The Wedding Hoax

To save their companies, they’ll plan the fake wedding of the century…

Meet the bride…

Daisy Willows is a wedding dress designer who longs for her own happily-ever-after. In the meantime, she’s struggling to keep her business going even as she covers her mom’s increasing medical expenses. So when a bridal show expo owner offers to help her out, she can hardly say no. And all it takes is Daisy pretending she’s back with her playboy ex. And that they’re engaged…

Meet the groom…

Cole Benton works for his father’s bridal magazine, which is on the verge of downsizing. All he really wants is a crack at an outdoor lifestyle magazine, and if he has to fake-marry Daisy to make it happen, he’s definitely in. Now Daisy and Cole are playing up their fake engagement, shopping for rings, and even kissing upon request. All of which is makes it a whole lot harder to remember that their big white wedding is a big white lie…

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Heather Thurmeier. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at
www.entangledpublishing.com
.

Lovestruck is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Alethea Spiridon Hopson and Tracy Montoya

Cover design by Heather Howland

Photography by Hot Damn Stock

ISBN 978-1-63375-087-6

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition September 2014

Chapter One

Daisy Willows fought the urge to tap her fingers on the counter as she waited. All she wanted was a nonfat, extra-foam mocha latte to start her busy day. Was that so much to ask? A bridal-gown designer needed proper caffeination if she was expected to come up with brilliant new dress ideas for potential clients.

Especially if those new ideas had to happen in ten minutes.

She scooped up her latte the second the barista set it down, taking a sip. She sighed and her eyes fluttered closed as the rich aroma drifted around her and the steamy mocha warmed her throat. It might be steamed milk and steeped ground beans to some people, but to her, this was the nectar of the Gods.

Satisfied, she spun on her heel toward the door, her caffeine fix gripped tightly in front of her. She opened her eyes and stepped forward, but it was too late to stop her already moving body. Instead, it was like the world turned to slow motion as she collided with a broad chest, her hand instinctively squeezing her cup tighter until it crumpled. Mocha latte splashed onto the front of her crisp, white button-up shirt in a spectacular splatter that would make Jackson Pollack proud.

“Hot!” She pulled the wet material away from her skin and blew down the front of her shirt to cool her skin. The liquid wouldn’t burn her, but it still stung.

“Are you okay?” The voice sent a tingle down her back and goose bumps up her arms. That was a voice she knew but hadn’t heard for a while.

No, no, no… Anyone but him…

Cole Benton.

Of all the days for her to wander into his neighborhood…

Of course, this was his favorite coffee spot, so it stood to reason he might stop in here from time to time, but this second? What were the odds? She should have picked a different place. But this one
did
make the best mochas she’d ever tasted.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in through her nose, trying to find her happy place. It didn’t include him. Not anymore.

She plastered on her best I’m-so-over-you smile. “Oh, this? It’s nothing a laundry pen and the bathroom hand drier won’t fix.”
Relax. You got this. He’s no big deal.
“Nice to bump into you. Literally.” She tried to giggle casually, but it came out sounding distinctly snort-like.

He met her grin with his own and sent her a flash of perfectly white teeth. Damn, he had a sexy smile. The rest of him was pretty damn sexy, too. Green eyes with little flecks of gold in them, a chiseled jaw that would make a Greek God jealous, and chestnut-colored hair just long enough to drag her fingers through but not so long it was feminine.

Oh no, he was all man.

“Daisy?” If she wasn’t mistaken, he almost sounded shocked. He reached around to the counter behind her and grabbed a handful of napkins, then proceeded to dab her shirt. “That’s not helping at all.”

“Then stop doing it,” she said between clenched teeth while his fistful of napkins pressed into her breast. Another dab, this one against her nipple. She batted his hand away. “I’ve got it.”

His hand stilled, and he peered down at her with a grin bordering on mischievous. “Some of it soaked up.”

“I’m not sure napkins will do much more good. But thanks for trying.”
And for feeling me up ’cause that’s what my morning was missing.

He tossed the soggy napkins into the trash. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

Was that his polite way of asking what the hell she was doing in his regular coffee shop? Well, it wasn’t her fault he’d shown her his favorite place when they dated. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that they made the best latte this side of 42nd Street.

“I’m meeting with a bride-to-be soon. You?”

“On my way to work, like always.” Just like him to imply she should know better than to come here at his usual time. It had been a year already. How was she supposed to remember his exact commute to work each morning?

She peered over his shoulder at the guy with the camera hanging around on the street out front. She groaned. “He’s here for you and not us, right? Not that there’s an
us
anymore.” She cleared her throat, then nudged her chin toward the windows. “Or a real celebrity sighting nearby?”

Cole glanced back, then shrugged. “I can’t see why they would be here for us. We’re old news.”

When they’d dated, they had been splashed across Page Six a few times. And occasionally a tabloid put in a snippet about somewhere they’d been or something they’d done. She’d never really figured out the public’s fascination with them. She designed dresses; he ran a magazine—big deal. But for whatever reason, they’d often been news. It was the one thing in their relationship she didn’t miss.

