Luke
Damn, she was adorable when she was annoyed.
And damn if that little show hadn’t been a double-edged sword, giving me a taste of what I was missing—and what I couldn’t have.
This hadn’t been my plan.
My plan was to talk to her—to tell her I was serious about helping her, and that I would be happy to be her fake date. But when I came around the back of the house and saw the guy she was talking to, I remembered immediately who the ex she’d been desperate to avoid was.
Sean Anders had been on the football team—a wannabe quarterback who’d ended up spending as much time on the bench as he did boasting about his skills. And all it took was a split-second assessment to figure out exactly what kind of guy he was. Slick hair. Slick suit. Snide smile.
When I saw the way he looked at her—like she wasn’t good enough and should be grateful for any attention he showed her—that set me off.
Protective.
Possessive.
Twin turbos that drove me off the deep end into this situation and right to the brink of inappropriate.
Which was where I currently remained, watching the distinct sway of that perfectly full ass as I followed her angry stride into the house.
“You are in so much trouble,” she hissed back at me, smiling as we passed other guests so they wouldn’t have a clue that anything was amiss.
She had no fucking idea.
I’d always thought of myself as a smart guy. A ladies’ man. But not a dumbass.
I knew which ladies were off-limits, and once they were deemed off-limits, I never looked at them like they could be within bounds.
And I’d done the exact thing with Sage. And Rose, for that matter.
As soon as they were introduced as Callan’s sisters, that was it. Possible love interest was switched off.
And that switch had happily grown sooty and covered with cobwebs because I never revisited it.
Until Sage walked into my brewery—and I hadn’t realized it was her.
I saw the kind of woman who lived only in my dreams, and I wanted her. Wanted to do whatever it took to see her again—talk to her again. To make her smile.
And when I realized who she was… well, it was like seeing the arrow disguised in the FedEx logo.
I couldn’t unsee how gorgeous she was. I couldn’t unsee how damn bad I wanted her.
I couldn’t fucking unsee how she was my fantasy.
And there was no prayer, spell, or potent enough drug to turn her back into Callan’s unseeable little sister.
There was no flipping the switch back. No staying within the lines on this one.
The only thing to do was get her out of my system, and there was only one safe way to go about that. Because I certainly couldn’t have her for real.
She led us inside through the French doors, wove through the living room, dining room, into the kitchen, around the island, and finally into the laundry room tucked in the back.
Pulling me inside, she shut the door and immediately reached for the dryer, hitting a few buttons to start the tumble dry.
I was confused for a second until the dryer got going, and then I realized that no one would be able to hear us over the noise.
Clever.
“How many times have you done that before?” I asked, nodding to the machine.
She folded her arms, staring me down with red palms and yellow tights now ripped and dirty at the knees.
“Enough to know that for the next twenty minutes, no one will be able to hear your cries,” she replied smartly, and I wondered if her tongue tasted as deliciously tart as the way she scolded me. “So, you better have a darn good reason for what just happened out there because I did not ask nor want you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”
I tipped my hip against the washer, catching how she wasn’t able to stop her gaze from darting down to my waist before it popped back up again.
“No, you wanted Voldemort, and I figured he probably wasn’t going to show.”
“Luke, seriously.” She shifted her weight, the flower in her hair fluttering with her frustration. “It was a joke. A partially drunken joke. I don’t need you to pretend to be my… anything.”
I feigned a wince, but the prick in my chest was very real.
Sage sighed. “Is this really why you came? Because I made a joke?”
“I came because I was invited,” I corrected her. “I’m still Callan’s best friend—that’s not pretend.”
Her cheeks turned pink like ripe strawberries.
“But I also called Rose after you left, and she said I should definitely come.”
Sage groaned, her head dropping back and giving me a good look at the column of her neck. My dick hardened a very painful fraction more.
“I told her not to do that,” she muttered, and I could hear in her voice that she was really upset about it even though she was trying to hide it. “I’m a big girl. I don’t need to pretend anything in front of Sean... except maybe civility.”
I chuckled.
“I’m sorry she told you to come, Luke,” she refocused on me, looking ready to lay out a million and one reasons why I should drop the act.
