Hit and Run Page 6

  “I could put on some of that Enya stuff you like so much.”

  “Doesn’t really go with the purr of the engine.” He chuckled as she scanned through radio stations, his crush on her going up another five percent when she settled on a station playing Aerosmith. “So, I talked to Hunter to make sure there’d be food that you can eat at this party,” he said, his lips twisting into a grin.

  “What do you mean? I don’t have any allergies.”

  “Right, but I know how much you like kale and lentils and kombucha, and that’s not exactly barbecue fare.”

  “At least I don’t fuel myself with M&Ms and beef jerky.”

  “Beef jerky? You think I eat beef jerky?”

  She angled herself towards him, and his insides warmed. He liked her attention on him. A lot. “I think you’re blessed with the kind of metabolism that allows you to eat pretty much whatever the hell you want because you also work out.”

  He smiled at her, his eyebrows bouncing. “You think I work out?”

  “I’ve seen you without your shirt on a bunch of times, Beau. You definitely work out.”

  “Well, you are the fitness expert. I just hope the quinoa and bean salad isn’t gone by the time we get there.”

  “Hey, I happen to like quinoa.”

  “Bullshit. No one likes quinoa.”

  She laughed and they fell into an easy silence as the city started to drop away, the landscape changing from buildings and freeways to flat, open spaces dotted with trees and horses. He kept sneaking little glances over at Piper as he drove, and every time he did, his heart did this weird little kicking thing in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

  What he was sure about was that he needed to keep his head on straight and not get caught up in something that wasn’t…anything. He didn’t normally have that issue, but things were different with Piper. He’d had a thing for her for months now, and the more he got to know her, the more he liked her. Mentally, he reviewed his rules, knowing he’d be fine as long as he stuck to them.

  No repeats. – Okay, well repeats were necessary in this circumstance, but they weren’t sleeping together, so it was fine.

  No dates. – Also necessary. Can’t have a pretend girlfriend without pretend dates. But they’re pretend, so it’s fine.

  No exchanging of personal information. – Oops. He’d already told her about Gramps and the car. They’d exchanged phone numbers, and he knew where she lived. But again. Necessary.

  No feelings. – Did a crush count as feelings? Nah. Definitely not.

  No promises or commitments. – They had a deal, a necessary one. So…also fine?

  Shit. They hadn’t had sex—and they clearly weren’t going to—and he’d already broken all of his rules in service of their agreement. But it was fine because they were on the same page, and it was all for the greater good. It was fine. Everything was fine.

  Except maybe for the fact that he was half hard just looking at Piper in her cute little outfit, humming along to CCR, her heady floral scent filling his nostrils. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman the way he wanted her. It wasn’t just about scratching an itch. It was about her. Piper. And fuck, that was pretty much the opposite of fine.

  No, what he needed to do was focus on the objective, which, for once, wasn’t getting a woman in bed. It was rebuilding his reputation by convincing everyone that Piper was his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to scare her off and ruin their little arrangement by forgetting that she’d already shot him down.

  She doesn’t want you. Remember that.

  They pulled up to a large, sprawling mansion surrounded by greenery, a line of tiki-style torches lighting the path from the circular driveway to the house. Several cars were already parked ahead of him, so Beau pulled off to the side, not willing to park right next to anyone if he could avoid it. He cut the engine and then jogged around to Piper’s side, opening her door for her. He extended his hand to her to help her out, and the slide of her palm against his had all of his nerve endings standing at attention. Holding her gaze, he lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her delicate knuckles. Then he lifted his free hand and waved as Jordan Miller drove by in his truck.

  He winked at her. “Gotta keep up appearances, right?”

