Tiffany clutched her purse to her side as she bounced a few times on the balls of her feet. Where was Jonathan? She paced in front of her apartment, her gaze whipping over when the sound of a passing car distracted her.
How could he be late? She’d spent the entire week reminding him that she needed to be picked up at 10 a.m. sharp on Friday. Jonathan would pull his typical, you mean Saturday, routine, but she’d just punched his arm in response.
Now that he was fifteen minutes late, she was starting to worry that, with all his teasing, he’d confused himself.
Just as she reached into her purse to call him, his Jaguar sped into her apartment complex, and he threw it into park. Before she could blink, he was out of the car and over to her, with a guilty look written all over his face.
“I’m so sorry. Mom wanted us to have food for the road, and she took forever to get it ready.”
Tiffany rolled her eyes. Typical Jonathan, blaming it on anyone but himself. “Really?” she asked as he grabbed her suitcase and threw it into the trunk.
Jonathan slammed the trunk shut and then turned to face her. “Really.” He held up his hand. “I swear. I was ready to go, but she insisted. And I can’t disappoint her.”
Tiffany eyed him and then smiled. “Well, I hope it was worth it,” she said as she pulled open the passenger door and the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted out. Her mouth instantly salivated as she nodded. “Oh, it was worth it.”
Jonathan chuckled as he buckled his seatbelt. “I figured you’d feel that way.”
Tiffany was already digging around in the back for the cooler she was sure held the cookies. Jonathan brushed past her as he leaned into the back as well. A warm feeling surrounded her as his chest touched her arm.
Startled, she pulled away. Glancing at the temperature dial in the car, she realized that it wasn’t the heat in the car that had her temperature rising.
Shaking her head, she decided it was better to sit there than to try to find the cookies herself. Plus, Jonathan seemed to know exactly where they were. She folded her arms across her chest, and a few seconds later, Jonathan pulled a bag of cookies up to the front.
“Here you go,” he said as he dropped them into her lap. Then he focused on starting the car and pulling out of her apartment complex.
The wedding was three hours away.
It didn’t take long until Jonathan was on the highway, leaning back in his seat and resting his wrist on the steering wheel. Tiffany couldn’t help but peek over at him. He looked so relaxed as he kept his focus on the road. He had sunglasses perched on his nose.
It wasn’t until now that Tiffany realized he had a perfectly shaped nose…and lips.
Blinking back her thoughts, Tiffany turned her attention to the road and decided that shoving her face full of cookies was the best use of her time.
“How long have you loved me?” Jonathan’s voice startled her.
She inhaled her cookies, the crumbs flying to the back of her throat and throwing her into a coughing fit. “I don’t love you,” she wheezed as her eyes watered.
Once she’d cleared her throat of all cookie debris and had wiped her eyes, she felt Jonathan’s gaze on her. His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted.
He occasionally flicked his gaze over to the road and then back to her. “Are you going to live?” he asked.
Frustrated, Tiffany nodded. Was he just messing with her? Had he heard her thought about his lips? “Yes,” she said, her voice raspy.
He nodded. “Good. I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain a dead Tiffany to your family.” He snorted as he raised his hand. “Here lies Tiffany, she died eating a cookie.”
Tiffany scoffed. Of course, Jonathan would make a joke at her expense when she almost died. “Good to know that’s what was going through your mind when I sat here choking.” She reached out and grabbed his water bottle and took a swig.
“Geez, you ask me to fake date you, accuse me of killing you, and steal my water.” He glanced over his sunglasses at her. “Best relationship I’ve ever been in.”
“Har har. You’d be lucky to be in a relationship with me.” It felt strange to hear those words roll off her tongue. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
When Jonathan didn’t say anything, Tiffany peeked over at him. Had she taken it too far? He didn’t look upset or uncomfortable, so Tiffany just shrugged off the strange feeling creeping up inside of her.
She was taking things too literally and she needed to stop right now.
Taking her resolve literally, Tiffany leaned back in her chair and brought her feet up to rest on the dash. She got out her phone and began playing around on it.
“I was thinking we should come up with a backstory in case people ask us,” Jonathan said, glancing over at her.
“Was that what your question was about?”
Jonathan chuckled. “Yep.”
Tiffany sighed. “Well, good news is we’ve known each other basically our entire lives, so that is in our favor.”
Jonathan nodded as he flipped on his blinker to pass a slow semi. “Right. You’ve always had a crush on me, and one day, you decided to throw caution to the wind and kiss me.” He glanced over at her, and even though his sunglasses were dark, she could see him wink at her.
Great.
“Um, that’s not how I remember it. You’ve always been in love with me. Pining after me. Writing love notes that you never sent. And then one day, you decided to tell me by singing to me outside my apartment until I came down.” Tiffany tapped her chin. “And wasn’t there someone throwing rotten tomatoes at you to get you to stop?”