“Totally old. Moldy old.”
Shut up!
“I don’t know why we were ever newsworthy to begin with. It’s not like you’re George Clooney and I’m Vera Wang or anything.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m still one of the magazine industry’s most eligible bachelors, according to
Forbes
at least.” He chuckled with a smug expression. Cole Benton belonged to the Benton family, an American dynasty of billionaire entrepreneurs whose ties to the country dated back more than a century. Cole’s father owned a magazine empire that rivaled Condé Nast, and Cole, his eldest heir, had the right combination of money, smarts, and stunning good looks to capture
People
magazine’s attention on at least a monthly basis.

His comment pierced her chest like a hot dagger. Of course he was still an eligible bachelor, since he didn’t want to marry her or anyone else.

“Still playing the field, huh?” She forced a casual laugh and patted him playfully on the shoulder. “No settling down for this guy.”

“Nope. What about you? I don’t see a ring on that finger. Haven’t snagged a husband yet?”

She hoped to relieve the sudden tension building in her shoulders with a shrug. “Oh you know, I dabble here and there.”

“I do enjoy a good dabble.” He winked. Trust him to turn an innocent conversation into dirty talk.

She swatted him again across the hard muscles of his upper chest and rolled her eyes, exaggerating her annoyance. She enjoyed a good dabble now and then, too, but had been dabble-free since their relationship ended.

“You always did,” she mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Glancing around, she spied the ladies’ room in the back corner. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I really should get cleaned up if I’m going to make it to my meeting without being too late.”

They eyed each other awkwardly for a second. What was the right etiquette for parting from an ex?

“See you around,” he said.

“Yeah. See you soon.” She added a wave as he walked away.

What? See you soon? Not if I can help it.

…

Cole strode through the office, smiling and offering quick greetings as he went. He enjoyed the hum of the editing floor. Something about the creativity of the space and the collaboration of his employees working together really energized him, making him excited for the next issue of
Exclusively Yours
to hit the shelves.

As he glanced around the office at his hardworking, loyal staff, he prayed there would be many more issues to come. He knew subscription numbers were down, but when his financial heads called an emergency meeting, he feared it was worse than he originally thought.

Cole pushed open the door to a room of stoic colleagues staring back at him.
Great.
“Gentleman,” he said in greeting, taking his seat at the head of the table. He sat forward and leaned his elbows on the edge of the polished mahogany wood. “Give it to me straight. How bad is it?”

“Bad,” Bruce said. “We’re looking at major downsizing in the next quarter if we don’t find a way to turn the numbers around.”

“How much downsizing are we talking exactly?” he asked. This wasn’t good. The economy still wasn’t back on its feet and Cole had no desire to add to the unemployment rate by laying off a bunch of staff.

“At least half unless we find an influx of cash or a ton of new subscribers right away.”

“We’ve increased our advertising, added a digital subscription services, and created a new
Exclusively Yours
shopping app. What more can we do?”

“Just hear us out,” Kevin said.

The tension in Cole’s shoulders grew and a headache sprang to life behind his eyes. “Spit it out,” Cole said, his voice even, trying his best not to pass judgment before he heard their ingenious plan.

“We go to William and enlighten him to this situation and get a temporary cash infusion to stimulate sales further.”

Cole shook his head and sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “No way. We can’t go to my father. Find another way.”

“We’re running out of solutions,” Robert said softly as if trying to comfort a child. Exactly how Cole would feel going to his father for money.

Making the bridal magazine successful was his only shot at proving to his father that he could handle a bigger, more challenging one. If he couldn’t run this one well, he’d never earn the outdoor magazine he really wanted.
Prime Outdoors
was his ultimate goal, and he’d do whatever it took to reach it.

“There has to be another way.” The silence in the room thickened as the men shifted glances at each other. “What?”

Bruce cleared his throat. “There’s one other possible solution.”

“Great.”

“Well, you may not like this solution any better.”

“I won’t know until you tell me.” Cole’s patience was waning quickly.

“We’ve heard rumors about Mason Bridgewater looking for a new investment.”

“The guy who organizes the bridal show where we had a booth last year? Excellent. Maybe we can do some cross-promotion together. That could be huge.” Exactly the kind of opportunity the magazine needed right now.

“Don’t get too excited yet. We have to see if the rumors are true and if they are, you may not like whatever he’s offering.”

Cole leveled his gaze on his colleagues. “Listen, if Mason saves me from having to admit I’m coming up short to my father, then I’m all for it. How soon can I meet with him?”

“We’ll try to get a meeting scheduled within a couple of days.”

“The sooner the better. And if he’s not interested anymore, then find me another investor who is. The magazine will be back in the black in no time.” Cole smiled feeling triumphant and confident in the future. Any investment deal was better than telling his father he’d failed the magazine. If it also meant his business would succeed, his employees would all keep their jobs, and he would finally be put in charge of
Prime Outdoors,
then he was ready to sign on the dotted line.

Whatever the deal was, he’d never say no.