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When Julie awoke, Tom was sitting at her desk, and he was already dressed. Pants, sweater, collared shirt, tie. She felt a rush of affection at the sight of his tie.
Geez, what was wrong with her?
She squeezed her thighs together as she remembered what he’d been like last night, underneath all those proper clothes.
Was he like that in bed with every woman? Or was she special?
And why did that even matter?
She’d had a reasonable amount of sex over the years when she was single. It didn’t mean she wanted a relationship with the guy. She simply enjoyed sex.
But this did not feel simple.
What did it mean to him? And did he regret it?
He hadn’t noticed she was awake, so she took a moment to examine him. It looked like he was sewing—what could he possibly be sewing?
She just wanted to kiss him again. She might have thought his lips were a little thin when they first met, but now she thought they were perfect.
“Good morning,” he said, turning toward her.
He seemed like Regular Tom, not the guy who’d kissed her everywhere last night.
For a moment, she wondered if it had been a dream, but then he came over and sat on the side of the bed. He rested his hand on her shoulder, and it was like...her body remembered him.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
He smiled. “Yes. Even if you kicked me once.”
“Did not!” she said, even though she probably had. But it was instinct to contradict him.
Except now when she contradicted him, he rubbed his thumb over her skin.
“I don’t regret anything,” she said. “Just to be clear. We slept together. No big deal.”
He merely nodded before returning to the desk.
“What are you sewing?” she asked.
He tied a knot, then held up her koala hat. “I noticed one of the ears was falling off, so I fixed it.”
“You just happened to have a sewing kit in your suitcase?”
“Of course. I always bring it for overnight trips.”
Her heart melted a little. It was so like Tom. “Thank you.”
Finished with her hat, he started folding up his dirty clothes from last night.
He wore briefs. She knew that much now. She was used to sleeping with men who wore boxers, or perhaps boxer briefs, but it seemed right that he wore briefs. It matched his ties, somehow.
What if he wore just underwear and a tie?
She suppressed a giggle.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You fold your dirty clothes.”
He put them in a bag with a drawstring, which he placed in his suitcase. “It’s a more efficient use of space.”
“But you have lots of room in your suitcase. It’s not necessary.”
“Habit.”
She found so many things endearing about him. She recalled how he’d whipped out that stain remover pen at the restaurant; she now found that cute, too.
It was truly ridiculous.
She could not be with Tom.
Sure, the sex had been great. Sure, he didn’t have sex the way he did everything else in life...but that was the problem. His lifestyle was incompatible with hers. He’d probably try to organize her life, and she’d chafe at his attempts. He might try to change her in the same way her parents did.
He’d likely imagined being with a woman who was an accountant or engineer or similar. Something more respectable. He’d never said that, but it was easy to picture him bringing a mild-mannered accountant home to meet his parents.
Not someone like her.
But last night...
They were just having a little fun while they were on vacation. That was how she’d think of it. Maybe they’d sleep together tonight, but once they got back to Toronto, she’d probably never see him again.
She tried to ignore the hard lump in her stomach.
* * *
Tom thought Julie seemed less spirited today, even if she’d assured him she had no regrets. Her parents had left to go Boxing Day shopping by the time they’d made it downstairs, so they’d spent the morning cleaning up the kitchen and playing mahjong with Mike and Charlotte, who’d since gone out for a walk.
He should enjoy it. Julie wasn’t giving him a hard time like she usually did.
But he was rather perturbed.
So he was relieved at what happened when they prepared lunch, even though it offended every cell in his body.
Julie toasted two slices of bread, then covered them with a thick layer of warm mashed potato while he looked on, horrified.
“What on earth are you doing?” he asked when he had recovered his speech.
“It’s a mashed potato sandwich,” she said. “Can’t you see that?”
Well, yes, but...
“It seems wrong,” he said. “You’re filling carbs with more carbs.”
“So?”
“Do you put anything else on this sandwich?”
“Yep.”
That was good news. If she added leftover chicken, it would improve the respectability of this sandwich. It would be thick and difficult to eat, but he could sort of understand such a sandwich.
Sort of.
