Eleven
More hungover than I’d been in a long time, I walked into my office late the next morning to find Jack sprawled out on my cream leather couch.
“How did you get in here?”
“Window.” He jerked a thumb behind him. “It wasn’t secure. I fixed it, but you’ll need to speak to the landlord about something more permanent.”
“What do you have against doors?” I dropped my bag beside my desk and headed back out the door to the small kitchen I shared with the other tenants on the floor. I’d picked up a coffee from the deli down the street, but one cup wasn’t going to be enough to get me through the day.
“They’re usually locked and take a few seconds to open,” he said, following me. “Windows are easier.”
I heaved a loud sigh. “Why are you here, Jack?”
“I need a wife.”
“You’ve come to the wrong office. Wives-R-Us is down the hall. This is an event-planning business.”
“I need you to be my wife,” he repeated. “My contact at the building department had a heart attack, so I can’t get the blueprints. I know where another set is located, but—”
“You want to steal them.”
“That word has such a negative ring,” he said. “The only thing I’ll be taking is a copy of digital files.”
“You managed to get in here without a wife,” I said, filling the coffeepot. “I’m sure you can manage to copy some files without one.”
“It’s a two-person job.” He handed me two mugs from the cupboard. “I found the name of the architect who designed the Hearsts’ new house and confirmed that his firm keeps a digital copy of all their designs on-site. I need to access their system to download the blueprints, and that means I need a distraction.”
I added extra-strong coffee grounds to the filter for the caffeine boost. It was going to be a four-cup day. “I have every confidence you’ll find a suitable distraction. You managed to do it with Clare.”
“I need you, Simi,” he pleaded. “We know each other well. Our fake marriage will be believable. I don’t think anyone else would be able to pull it off.” His voice dropped to a low, throaty rumble and he gently cupped my cheek. “We have chemistry. You can’t deny that. Look what happened at the Sawmill.”
A wave of heat surged through my veins, and I pulled away. “Stop trying to seduce me with your…your…seductive ways. What happened in the bar wasn’t real. I was acting the part of your girlfriend. Clearly, I did an excellent job.”
“This time I need you to act as my wife,” he said. “We’ll go in there as a newlywed couple who has just purchased a house and needs an architect to do an extensive renovation.”
“Won’t he need the address? Some proof of ownership?”
“I’ve taken care of all the details.” He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen. “I’ve sent you a link to the property listing. You’ll need to look it over and imagine how you would update the rooms. I’ll also send you some extra pictures. If you think you’ll need to visit the house before we meet the architect, it can be arranged.”
“I know this house,” I said, studying the listing for the 1897 Tudor he’d sent me. “It’s in Evanston near Chloe and my parents. Chloe and I used to ride past it on our bicycles on our way to the swimming pool in summer.”
“I thought something in Evanston would work well because you know the area and it would make for a more believable story.” He gave me a hopeful smile. “We can say we wanted to settle down near your best friend and your family—”
“Well, that part is true. If I ever had the money to buy a house, I’d stay in Evanston, and I would love a house like this. It’s got so much character. Look at these pictures…” I flipped through the photos. “It’s got a huge yard, just like my parents’ house. We could have all my relatives over…and oh my God…look at that kitchen. Nani would just die to cook in a kitchen like that. There’s so much light, but it needs a redo. I’d go with white walls, spotlights, dark cabinets, white marble counters…” I kept scrolling, caught up in the fantasy of owning a house that only millionaires could afford. “Look at the master bedroom! It’s the size of my entire apartment…” I trailed off when I glanced up to see Jack watching me, a wistful expression on his face.
“Sorry. I got off track.” I tucked my phone away. “It’s kind of fun to imagine buying a $6 million house and fixing it up, especially when it’s not in the cards for me. I couldn’t even have paid the deposit for a house like that with the reward money from our last heist.”
