The Wedding Hoax (7 page)

“I am happy, Mom,” she said, forcing a smile to her lips that she hoped looked genuine. She wanted more than anything to be able to confide in her mom and tell her the truth about her relationship. But she couldn’t. Doing that would make her mother feel like a burden and that was completely untrue. She would do anything for her mom.

Including fake-marrying Cole.

“You’re right, Cole is important to me, and I really should go call him back. He’ll worry if he doesn’t hear from me soon.”

She wandered to the waiting room at the end of the hall. Luckily, the room was empty today. She dialed his number and took a few deep breaths while she waited for him to pick up.

“Is everything okay? Is Helen all right?”

The concern in his voice surprised her, and she was momentarily speechless. She hadn’t expected him to waste time worrying about her family.

“She’s okay,” she said, her voice still strained with stress. “It was a scare. One night in the hospital for observation, and she can go home.”

He let out a long breath. “That’s great news.”

Comfort swept over her. It was nice to have someone share her concern for a change, even if it was still shocking that concern came from Cole.

“When you’re done at the hospital, can I come by?” he asked. “We need to talk.”

“There’s no need. I thought about what I said earlier, about how I acted earlier. And I know now I was unfair to you. We’re both still trying to adjust to our new status. I’m not going to bail on our deal.”

He was silent for a moment. “I’m glad to hear that, but are you sure?”

Was she sure? Not really. But she was positive that surviving another broken heart from Cole would be easier than seeing her mom go without proper medical care.

“I’m sure,” she said, injecting confidence she didn’t completely feel into her voice. “I’ll see you next week at the boutique to pick out dresses, okay?” She hung up the phone before he could say anything else.

Sitting in the waiting room chair, she finally let the tears she’d been holding back flow freely. Tears of worry for her mom. Tears of stress over the pressure of this investment deal going right. Tears over what she feared she might have to endure over the coming months.

Her mind was made up, once and for all. She would be Cole’s fiancée in public. And in private, she would do whatever she could to protect her heart from him.

Chapter Eight

Cole adjusted himself in the boutique chair as Daisy came out in yet another stunning dress. He didn’t think it was possible to be attracted to a woman in a wedding gown, but apparently it was.

And it was maddening.

Damn it. He didn’t want to be any more attracted to Daisy than he already was. At this point, he wanted her to walk down the aisle in a white garbage bag so he didn’t have to see the shape of her curves, teasing him about what he couldn’t have but also couldn’t stop thinking about.

Nor could he stop imagining those undergarments she’d mentioned to the women at the bridal show. Was Daisy wearing something sexy under all that white lace and satin, too? A push-up bra? A thong?

He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees, ignoring the ache in his groin at the thought of Daisy in a thong. He didn’t even have to use his imagination. An image of her lying on her stomach across his bed came to mind. Her skin had been smooth under his fingertips as he traced the lace of her thong to where it disappeared between two luscious hills of milky-white flesh. She’d shivered beneath his touch when he’d caressed the tiny crease where her bottom met the backs of her thighs. And when he’d playfully smacked her ass, the apples of her cheeks weren’t the only spot on her body to blush as she’d rolled away from him, giggling and smiling seductively.

If he’d realized that would be one of his last moments with Daisy, he would have savored it more, prolonged his own enjoyment to push hers further. What he wouldn’t give to see that spark in her eyes when she was on the cusp of going over the edge again. Or the pink tinge in her cheeks as his tongue tasted her.

“Cole!” Daisy’s voice was sharp, piercing his thoughts and shattering the nice memory he was currently enjoying more than the present moment.

“That one is nice,” Cole said on instinct, forcing himself to focus on the dress she wore instead of what she might be wearing underneath it. This dress was similar to the others—sleeveless, white, satin and beads, and expertly hand-stitched. He’d never really given Daisy a lot of credit for her work before, but he should have. She was a master of her craft.

She put her hands on her hips. “That’s what you said about every dress so far. Are you even paying attention?”

No
.

“I’m trying to, but you know how I feel about shopping.” He laid his head back and rubbed his eyes hard, hoping to erase the memory of Daisy’s thong from his brain long enough to get through this torture without a raging hard-on.

“How could I forget? You’re worse than taking a child shopping. At least with a kid you can give them a snack or a toy to keep them busy.”

“I could go for a snack.” He shrugged.

She clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes at him—an expression of annoyance he was extremely familiar with. There was something so rewarding about soliciting this response from her.

“I don’t know why you’re here,” she said, turning once more in the mirror.

The dress had delicate ribbons crisscrossing an open back that tied just above where her thong would be, if she’d worn one. Now this was a dress he could get on board with.

