemed so engrossed in engaging with those around us, that she didn’t even notice that her hand had brushed mine.
I liked that.
I liked that she was more comfortable around me.
We kept our conversation light—mostly talking about her childhood and mine—as we drove to The Honky-Tonk Bar, which was about thirty minutes from the hotel. Music was blaring as I pulled into the parking lot and scored a newly vacated spot near the door.
After the engine was off, I asked Emery to wait as I pulled on the door release and got out. Thankfully, she humored me, and as soon as I was next to the passenger door, I opened it.
I kept to the side as I held out my hand to assist her. She hesitated before she slipped her hand into mine and climbed out. Our fingers lingered together before she pulled her hand back so she could move away from the car and I was able to shut the door.
It frustrated me how acutely aware I was of the absence of her hand.
My skin was cold and my fingers felt lonely.
It made me nervous for how things would be once this facade was over.
We’d only just started, and I found myself missing her already.
What was I going to do when I had to walk away from her for good?
I forced my thoughts to the present as I walked alongside Emery through the parking lot. I held the bar door open and let her walk in first. The music was ten times louder inside, and I had to lean in to hear her.
“Let’s go find a table,” she yelled into my ear.
I pulled back as I glanced down at her and nodded.
Part of me wondered if this was Abigail’s plan from the beginning.
Suggest that we go to a bar where you had to press your bodies together to communicate.
She probably feared that I wasn’t going to push Emery out of her comfort zone and knew this place would get the job done for me.
We headed towards the tables that lined the back of the dance floor.
The bar may have the best hamburgers around, but food was not its main concern. The dance floor took up over half the space inside the rectangular building. Some of the tables had people sitting at them. Most were reserved by plates of food and half-empty drinks.
“Need a seat?” yelled a woman with bleach-blonde hair and a plaid button-down shirt. She was carrying an armful of menus propped on her hip.
I nodded along with Emery. I wasn’t going to attempt to talk.