“You need to be able to keep him busy for at least thirty to forty-five minutes,” Jack said, his voice curiously rough. “I’ll ask Chloe to call me during our meeting with a fake business issue so I can have her on the line while I find an open terminal to access the server and download the plans. I’ve made the appointment for tomorrow afternoon before our heist meet.”
“That was very presumptuous. What if I’d said ‘no’ to the fake-wife charade?”
His handsome face softened. “I knew you wouldn’t say ‘no’ because lives are at risk and you’re all about helping people even if it means putting your own needs last.”
I put that one on the back burner to mull over after he’d gone and I wasn’t seriously regretting my decision to put the brakes on our relationship because it had been ten months since I’d had sex and he was looking particularly delicious in his black Henley and low-slung jeans.
“Won’t he be suspicious if I’m making all the decisions alone?” I poured two cups of coffee and added four sugars and two creams to his cup. I’d been pleasantly surprised to discover I wasn’t the only person in the world who liked her coffee sweet and creamy, but today I needed the punishment of black coffee to remind myself never to drink alcohol again.
“I’ll just do the ‘whatever makes her happy’ routine.” He took his cup and lifted it to his lips.
“Such a good fake husband.” I absently patted his hand. Big mistake. A zing of electricity shot straight to my core. Jack jerked his hand away like I’d burned him.
“I could be a good real husband, too,” he said quietly.
Whoa. I didn’t see that one coming. “Marriage requires trust and trust means not keeping secrets.”
“There are some jobs where the work is highly sensitive and the person involved can’t share any details with friends or family,” he said. “And during dangerous and discreet assignments, they can’t tell people where they are in the world, especially if they are in a compromised position.” Jack was more serious than I’d ever seen him, and his words carried the ring of truth.
“Are you talking about the CI—?”
Jack cut me off with a finger to his lips and shook his head. “There are many organizations that do covert work.”
“Is someone listening?” I whispered, looking around my office for hidden cameras or recording devices.
“I checked for bugs when I arrived, but if someone is listening from outside…”
“Are you serious?” My voice rose in disbelief. “Who would be listening to me? I lead an incredibly boring life. Are people that desperate to hear me negotiate the best deal for funeral flowers, fight with my cousins about who has to bring what dish to the next family dinner, or talk to Chloe about menstrual cramps?”
Jack shrugged. “People know we were together, and in my line of work, you can’t be too careful.”
I took a sip of my coffee, wincing as the bitter black liquid hit my tongue. “Are you saying that going off-grid and barely contacting me for eight months was a work requirement? It wasn’t a choice?”
“Yes.” He hesitated, holding the coffee cup just below his lips. “And no. It’s complicated. I’m a consultant. I can choose my jobs, but sometimes one leads to another, or I’m unexpectedly detained, or people come looking for me and I have to stay under the radar. That means no contact and no calls.”
I sipped my coffee again, trying to process Jack’s admission, but I was lost in a storm of conflicting emotions. On one hand, I was relieved to know he hadn’t intended to abandon me. On the other hand, I couldn’t help feeling slightly betrayed. Even if he had signed some kind of NDA, why didn’t he trust me enough to tell me the truth, or something close to it? Maybe our relationship wasn’t as deep and meaningful as I thought it was. But worse was the fact that I’d been blaming myself, thinking I was the problem, and the reason he had stayed away.
“There’s more. Isn’t there?” I could tell from the way he fiddled with the bracelet I’d given him that he hadn’t told me everything.
“I’m not good with relationships,” he admitted. “I’ve never stayed in one place or with one person for more than a few months. To be honest, it may be that my commitment issues played a part in my decision to keep taking on new work.”
My breath left me in a rush, like I’d been punched in the gut. “I can’t handle this right now,” I said. “It’s too much on top of everything that’s going on. I need some space.”
“I understand.” Jack gently took the coffee cup out of my hand and replaced it with his own.