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes holding his. “I have a question,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The sounds of country music, dozens of voices, and children’s laughter permeated the air, and he had to lean in a little closer to hear her. So close that her breasts grazed his chest with every breath he took. “Does anyone else know that this isn’t real?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. It’s just between us. I may have to tell Aerin, but we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.” He knew it was childish, but he didn’t want to give Aerin the satisfaction of knowing he was doing what she’d suggested with the whole fake girlfriend thing. He bent his head lower, his lips grazing her cheek as he spoke. “So we have to be convincing. Getting busted for having a fake girlfriend would be even more embarrassing than having my sex life splashed across the internet.”

  She nodded shakily. “Right. Got it.”

  Beau was pretty sure being convincing wasn’t going to be the hard part—at least, not for him. No, the hard part was going to be remembering that it was all just a show. He slipped a hand under her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “Thank you. Seriously. You’re saving my ass, here.”

  She smiled, dimples flashing, and the urge to kiss her was so strong he had to clench his jaw. “I’m being well compensated. No thanks necessary.”

  With a massive effort, he backed away, once again reminding himself that this was just for show. He tucked her hand in his, tracing his thumb over her knuckles as they walked up to the house, the sounds of the party getting louder as they approached.

  Beau led her inside, where dozens of guests were mingling in the living area straight ahead. To the right was a massive, open kitchen where Hunter had set up a makeshift bar on the island. The food was plentiful and scattered throughout the main floor of the house, platters with those tiny hamburger things that were never quite satisfying, chips and guac, and other appetizers. Through the French doors that led to the backyard, he could see the pool and a gigantic inflatable bouncy castle where several small humans were screaming bloody murder.

  “You want a drink?” he asked, guiding Piper toward the kitchen.

  “You think they have any coconut water? Organic?” she asked, and his steps faltered. But then she winked at him. “A glass of wine would be nice.”

  “Good. Because I told him about the kombucha, but I forgot to ask him about the organic coconut water. My bad.”

  She laughed, and Beau felt several sets of eyes land on them as they stepped into the kitchen. Dylan and Hunter stopped their conversation, Abby froze with a guac-laden chip halfway to her mouth, and Javi’s eyebrows inched up his forehead.

  “Hey, Piper,” said Hunter carefully, the question obvious in his tone. “Didn’t know you were coming. Nice to see you.”

  “You got something on your hand, there,” said Dylan, gesturing with his beer bottle to where Piper’s hand was tucked into Beau’s. Just that small bit of contact had him intensely aware of his hand, his arm, and the heat of Piper’s body beside him. God, she made him feel like a freaking teenager, all hormones and nerves along with the knowledge that the only action he’d be getting would be from his own hand.

  She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a movement his fingers itched to repeat. “Yeah, Beau invited me. I hope that’s okay.”

  Hunter smiled. “Of course it is. Can I get you a drink? Wine? Beer?”

  “A glass of wine would be great, thanks.”

  Abby shoved her chip in her mouth and chewed, frowning at them. “So,” she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s this about?”

  “Beau? Beer?” asked Hunter, and Beau nodded.<
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  “Yeah, thanks. And this is me bringing a date to Hunter’s party. Problem?”

  “Nope. Just, uh, surprised is all.” She stuffed another chip in her mouth, studying them. When she’d finished chewing, she cupped a hand around her mouth, stage whispering to Piper, “Blink twice if you’re here under duress.”

  Piper laughed and gave Beau’s hand a squeeze. Warmth trickled through him, coating his insides like honey. “Nope. I was tired of him pestering me and I put him out of his misery by saying yes to a date.”

  Javi shrugged. “Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s been flirting with you for months.”

  Piper accepted her glass of wine from Hunter and bumped Beau’s shoulder with hers. “I don’t think it was a secret that I flirted back.”

  God, $50,000 wasn’t enough money for the performance she was putting on right now. She seemed so sincere, so genuine, and damn if a part of him—a large part of him—didn’t wish she were.

  “So you two are…” started Dylan, flicking his finger back and forth between the two of them.

  “Dating,” said Beau.

  “I thought you didn’t do girlfriends.” Dylan popped a chip in his mouth with a shrug.