“I don’t know, either, but I like this dress. It should be in the running.”

His gaze traveled up her spine to find her pinning him with a glare before rolling her eyes again. “Sure, now you’re interested in dresses as long as they show enough skin. I get it.”

Third time. He smirked with pride.
Still got it.

“You’d look great walking down the aisle in anything.” It might be true, but the thought of his wedding day, fake or not, still made him feel nauseous.

“I should have pulled some dresses from the rack and been done with it already for all the help you are.” She stepped off the small platform she’d been on in front of the mirrors.

He jumped up to stop her before she made it back into the changing room. “I’m sorry. Your gowns are beautiful, and they all look amazing on you. You should really take this as a compliment.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Thank you. But the photographer is here to take pictures of you helping me choose dress options.”

Cole glanced over to a photographer who’d been hanging out in the corner of the boutique the entire time. The man was so quiet, Cole had forgotten he was taking pictures for the magazine. “All right. Take that one off, and I’ll pick out a dress so I’ve done my part. Deal?”

“Fine.”

She disappeared into the changing room but returned a second later. “Tonya’s disappeared, and I can’t get out of this on my own. Can you untie me?” She turned her back to him.

He stepped into the change room. The ribbons were silky in his fingers, reminding him of her skin. Gently pulling on one of the ends, he held his breath as the ribbon loosened, the bow at her small of her back vanishing to reveal a patch of naked, ivory skin. He slipped a finger between her back and the ribbons. She shivered as he tugged the last of the ribbons free.

“Zipper, too.”

He trailed his finger along her exposed skin where it met the edge of the satiny material in search of the elusive zipper. He hoped not to find it too soon.

She peered back over her shoulder at him, her eyes darting downward as if trying to see his work. “Right there,” she said as his finger snagged on a hard bit of metal. “You know what? I can probably reach that on my own.

No way. She wasn’t getting away now. “I’ve got it.” He held her gaze while he slowly pulled down the tiny, two-inch-long zipper. Every pair of teeth that opened separated the material a little more. And every fraction of separation sent his thoughts swirling to what he’d find hiding underneath.

A thong. As suspected…hoped for. White, lacy, just like the one she’d worn when they’d been together.

The click of a camera made them both jump. The photographer smiled at the display scene on the back of his camera. “That’s the money shot, right there.”

He stepped back and retrieved his hand from where it had been covering the triangle of white fabric that was Daisy’s thong. Shit! Had he been groping her without noticing? Best to play it off casual. “That ought to do it. I’ll go pick a dress. For you. To try on. Without my help.”

She nodded and snapped the dressing room curtain closed.

This time, he was the one to roll his eyes at his own pathetic, nervous rambling.

He sifted through the racks and chose two dresses for Daisy to try, hanging them outside the door to the changing room. “Here’s a couple of dresses. I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be back in a minute.”

On his way back through the workroom, a shimmer of ivory and beads caught his attention. Over in the corner, a gown on a mannequin twinkled under the lights. He made his way across the room to see it up close.

The gown was nothing short of spectacular. He’d never seen anything like it. Simple, tasteful, meticulously detailed, and absolutely breathtaking. Now that he’d found it, all of the other dresses she’d tried on paled in comparison.

He peeked around the back of the mannequin, unsure of how to remove the dress without ruining it. When he couldn’t see an easy way to get it free, he picked up the entire thing, mannequin and all, and brought it out to the boutique showroom.

She was already on the platform again. Her gaze caught his in the reflection of the mirrors. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”

“I found it in the back.” He set it down and stepped back to look at it again. “I couldn’t figure out how to get it off the mannequin, so I brought the whole thing with me. I hope that’s okay.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s not okay. And I’m not wearing that dress.”

“Why not? You told me to pick dresses, so I did. This one is perfect for you. It’s like you made it with yourself in mind.”

“
That
dress is not available for
this
wedding.” Her jaw was set, her eyes narrow, challenging him to dispute her.

His
wedding wasn’t worthy of
that
dress? Nice. He’d see about that.

“Just put
that
dress on so I can see it. Please.”

“No.”

Damn it. He’d asked nicely. Why was she so infuriating and confrontational? Why the hell did he even give a damn about this stupid dress?

“Why?” he demanded, watching as her nose crinkled as her scowl deepened. Damn that little nose crinkle was cute. Had it always been there when she glared at him, or was this a special occasion? Surely he’d pissed her off more than this previously.

“None of your business,” she said, holding her ground like a hostage negotiator. “The other two dresses you picked can go into the public poll, but that one is staying here. Don’t even try to fight me on it. I’m the designer, and I say that dress isn’t available.”