“Hey. That’s my punishment coffee. I make it after a night of heavy drinking. I’m trying to elicit a Pavlovian response that would stop me from ever wanting to drink again.”
His lips curled in a smile. “Clearly it doesn’t work, so you might as well drink coffee you enjoy. I don’t like to see you suffer, even if it is just coffee that tastes like tar.”
I felt a sliver of warmth run through me, and with it a glimmer of hope.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at ten a.m.,” he said. “You need to know the house inside out and have your dream reno list ready.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing you want me to add? It would seem odd if you didn’t have a single request.”
Jack turned from the door, considering. “I would want a big glass heated conservatory for wintering plants, enough space in the yard for a garden and for kids to play, and a workshop or potting shed. Maybe a movie room with a giant screen and big leather seats. Possibly a pool table if there’s space. And a mirror over the bed…”
“You’re not getting a mirror,” I said, biting back a laugh. “What if it falls on us when we’re having hypothetical sexy times?”
His shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “I can’t think of a better way to go.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Jack Danger to see Mr. Williams,” Jack said to the receptionist at the architect’s office the next day, looking every inch the well-heeled corporate tycoon in a bespoke wool suit, blue shirt, and red-and-blue silk tie, all from my dad’s store. I’d measured him for that suit, and I’d enjoyed every minute of it.
“Excuse me?” I poked him in the back.
To his credit, he didn’t even flinch until we sat in the ultramodern white-and-black waiting area, and then he rubbed his back and groaned. “Was that really necessary?”
“Mrs. Jack Danger? Like I have no identity beyond being your wife?”
“Most women would dream of having no identity beyond being my wife,” he said with a smug grin. “What else is there in life? You’ve secured the most desirable male on the planet. Hashtag goals.”
“I can’t even…” I threw up my hands. “Your ego is so big, I’m amazed there is room for me on the couch.”
“I’m amazed you didn’t have Jack’s wife tattooed on your ass, or even stamped on a T-shirt.”
“I would have been happy to wear a T-shirt, but you told me to wear a suit.”
“That’s because you look hot in a suit,” he said. “It was solely for my benefit.” He placed a warm hand on my thigh and gave it a squeeze. “I want to peel it right off you—everything but the heels.”
“Hands off.” I slapped his hand away, but it came back like a boomerang.
“We’re newlyweds,” he said. “He’ll expect us to be overly affectionate. The thrill hasn’t gone yet. The bloom is not off the rose. To sell this relationship, we need to be desperately in love, unable to keep our hands off each other except for the half hour I’ll disappear to take a call and download the files.”
“I thought we were supposed to be a professional couple,” I reminded him. “Professionals don’t act like horny teenagers in public.”
“They do if the woman is so sexy the man can barely control himself.” Jack leaned closer and threaded his fingers through mine. “Did you know that after I first met you in the bushes behind the museum, I went to your father’s tailor shop and pretended I needed a suit just so I could spend some time with you and enjoy the gratuitous thrill of having your hands on me while you did the measurements?”
“You dragged me into the bushes and restrained me,” I huffed. “If you hadn’t been so charming, I would have laid you flat with a few well-placed kicks and punches.” I brushed a small piece of fluff off his shoulder. “I still might, although you’ll have to take off the suit. It would be a waste of my excellent measuring job if it were covered in blood.”
“So romantic,” he murmured. “Nothing turns me on more than your violent streak. I would buy another ten suits if you’d touch me like that again. I especially enjoyed your inseam-measuring technique. That little brush of the knuckles…”
My face heated at the memory of kneeling down in front of Jack to take his measurements. “I asked you which side you dressed on so there would be no risk of knuckle brushing.”
Jack chuckled. “I lied.”
“I cannot believe you.” I punched him in the shoulder. “That’s so inappropriate.”
“I like to think that’s when you fell in love with me.” He nuzzled my neck, one hand sliding around my waist to pull me close. “You copped a little feel and were so impressed you just had to have me.”