Jonathan dropped his jaw. “Wow. You think my singing’s that bad?”
Tiffany shrugged as she shifted so that her legs were crisscrossed in front of her. “I’m just going off the reaction of the audience, babe.” She turned to him and batted her eyelashes.
Jonathan’s expression stilled as he glanced over at her. Then his lips tipped up into a smile.
Not sure where she was going to take their conversation, Tiffany reached over and turned on the radio. She could count on one hand the times she’d felt awkward around Jonathan, so the fact that it was becoming a regular occurrence was throwing her off.
Thankfully, she was saved by the oldies station and spent the rest of the trip belting out eighties classics.
Jonathan joined her for a couple, but for the most part, he spent the drive glancing over at her and rolling his eyes.
They pulled into the wrap-around driveway at Hotel Debonair, and Jonathan turned off the car. Standing outside the entrance was a man in a suit with his hair slicked back. When he saw them, he rushed over to the driver’s side door and helped Jonathan open it up.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said as Jonathan stepped out. Tiffany followed suit, and soon they were both standing by the car.
“My name is Horace, and I’d be happy to park your car,” he said, reaching his hand out for Jonathan’s key.
“Horace, perfect,” Jonathan said, handing the key over. “Let me grab out our suitcases first.”
Horace held up his hand. “No need. We will be more than happy to bring your luggage up to your room. Last name?”
Jonathan clapped Horace on the back. It was quite comical how tall Jonathan was compared to Horace. And when he touched Horace, the poor man’s frame literally shook.
“Braxton,” Jonathan said and then turned and made his way over to Tiffany. “Wow. Nice place,” he said, extending his elbow for Tiffany to take.
“Yeah. That’s my family. Lavish as always.” Tiffany slipped her arm through his.
Jonathan nodded and began to walk toward the front doors, which slid open with ease. “Now, remember,” Jonathan said, his voice barely a whisper, “you’re madly in love me.” He glanced down at her, giving her a wink.
Tiffany snorted. “I’m a pretty good actress,” she replied, trying to ignore the butterflies that were floating around in her stomach. She was just nervous about seeing her family. That was all.
Plus, it’d only been a week since she broke up with Sean and had seen him kissing another girl. Her emotions were all out of whack.
“Tippy!” The familiar shrill voice of her cousin Stacy caused Tiffany to wince. Before she could brace herself, Stacy rammed into her and nearly crushed her rib cage.
Tiffany staggered a bit, but thankfully Jonathan was there. He pressed his hand into her lower back to keep her upright.
Once she had her bearings and breath back, Tiffany pulled away from Stacy. “Hey, Stace,” she said, smiling at her cousin, whose dark brown eyes were bright with enthusiasm.
She grabbed onto Tiffany’s arm and squeezed. “I’m getting married tomorrow,” she squealed, jumping up and down, her dark brown hair swishing with the movement.
“Yep, you are,” Tiffany said as she jumped along with Stacy.
Then, as if Stacy suddenly realized that Tiffany wasn’t alone, her gaze fell on Jonathan and she stopped moving. Leaning forward, she met Tiffany’s gaze. “Is this Sean?”
Not wanting to discuss that loser, Tiffany shook her head. “Nope. This is Jonathan.”
Stacy gave Tiffany an approving look and then stepped past her and extended her hand. “Welcome, Jonathan,” she breathed. Tiffany wasn’t sure, but she thought Stacy had batted her eyelashes.
Typical.
Jonathan looked amused as he shook her hand. “Thanks for letting me come.”
Stacy’s gaze was fixated on Jonathan’s hand and then moved up to Jonathan’s arm, her smile widening as she went. “It’s just great,” she said.
Realizing that her cousin wasn’t going to let him go, Tiffany stepped up to them and rested her hand on Jonathan’s arm. “Stacy, where’s Rob?”
“Who?”
“Rob? Your fiancé?”
Stacy stared at Tiffany as if the words weren’t registering. Then she leaned forward with a giggle. “Oh, Rob. Yes. Rob. My fiancé. He’s with his dad on the golf course right now.”
Tiffany pulled Jonathan’s hand free from Stacy’s grasp and then threaded her fingers through his. Anything to keep Stacy’s focus on something other than Jonathan.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Jonathan glance down at their intertwined hands. His attention caused her heart to pound. It must be the nerves she was feeling about seeing her whole family. And the fact that Stacy was hitting on her friend.
Claiming Jonathan as hers seemed to help snap Stacy out of her trance because she glanced over at Tiffany and smiled. “How was the drive?”
“Great. Smooth.”