  “People can change.” And Beau believed that. Truly, he did. He just wasn’t so sure it applied to him given his metric ton of baggage.

  Dylan’s wife Maggie stepped into the kitchen, slipping an arm around Dylan’s waist.

  “You find it?” asked Dylan, and Maggie nodded, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

  “It had fallen between the seats.” She turned, her eyes landing on Piper. “Hey, I’m Maggie McCormick.”

  “Piper Rhodes.”

  “Oh! The yoga teacher. I’ve heard such nice things about you.”

  Piper’s cheeks went the cutest shade of pink, and she tucked another strand of hair behind her ear, something Beau was starting to realize was a nervous gesture. “Thanks. I really like working with the team. They’re a great group.”

  Maggie, who was about four months pregnant, went off with Abby, presumably to talk about pregnant lady things. Just then, a toddler came hurtling into the kitchen at full speed, almost colliding with the kitchen island. But before he wiped out, Hunter scooped him up, tickling him and making him squeal with laughter.

  “Aw, is this your little guy?” asked Piper, her expression soft and warm.

  Hunter grinned. “This is Knox. Say hi, buddy.”

  Knox held out his pudgy arm and waved mechanically. “Hi, buddy.”

  Everyone laughed, and Beau had to admit, it felt good not being one of the few guys without a date at these things. Not that Piper was actually his date. It was just for show. But still. He could enjoy how it felt while keeping perspective.

  Hunter’s wife Marlowe, who was also several months pregnant with baby number two, came into the kitchen, pressing a hand to her chest in relief when she saw Hunter holding Knox.

  “Oh, thank God. It’s getting harder and harder to keep up with him.” She glanced over at Beau and then did a double take when she saw him holding hands with Piper. Then she smiled and held out her hand. “Hey, I’m Marlowe.” Everyone chatted for several moments, mostly about baseball and the season, before the group slowly drifted apart.

  Piper nudged him, then tipped her head in the direction of Christian Hale, the team’s newest player, deep in conversation with a pretty young woman. “That’s Jordan Miller’s sister,” said Piper. “I overheard her talking to someone else. She’s staying with her brother for the summer.”

  “Oh, boy. Hale’s living dangerously. Not only is Jordan his teammate, but they’re really close. They played college ball together. If he’s messing around with his best friend’s sister, that won’t end well.”

  “Mmm. You get the popcorn and I’ll get the sodas.”

  Beau laughed. “Thanks for coming with me. You’re really selling it.”

  She shrugged, sipping her wine. “It’s not that hard.”

  “No?” he asked quietly, angling his body toward her.

  She traced her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “You’re sexy, you’re fun, you’re successful. It’s not so hard to imagine dating you.” Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Not that I’m saying…I mean, we’re not, and I didn’t…I just don’t want you to think that I think that we…”

  “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. I’ll take the compliment and leave it at that.” A strange sensation blossomed in his chest at the knowledge that she thought he was sexy and fun to be with, that she thought being with him was easy. It felt good, and for a second, it made him wish that things could be different between them. But they couldn’t, and he knew that.

  Over the next hour, they mingled with the other guests, posed for several pictures that he was sure were going to be splashed all over Instagram before the night was through, and laughed and talked and got to know each other, sharing little pieces of information about where they’d grown up (mostly South Dakota for him, Texas for her), their favorite music (classic rock for him and anything upbeat for her), their favorite foods (cheeseburger and fries for him, chocolate cake for her) and more. And the more he learned, the more he liked her. The more he wanted to know. It was a new feeling, sharing these kinds of tidbits with someone, soaking up the information they were sharing.

  Darkness started to fall, and they made their way into Hunter’s backyard with everyone else for the promised fireworks display. Dylan and Hunter headed into the pool house and started pulling out box after box of fireworks, joking around as they set everything up.