“And there’s that big ego again, filling the room.”
“That’s not the only big thing in this room, sweetheart.” He slid his hand around my nape and pulled me in for a long, deep kiss.
I stiffened and instinctively pulled away, but Jack tightened his hold. “She’s watching,” he mumbled against my lips. “We need to sell the story.”
To be honest, I didn’t want to fight it. I’d missed Jack. I wanted him. I wanted this to be real. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep myself from melting into him and drowning in that kiss.
“That’s my girl.” His lips swept down my neck, his hand curving under my ass. Before I knew what was happening, he’d lifted me to his lap.
“Put me down.” I shot a frantic gaze in the direction of the nosy receptionist, who didn’t seem to have anything else to do but watch us. “I’m not a child.”
“But you are good at hiding things.” He gave a pointed glance down at his lap. “Although if you don’t sit still, you’re going to make the problem worse, not better.”
I could feel the problem hard against my thigh, so I did what any irritated fake newlywed would do: I wiggled.
Jack bit back a groan. “Are you sure you want to share what has been solely yours since the day we met with the staff at the office? Because I’m not embarrassed about what you do to me.” He trailed his fingers up my leg and along my inner thigh beneath my skirt.
“Stop saying things like that.” I pushed his hand away. “I don’t need you to get that deep into the role.”
This time he laughed out loud. “Do you really want to go there?”
“And don’t talk like that. You’re making me horny. This is a professional office.”
“And you are looking fuckably professional,” Jack said. “I think after this, we should go to your office, bend you over the desk, push that naughty skirt up to your waist, and…”
A man cleared his throat and gave a little laugh. “You must be our newlyweds.”
“Yes, indeed. Fresh from our honeymoon.” Jack helped me up and introduced me to the architect Trey Williams, a tall, slim man in his early fifties with dark hair graying at the temples, long, thin fingers, and thick glasses. He wore a black shirt open at the collar and he smelled of fresh mint.
“I remember those days,” he said wistfully. “Enjoy them while you can.”
“I’m enjoying every minute.” Jack slid his hand under my hair and stroked my nape with his thumb, sending delicious shivers down my spine. My knees wobbled and I had to force myself to walk so I didn’t melt into a puddle on the white marble tiles.
“This is supposed to be for show,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re turning me on. I can’t think properly.”
“If I keep going, will you be so turned on, you’ll forget you hate me and drag me to your place and have your way with me?” he whispered in my ear.
“I’ll go home alone and get my biggest vibrator and—”
“Here we are.” Trey gestured us into his clinically white office. White carpet, white walls, white chairs, white desk. The only spot of color was the black table covered in blueprints.
“Excellent performance so far,” Jack said, keeping his voice low. “Five out of five. Highly recommend.”
But it wasn’t a performance. It was hope and longing mixed with disappointment and desire. I glared. He laughed. It was almost like old times.
“Has the sale gone through?” Trey asked.
“Yes. It went through last week,” Jack said. “Simi is so desperate to move in, I’m paying a premium to my contractor to do the renovations on a rush basis.”
“It’s a beautiful home,” Trey said. “So much character. I’d say it’s probably one of the nicest homes in the area, particularly with that huge backyard.”
“Lots of room for kids to play.” Jack put his arm around me and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “We’ll have to get working on that when we move in.”
I offered my cheek but nothing else because my lips were frozen in a smile. Kids? With Jack? How was that supposed to work when he was away for months at a time and could only communicate by burner phone, if at all. Then I remembered. It wasn’t real.
“Jack sent me the floor plan and details for your new home.” Trey gestured to a large table by the window. “It looks like a major renovation was done just last year, so all the electrical and plumbing is up to date, a few walls were removed to make it more open, and the floors, roof, and windows were redone. I’ve got a few suggestions for the kitchen and bathrooms and for bringing in more light to the hallway, but I’d like to hear your plans first.”