My grin spread, and pushing off the washer, I stepped closer to her, watching her eyes flick over me as she tried to back away and maintain space between us.
“Really, I don’t need—” Sage sucked in a breath, her back bumping into the dryer
“You don’t need a man.” I held up my hands in defeat and finished her statement.
I didn’t know why she didn’t want to need a man, but I sure as hell knew it had something to do with her asshat ex.
She gulped. “I don’t need a date.”
“Then don’t think of me as a date. Think of me as an ally,” I suggested, inching closer to her and folding my arms across my chest. “Because you know that what just happened out there isn’t going to end today.”
She chewed on her lower lip. She plumped and sucked and rolled her lower lip to the point where putting my dick through the damn spin cycle would’ve been less painful than having to continue to watch her.
But I couldn’t stop.
My head dipped closer. “He knows me, Sage—knows my reputation from high school.” I paused and let the weight of that reputation sink in.
Sage let her lip pop free, her gaze rising to mine and burrowing deep.
But then she blinked and shook her head.
“No, it’s okay—it’ll be okay,” she insisted, making an attempt to scoot between me and the dryer and head for the door.
Most women would kill to stick it to their ex—especially when they were forced to walk down the aisle with them.
But not this woman.
“Dammit, Sage.” My arm shot out, barring her retreat. She faced me, the fire I’d provoked in her eyes flaring hot again, but I wouldn’t back down.
I kept my hand on the tumbling machine, tipping my body into her path.
“I won’t be okay.”
“What?” Her brow scrunched.
“Look, that shithead out there—” I broke off and vaguely pointed in the direction of the patio, warning with a roughened voice, “If I have to see him look at you like that again, I can’t promise I won’t take matters into my own hands.”
Those brightly colored lips of hers created a small ‘o.’
“So, either I let you be my fake date or you beat Sean to a pulp?”
Her throat bobbed as I crowded her against the dryer. Her eyes widened, her orange and yellow eye shadow a perfect match to the flower in her hair.
The old dryer bounced with its empty load, giving her ass a tap that jostled her into me. Full, soft curves brushed against me for a blink—a millisecond of fucking misery to be touched by temptation.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much where I’m at.” My voice was lusty as all hell.
It was like I’d been a fucking fire hydrant my entire goddamn life. Desire sealed up in a bright unwavering package until she needed me… and then the floodgates opened.
Sage wrenched herself against the dryer like it was a damn mechanical bull she refused to let go of. But even though she pulled away, I still caught her gaze as it dipped to my mouth when I spoke.
“And you really think I’m going to believe that this is for your ego and not mine?”
“Well, I’m standing here fighting to prove it to you,” I replied lightly.
“Ugh. Fine.” Her shoulders slumped for a second before she looked at me and charge. “Fake dates for the family events and the wedding, and then, we never speak of this—”
The dryer masked the jiggle of the doorknob, so there was nothing we could do about our positions when the door swung wide.
“Sage—” Callan stopped in his tracks, shock tearing across his face.
I dropped my arms and took a half step back, still feeling this insane need to stay close to Sage like I needed to defend her from anyone… including her brother.
“What the hell is—”
“Hey, Cal,” Sage squeaked, sidestepping out of my reach and striding to her brother. “So, here’s the deal, I asked Luke to be my fake date for the wedding because of the whole Sean situation, so it’d be great if you could find it in your heart to not be sour and ruin the whole charade.”
My oldest friend rocked back on his heels and blinked slowly.
“A charade? The two of you?” His head turned between Sage and me.
“Oh, definitely a charade,” she assured him, flipping her hair over her shoulder and meeting my gaze one last time. “Playboy hunks are definitely not my type.”
And with that parting blow from my dear, newly fake girlfriend, Sage pre-emptively thanked her brother for his cooperation in the ruse and sauntered out of the room to go find Rose.
“Worried there for a second?” I asked my friend once she was out of earshot.
“More like confused,” Callan replied, chuckling. “Until she reminded me that she’s immune to your particular brand of charm.” He clapped me on the back with an easy smile. “And she’s too good for you.”
As I followed him back out to the patio, I admitted that he was right about one thing: Sage Walker was definitely too good for me. But the look in her eyes when I had her up against the dryer… she was anything but immune.