Three Day Fiancee Page 3

  Yeah. She had every right to be pissed. Calling her his fiancée had been a dick move. “Weirdville?”

  She turned on the water in the sink and slathered her hand with soap. “I can’t get it off. It’s really stuck.” She tugged and twisted on the ring until her finger turned red.

  It was impossible to focus while she vigorously pulled on the ring because of what the frantic movements did to her body—causing her muscles to flex and her softer parts to jiggle.

  Evidently, his brain shutdown procedure had reinitiated, because he didn’t look away even after the tugging and flexing and jiggling stopped.

  “Really?” she said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “That’s your solution to this problem? To stare at my boobs?”

  Busted. “No.”

  “Yeah, tell that to B.”

  Who the hell was B? Before he could even start figuring out what she meant, she opened one of the drawers and ransacked it, shoving aside toothpaste, his toothbrush, and dental floss in her frantic search.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “An apology, for starters.” She closed the drawer.

  “I don’t usually leave those lying around in my bathroom drawers.”

  She didn’t reply as she dug through the contents of the cabinet under the sink. She picked up a bottle of foaming shower cleaner, studied the label, shook her head, and put it back under the sink and closed the doors. “You should probably keep a stash of apologies everywhere. Like a Costco Warehouse–sized stockpile of them.”

  He probably should. Fighting a smile, he leaned against the wall.

  With a yank, she opened the bottom drawer, then slammed it shut. “Oh, crap.” Her skin flushed as pink as her lacy bra and she stood, covering her face with her hands.

  He kept his voice sincere, which took some real effort. “I don’t keep my apologies with the condoms, either.”

  She groaned, lowered her hands, and stared at the ceiling as if searching for some kind of answer from Heaven. If she weren’t so pissed and possibly spinning off the edge, he’d have found it adorable. Nah. He found it adorable anyway.

  “Lotion.” She said. “I need lotion to get this thing off my hand.”

  “I’ll help you get the ring off, but hear me out first.”

  “Nope. Lotion first, then listen.”

  He was afraid when she got the ring off, she’d bolt, and he really needed her to stick around long enough to help him out. He used his calm, platoon leader voice. “Listen, then lotion.”

  After a kick-ass glare that would make even his grandmother proud, she grabbed the handle of the middle drawer then froze, evidently deciding against opening it, probably for fear it contained another box of condoms—or maybe something else. He grinned, wondering where her mind was going.

  With a huff, she straightened and leaned back against the counter. “Fine. Talk.”

  “You’re right. I owe you an apology. I’m sorry I misled my grandmother about our relationship, but I had a good reason.” Her only response was a skeptical lift of her eyebrows, so he added, “I need your help.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You said that earlier today, too.”

  A scratching came from the door, followed by a whine. “A little privacy, please,” he said.

  With a walk that made him want to whine too, she strode to the door and let Beauregard in, arching a brow at Taylor as if daring him to object. He wasn’t going to object to anything right now. He wanted her cooperation too badly.

  “I need you to pretend to be my fiancée.” When she scowled, he spoke faster. “Just for Gram’s party.” The scowl was softened by a questioning arch of her eyebrow. “She’s been at me forever to find a girl and settle down and this will get her off my back. And it’ll make her happy,” he added. “She could use a little happiness.”

  Her brow furrowed and she studied the ring on her red, swollen finger. “What about the person you’re really giving this to?”

  He almost laughed. His schedule was insane and he was on call 24/7. He couldn’t even make it through a dinner date, much less hold down a serious relationship. “I’m not giving that ring to anyone. Not in the near future, anyway.” Not until his job leveled out in a few years and he could hold down regular hours. Maybe things would settle down when he moved away to Boston before the end of the month.

  When she didn’t look like she was going to bite, he added. “In return, I’ll do you a favor. Name it, and I’ll do it.”

  Her other eyebrow winged up and she studied him, eyes traveling down his body from the top of his head to his shoes, with a couple of lingering pauses in between that shot straight to his…

  Woof! Beauregard turned a circle, then sat at her feet, sweeping the tile floor with his tail.

  “Oh, no. Don’t take his side on this,” she said, patting his wide head. “He got into this mess on his own, he can crawl out on his own.”

  Taylor gave her ring finger a pointed stare as she stroked Beau’s head.