“I’ve got a lot of ideas.” I pulled out my phone and scrolled to the list I’d made after poring over the house plans and pictures. It had been fun imagining the house was mine and all the things I wanted to do with it. Updated modern showers, a huge soaker tub in the master bathroom, a dining room big enough to accommodate my entire family, and a special office in the unfinished loft where I could work from home and watch my imaginary kids play in the backyard on sunny days.
Jack’s phone rang and he took the fake call from Chloe. “I’ve got to step out for a moment,” he said. “Urgent business. Is there an empty room with a secure computer I could use to send out some documents?”
Trey called his receptionist to find Jack a workspace, and then we talked through my ideas for the fictitious remodel of someone else’s home.
“That was quite the wedding gift,” he said, looking up from his notes. “You must have been surprised.”
“Very surprised,” I said honestly. “I never saw it coming. I still can’t believe it’s real.”
Jack had been gone almost forty minutes when I heard the door open. “So sorry, babe.” He leaned down to give me a kiss. “There seems to be a crisis every time I leave the office.”
“We’ve been busy going through my plans,” I said. “Some of them won’t work because of the structure of the house, but—”
“I want you to be happy,” Jack said. “I want this to be your dream house, a place where we can raise a family and enjoy a long, fulfilling life together.”
“Well, then we can’t have both your greenhouse and your conservatory,” I said. “The children will need somewhere to play.”
Jack’s brown creased ever so slightly. “No greenhouse?”
“We can squeeze a few more feet into the conservatory.” Trey tapped the blueprint. “And you’ll have your garden and your potting shed.”
“He does love his garden.” I smiled at Jack, and he gave me the briefest nod to let me know the job was done. “I’m more of a wilderness kind of person.”
Jack barked a laugh. “You? In the wilderness?”
“Yes. Me in the wilderness.” I gave an affronted sniff. “Why is that so hard to imagine?”
“You’re a city girl. You wouldn’t know what to do if you found yourself alone in the forest at night without your phone.”
“Why would I be there?” I let out an exasperated sigh. “Who goes into a forest at night? And alone? And without a phone? This is a stupid game. You’re wasting poor Trey’s time.”
“Actually, I’m just waiting for my changes to the plans to render so I can print out a copy for you before you leave,” Trey said with a smile. “Please feel free to continue. I haven’t enjoyed myself as much in years.”
“Fine.” I folded my arms. “It’s night. I stupidly decided to go for a hike alone and without my phone in a thick forest for God knows what reason and I get lost.” My voice dripped sarcasm. I wasn’t sure if newlyweds were sarcastic to each other, but Jack deserved everything he had coming to him.
“And it’s cold,” Jack said.
“I’m hot-blooded. I don’t get cold. And why are you making this more difficult than it has to be? When have you ever seen me leave my house without a jacket or a sweater? We live in Chicago, not Miami.”
“Okay. You have your sweater. How are you going to get home?” He leaned toward me, his dark eyes intense.
“Chloe would find me. I would have told her where I was going and she’d know something was wrong if an hour went by and she couldn’t contact me by phone.”
Jack sighed. “Chloe thinks you’re somewhere else because you changed your destination at the last minute and forgot to tell her.”
“He thinks he knows me so well,” I said to Trey, “but he’s forgotten I spent my entire childhood being left behind. Once my family drove off and left me at a gas station and didn’t come back for five hours. Another time, they left me in a field when we made a bathroom pitstop because my younger brothers—they’re twins—drank six liters of pop in five minutes to see who could burp the loudest. He probably thinks I’m going to tell him I’ll find north by looking at the moss on trees or orient myself by looking for the sun rising in the east, neither of which are reliable.”
For the first time, Jack’s smile wavered. “You’re stalling.”
“I’m savoring the moment.”
“I can’t help,” Trey said, holding up his hands as if my hesitation came from indecision. “City boy. Right here. Give me concrete or give me death.”