They stared at each other for a moment before her features softened as her fight waned. “Please, Cole,” she whispered. “Let this one go.”

When she looked at him like that, she could ask him to move a mountain and he would. Damn. “Next time you want my opinion on something, just email me with your final decision so I don’t have to waste my time with a useless appointment.”

Isn’t this exactly what his father had said would happen? Wedding detail distractions when he should be focusing solely on his magazine. He didn’t have enough time for both, damn it.

He crossed the room to grab his jacket from the back of the chair where he’d thrown it earlier. He turned to leave without another word but was stopped in his tracks at the sight of the photographer snapping pictures and Tonya behind the register with her mouth hanging open.

This was bad. They may not be in public, but they still had witnesses, watching and documenting their every move. He didn’t know if Tonya was in on their little secret or not, but the photographer definitely didn’t know, nor could he find out.

He crossed the room and stroked his thumb along Daisy’s cheek, cupping her jaw in his palm. He saw hurt in her eyes. The sight made the last of his annoyance crumble, and all he wanted to do was make things better. Not for the camera. Not for Tonya. But so that he wouldn’t have to see that look anymore.

Since when did he give a damn about a stupid wedding dress? And here he’d made a complete ass of himself fighting with her over one.

“I’m sorry, Dee.” He used her nickname on purpose this time, knowing it would soften both of them. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

She scrunched her forehead as if confused at his sudden change of attitude. He nudged his head the tiniest bit in the direction of the photographer. She caught on quick and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling herself against him. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that dress isn’t ready yet. I know it looks done, but it isn’t.”

“You’ll look amazing in any gown.” As he said the words, he knew they were true. “I’ve got to run.”

She nodded.

Daisy stood with her hands on his waist and her gaze locked on his. He couldn’t look away. His pulse pounded in his ears, but he couldn’t be sure if it was from the adrenaline still in his system from their fight, the desire he’d felt for her earlier, or something deeper. Like the way he and Daisy had fallen into their old ways with each other so easily—fighting, flirting… The only thing missing was the fornicating.

She licked her lips and shifted against him.

Did she want him to kiss her? For the camera? To throw Tonya off the scent of their secret?

Whatever the reason, he would give her one for the cameras, but that was it. He didn’t want whatever it was he felt toward Daisy growing any stronger. He was already fighting with himself to keep away from her. He couldn’t fall for her again. If he did, she’d want a real wedding. He was willing to relive a lot of moments with Daisy, especially the sexy ones, but fighting over a wedding that could never happen wasn’t high on his list of do-overs.

He brushed his lips against hers until he heard the
click
of the camera a couple of times, then pulled back and released her. “I’ll call you later,” he said as he walked out of the shop.

…

Daisy placed the last few items she needed to take from the design house into an overstuffed suitcase that sat against the wall. A second suitcase was already filled to capacity with Daisy’s clothes and necessities for her trip to the Chicago bridal show. In a couple of hours, she’d be off for a weekend away. With Cole.

Tonya worked silently, wrapping the last veil and tiara. But even in the quiet, Daisy could practically hear the questions on Tonya’s mind.

“Spit it out already,” Daisy said, facing her assistant. “I can’t take the silence anymore. Just say what’s on your mind and get it off your chest, once and for all.”

Tonya stopped wrapping the veil and focused on Daisy. “What’s up with you and Cole?”

“We’re getting married.” Daisy grabbed the veil out of Tonya’s hands and busied herself by making sure the wrapping was done.

“Why?”

“Because we lo—” Daisy cleared her throat. “Love…each other.”

“Really? And you’re suddenly in love with the idea of going to bridal shows and posing for magazine photos and letting brides all over the world decide what gown you should be married in? Married to Cole.”

Daisy nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“And this newly rekindled romance happens to coincide with a rather large influx of cash from a certain investor?”

She wished Tonya would let it go. “Weird timing, right?”

“Then why did you act like it was terrible finding Cole at the investment meeting with Mason? I thought you were going to kill me.”

“Seeing Cole again sparked those old feelings between us, and it all happened very quickly after that. I was pissed about him being at the meeting at first because I wasn’t ready to admit I still had…
have
feelings for him. But he kept trying to get me to talk about our past, and when I finally agreed to go out with him again, he proposed. Then we mentioned it to Mason and decided to tie our wedding into the advertising plan we’d already agreed on. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?” She laughed and set the veil she’d finished with into the suitcase. She kept her head down, shifting things around for a few minutes, hoping that when she stood again, Tonya would have dropped her interrogation.