Julie knocked her hip against his. “Now this is what really makes the sandwich.”
She was smiling now, and it was nice to see her smile again, though it also worried him. She seemed a little too pleased.
She opened the fridge and pulled out the second worst thing he could imagine.
Ketchup.
The worst, of course, being mayonnaise.
It wasn’t that Tom hated all condiments. He just didn’t like many typical North American condiments—ketchup, mayonnaise, and relish were atrocities. Mustard was acceptable.
His mouth fell open as she squeezed a generous amount of ketchup on the sandwich. Probably more ketchup than Tom had eaten in his entire life.
Then she took a big bite of her sandwich. “Mmm.”
All sorts of complicated feelings were swirling inside him. Horror, first of all. He’d slept with a woman who ate mashed potato and ketchup sandwiches. How had this happened?
Then, there was lust.
His gaze was intensely focused on her mouth. When she got a bit of mashed potato on her lips, her tongue darted out to lick it.
What if she put her tongue on his cock—
No! What was wrong with him? He was in his fake girlfriend’s parents’ house, and he was thinking of her dropping to her knees and sucking him off. Her family could return at any second.
The final thing he was feeling was affection. Because it was so much like Julie—who thought nothing of wearing a koala hat paired with reindeer mittens—to enjoy a sandwich that was simply carbs and ketchup.
“Want a taste?” Julie held up the half-eaten sandwich.
“Uh, no. I think I’ll pass.”
“Come on. I’ll give you a blowjob.”
Could she read his mind? Surely not.
But now he had to make a truly terrible decision. On one side: mashed potato and ketchup sandwich plus blowjob. On the other side: nothing.
He started pro and con lists in his head, then stopped himself.
The only correct answer was to get her into bed some other way. She’d enjoyed it when he took off his tie yesterday. Maybe he could also...
Well, what did she find attractive about him? He wasn’t entirely sure.
“I’ll pass, thank you,” he said. “Not my thing.”
“That’s why I want you to eat it.” She wiggled the sandwich in front of his face, and some mashed potato fell onto her plate. She swiped the misbehaving mashed potato up with her finger and slid it into her mouth, and now he was really thinking about that blowjob. “Aren’t you curious?”
“Not really.”
“This isn’t the only weird thing I eat. I also enjoy everything bagels with peanut butter and cheddar cheese. Would you rather have a bagel with both peanut butter and cheddar, or a mashed potato and ketchup sandwich?”
“The former, I guess. Why are you only giving me terrible choices?”
She had another bite of her appalling sandwich. “Okay. When I eat my special bagels in your presence, I’ll be sure to give you a taste.”
Her eyebrows lifted. Had she surprised herself with her words?
She was talking as though they’d be together for a while, but they were supposed to leave Ashton Corners in twenty-four hours.
He was disappointed there was only one more night of their lie, truth be told. In fact, his head was such a mess that he grabbed her mashed potato sandwich and had a bite because for some reason, this seemed like the right thing to do. He was definitely losing it.
The sandwich was as bad as he’d expected.
No, it was even worse. He’d forgotten just how horrible ketchup was, and he gagged.
Julie laughed. “How about pickles and Nutella? Would that be better?”
He nearly gagged again. “Stop asking me such terrible questions.”
“I tried it once. A friend likes that combination, but it wasn’t for me.”
“That’s a relief.”
He felt like they were back to their usual selves now, and that, too, was a relief. She was pissing him off, laughing and smiling more than she had earlier. It was disturbing to have that mashed potato and ketchup sandwich to thank for anything, but there it was.
It was also disturbing how cute he found it when she popped the last bite in her mouth and licked her finger.
Do I have feelings for Julie?
No, it wasn’t possible. She was just his fake girlfriend.
He came up behind her and kissed the side of her neck. Because he was her pretend boyfriend, no other reason. She giggled and pressed herself back against him, and fuck, he was thinking about having sex in the kitchen.
Tom had never had sex in a kitchen before. Bedrooms were for sex. Not kitchens.
But with Julie, somehow, everything was different.
He pushed that out of his mind by making himself a very sensible chicken sandwich.