Stacy’s gaze flicked over to Jonathan and then back to Tiffany. “You know what, I’m glad you brought Jonathan. Ted, Rob’s cousin, called and said he can’t make it.” She glanced back over at Jonathan. “Would you mind filling in?”
Jonathan shifted, pressing his hand to chest. “Me?”
Stacy smiled and flicked her hair. “Of course. You’d fit right in.”
Jonathan glanced down at Tiffany, and she shrugged. “If you want to, it’s okay with me.”
Jonathan nodded. “Sure. I’d need a tux though.”
“Well it’s a good thing they’re waiting for Rob’s brother to get in before they head to the shop. I’m sure they can find something for you.”
Jonathan smiled. “Perfect. I’m happy to help.”
Stacy let out a very loud giggle just as Horace walked up. “Mr. and Mrs. Braxton, here is your room key. Your luggage has been put in the room.”
Jonathan took the two keycards from Horace but didn’t correct the man. Not sure how she felt about being addressed as Mrs. Braxton, Tiffany stepped forward, parting her lips.
But Jonathan just squeezed her hand and pulled her back. Tiffany glanced up at him and he shook his head.
“Well, we should go freshen up and then we’ll be back down,” Jonathan said as he tugged on Tiffany’s hand and stepped toward the elevator.
“All right!” Stacy called after them. “I’ll let Rob know you’re on board,” she said as the elevator doors closed on her enthusiastic smile.
Once they were alone, Jonathan dropped Tiffany’s hand. She stared down at her fingers, wondering why she could still feel the warmth of his hand and the pressure of his skin against hers.
Then, feeling like an idiot, she pushed all those thoughts away. What was the matter with her?
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, glancing up at him.
Jonathan’s lips were tipped up into a smile. “What?”
“Agree to help out at the wedding. You’re already doing so much by coming as my date. I hate that you’re being dragged into being a groomsman.”
Jonathan leaned against the wall of the elevator and shrugged. “It’s fine. No big deal, really. I’m happy to help out.”
Tiffany eyed him. Was he telling the truth? He seemed to be. He didn’t look like he was in distress. In fact, his shoulders were relaxed as he studied the numbers that were climbing.
Maybe he really was okay with this.
Tiffany sighed. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to return the favor, let me know.”
Jonathan glanced over and gave her his million-dollar smile. “Oh, I will.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Jonathan stepped out before Tiffany could ask what that meant. She rushed after him, realizing that she probably shouldn’t have left that offer so open ended.
“Like what?” she asked, stepping up next to him as he pulled out the keycard and swiped the door.
He glanced over at her, but before he responded, he turned the door handle and stepped inside. The soft lighting shone against the gold wallpaper. A dark maroon comforter sat on the large bed. The cream carpet felt plush as she walked across it. It was hands down one of the fanciest hotels she’d ever stayed in.
Regret brewed in her stomach as Tiffany followed after him. She should have been more specific about how she would pay him back. “Like what?” she repeated.
Jonathan dive-bombed the bed—the only bed—and stretched out while propping himself up on one elbow. He was smiling, and she could see his teasing attitude in his gaze. But she’d moved on from their earlier conversation. Instead, she was inspecting the room, hoping that a second bed would magically appear in front of her.
“This is wrong,” she muttered under her breath as she walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver. She’d asked for two beds, not one, when she’d changed her reservation last week. There was no way she could sleep in a bed with Jonathan, and she doubted that he wanted to sleep on the floor for the entire weekend.
The phone rang twice before a woman picked up. “Front desk, how may I help you?”
Tiffany rubbed her temples as she sat down on the desk chair. “There’s been a mistake. I asked for two beds. There’s only one.”
The clicking of keys sounded on the other end, and then the woman sighed. “It says we would try to make that accommodation, but we were unable to.”
Frustration pricked at Tiffany’s neck. “But—”
“Ma’am, we have a lot of guests this weekend, and we are fully booked. I’m so sorry. We can send up a cot, but it will cost extra.”
Tiffany sighed. “No. That’s fine. Thank you.” She didn’t wait for the woman to say goodbye. Instead, she hung up and glanced over at Jonathan, who was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Everything okay?” he asked, glancing over at her.
Tiffany nodded as she made her way over to her suitcase and unzipped it. She needed something to do. Something to distract her. She didn’t know why the thought of sharing a room with Jonathan had her this discombobulated. After grabbing a sundress, she made her way to the bathroom to change.
Just as she moved to shut the bathroom door, she glanced over at Jonathan. His eyes were closed and his hands were resting on his chest. She could see them rising and falling with his breath. There was something calming about watching him. The fact that he looked so relaxed helped her feel relaxed.
She shook her head as she shut the door. Maybe she was going insane.
Yeah, that was it. She was losing her mind.