I liked Trey. He’d been very helpful with my fake renovations. And it turned out he had a quirky sense of humor. I felt bad that Jack had just hacked into his computer to copy the blueprints of the Hearsts’ mansion, but at least he hadn’t stolen them.
“I think you’d stay put and wait for me to rescue you,” Jack said. “And that would be the best decision, because I would stop at nothing until you were safe in my arms.”
I snorted a laugh. “Seriously? I wouldn’t need to be rescued. I would find out which way was downhill and locate the nearest water source to follow or I’d climb high and look for gaps in tree lines due to roads, power cables, or train tracks. At night, I’d look for artificial light sources…” I paused when I noticed the smirk had been totally wiped off Jack’s face. “Do you want me to tell you how I’d read the night sky? I can do that, too. Oh, and I also know how to make a fire out of sticks and build a rudimentary shelter. I joined an orienteering club when I was a kid to learn outdoor survival skills, and every Christmas I asked Santa for survival gear.”
Silence.
“Boom.” I opened my hand and closed it again, giving Jack my most satisfied smile. “Mic drop.”
“I thought I knew you,” Jack said. “Now I feel like I don’t really know you at all.”
“You two are hilarious. You make a great couple.” Trey pulled the plans from his oversize printer and carefully rolled them into a tube.
“Did you hear that, honey?” Jack kissed my cheek. “Trey thinks we make a great couple.”
“Have a look over these while you’re walking around the house and see what you think.” Trey popped the plans into a tube and handed them to me. “Let me know a good time to stop by to take pictures and make measurements. I’ll check for load-bearing walls and all that stuff, if you are serious about moving ahead.”
“I’m very serious,” Jack said, staring at me. “When I find something I want, I’ll do what it takes to get it.”
We shook hands with Trey and said good-bye. Jack didn’t talk until we were outside the building, and then only to say, “In here,” when he grabbed my arm and pulled me into an alley.
“What are we…?” I trailed off when he slammed me up against the brick wall, bracketed my hands over my head, pressed his hot, hard body against me, and kissed me like the world was coming down around us and we would never kiss again.
Then there was no talking for a very long time, although there were a lot of hands going where hands shouldn’t go when you’re in public with your fake husband / ex-boyfriend, and not wanting to get arrested for public indecency.
“Jack.” I arched against him, wanting more but not wanting to go to jail and worried about making our relationship, such as it was, even more complicated. “Jack. We have to stop.”
“You are so fucking hot,” he murmured, pressing his lips against my neck. “I would never have imagined you had survival skills. I want to get lost on a mountain with you. It would be so hot watching you save us.”
“I thought you’d be annoyed because I thwarted your attempt to show off your own survival skills by making me look bad.”
“I have a thing for competence.” His hand was under my shirt, his fingers warm on my skin.
“I have a thing for not getting my heart broken again even if I’m so wet my panties have become redundant.”
“You can’t say things like that and not expect me to do something about it.” He hesitated. “Can I do something about it?”
It was too much. The gritty alley. The risk that someone would turn the corner and see us. The hour-long foreplay with all the touching and kissing and verbal sparring. The beautiful house and the fake renovations and the imaginary life I’d never have. And Jack. So hot. So sexy. Driving me into a frenzy of desire. Wanting me in a way I had never been wanted before.
“Yes,” I breathed out the word in a sigh.
Jack slid his hand between my thighs, fingers stroking where once dry panties used to be.
“This doesn’t change anything.” I sucked in a sharp breath when his fingers breached the cotton barrier. “I’m still angry with you.”
Jack froze, his fingers only inches from where I wanted them to go. “Are you sure you’re good with this?”
“Yes, so long as you understand that it doesn’t mean anything. After this, things go back to how they were.”
Twenty minutes later, disheveled and breathless, we held each other in the shadows.
“Jack?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You can have your greenhouse.”