  “I hope they know what they’re doing,” murmured Piper as he led her to one of the dozens of blankets Marlowe had spread out across the lawn beyond the pool. The inflatable castle had been shut off and deflated.

  “I’m sure they’ll be fine. And if they set themselves on fire, they can just jump in the pool,” he joked. She laughed, sinking down gracefully onto the blanket, her long legs stretched out in front of her. He sat down beside her, his hip nudging hers.

  “You know, there’s always something kind of wistful about holidays like this for me,” she said quietly, leaning back on her elbows.

  He laid down on the blanket, propping one arm behind his head. “Why’s that?”

  She paused, her head tilted before she answered. “Growing up, I didn’t really get to celebrate stuff like this.”

  He frowned, turning his head to look at her. “How come?”

  She glanced at him, and he could tell she was weighing how much to say. How much to share. She sighed, gazing up at the darkened sky. “It was just me and my mom, and we didn’t have much. She did her best, but she worked two, sometimes three jobs just to keep a roof over our heads, food on the table, and the electricity on. There was never time for things like holidays or vacations, never money for that kind of stuff. Life was all about work and survival. Doing what you needed to do to make it through. And it got me where I am today, but it didn’t leave a lot of room for fun or things she thought were frivolous.”

  The fireworks started to explode above them, bursts of white and red and blue. The crowd ooh’d and aah’d as everyone settled in to enjoy the show.

  “Where was your dad?” he asked, sitting up, resting his wrists on his knees. The fireworks shimmered above them, casting flickering shadows on Piper’s delicate face. Her expression was serious, drawn, and he got the distinct impression that he wasn’t the only one in this arrangement carrying some heavy stuff from the past.

  She shook her head. “Not around.” For a moment, she didn’t say anything else, but then she started to talk as they both looked up at the fireworks. He moved closer, leaning in, not wanting to miss what she was saying. “My mom was twenty-two when she got pregnant with me. She’d been working as a receptionist for a big company and got promoted quickly, eventually working as an assistant to one of the bigwigs. He was twenty years older than her and married, but they had an affair, and I was the result. When he found out she was pregn
ant, he had her transferred to another department and threatened to make her life a living hell if she ever told anyone.”

  “Sounds like a real charmer,” he said dryly, and she snorted out a laugh. “So I take it you’ve never met him.”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve Googled him, obviously, but I’ve never made contact. There’s no point. He made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with us. He was perfectly content to ruin my mom’s life and then just carry on, going home to his wife and his mansion, golfing at his country club on weekends while mom and I clipped coupons and struggled to get by.”

  He could hear the loss, the sadness in her voice. He recognized it almost instantly because he also knew what it felt like to be unwanted by the person who’d created him.

  “I’m sorry, Piper. That’s rough. Believe me, I get how hard that is. My dad wasn’t around either.”

  “No?” She sat up, her eyes meeting his in the flickering dark, booms and pops exploding overhead. The shimmering light of the fireworks made her skin look like it was glowing.

  He cleared his throat, feeling as though he were ripping himself open, just a little, to share this with her. But for once, he actually wanted to, because he knew she’d understand.

  “My mom was young, too. Nineteen when she had me. She’d fallen in with the wrong crowd in high school, getting into drugs, stealing shit. She even did a stint in juvie. My dad—sperm donor, really—was her dealer, and she paid him with sex when money was tight. That’s how she got pregnant.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “She’d take off all the time when I was young, disappearing for weeks on end, going on benders. Usually, she’d leave me with Gramps, but sometimes it’d be someone else, some stranger. It was pretty clear I was cramping her style and she wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “Do you know who your dad is?”

  He nodded. “I’ve never met him, though. He’s in prison.”

  “And your mom?”

  He sucked in a shaky breath, his chest tight. “Died of an overdose when I was thirteen. I went to live with Gramps full time then. He always blamed himself, thinking he hadn’t done enough for her. But I know he tried. He tried so damn hard.”