  “So, maybe I contributed a little bit to the mess,” she said with a sheepish smile. It was the first time he’d seen her smile, and it took his breath away. Straight, white teeth. Full lips. Total brain shutdown in 3, 2…

  “Okay. So if I pretend to be engaged to you at your grandmother’s party, you’ll do anything in exchange, huh? Name it, you said.”

  He nodded, a wave of relief tumbling through him.

  And then a sly, gotcha smile spread over her lips, and his relief was replaced with tingly prickles of apprehension as he wondered what, exactly, he’d gotten himself into.

  “In exchange for my going through with this, you’ll help Animal Attraction run the charity ball and fundraiser for the new animal shelter next month.”

  Well, that wasn’t at all what he’d expected. That was simple, and something he would do gladly. His buddy, Will, had even mentioned the charity shindig as something the Andersons were helping organize. He was certain they’d let him come back from Boston for the event. “Deal.”

  Her sly smile widened, making him wonder what detail he’d missed. Without a word, she headed to the door, but he took her hand before she opened it.

  “Wait.” He’d evidently caught her by surprise, because she lost her footing and crashed into him from the simple tug he’d given her hand, probably because, as usual, goofy Beauregard was in the way. He wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her against him to keep her from falling—well, that’s why he did it at first. Once she was steady, he continued to hold her because, dammit, she felt good. Too good. For a moment, they both froze. Her soft, rain-damp body pressed against his harder one. Much harder. He cleared his throat, but neither moved. “I don’t know your name.”

  “Caitlin.” Her voice was breathy.

  “Nice to meet you, Caitlin.”

  She remained still. “Uh, yeah.”

  “Last name?”

  “Ramos.”

  “I’m Taylor Blankenship.”

  “I know.”

  He felt her muscles relax a bit and his entire body went on red alert as her curves melted into him. His imagination ran wild, envisioning lowering his mouth to hers. Instead, he cleared his throat and dropped to one knee. Of course, Beauregard took the opportunity to lick Taylor’s cheek before he pushed him away, attempting to maintain his expression of absolute sincerity.

  He took both of her hands in his, trying to look like Prince Charming in a silly movie. “Caitlin Ramos, dog walker extraordinaire and wearer of wet clothes, would you make me the happiest man in all of Weirdville and do me the honor of pretending to be my fiancée at my grandmother’s party so that she gets off my case before she drives me completely nuts?”

  There was an uncomfortable pause in which she simply stared at him, making it feel like his heart would pound out of his chest. And then she did something amazing. She laughed. Threw her head back and laughed, which made him feel lighter than he had in years.

  “You look ridiculous,” she said.

&n
bsp; “I feel ridiculous.”

  The bathroom door flew open and he leapt to his feet, putting distance between them like they were teens caught making out in the basement. Grams looked from one to the other as they stifled giggles. “What in everlovin’ Heaven is going on in here?”

  Chapter Four

  Caitlin couldn’t believe she’d gotten herself into this mess. When he’d said he’d do anything in return for her pretending to be his fiancée, she imagined making him lug all of the equipment to the charity ball venue, and then she’d envisioned getting him to tend and clean up after the shelter animals that would be on display. In retrospect, she should never have agreed to Taylor’s bargain—in truth, she wasn’t sure why she had. Maybe it was because his sweet grandmother had seemed so stoked that they were engaged. Maybe it was guilt over trying on the ring and getting it stuck in the first place. Maybe it was because he was ridiculously persuasive, painfully hot, and had topped it all off with that adorable faux proposal.

  Still… Engaged? Not on her life. Never again—well, at least not for a long, long time. She took another sip of coffee as Taylor pulled a long section of dental floss from a spool on the table.

  “It’s not a loose tooth,” she said as he attempted to thread the floss under the ring, which was no easy task since it was wicked tight. “You can’t just tie string to a doorknob and pull it off without taking my finger, too.”

  “Patience,” he said, still trying to get the floss under the ring. “I’m a man of many talents.”

  Yeah, no doubt. Caitlin was pretty sure B, Deborah, and Felicia could attest to that.

  He turned her hand over in his big palm and tried again, this time successfully threading the floss under and out the other side of the ring. He pulled six or so inches of floss through and turned her hand back over, giving it a squeeze between his. His hands were warm and huge compared to hers, making her feel feminine and delicate. It was unnerving the way her body responded to every little touch. Annoying, really.

  He then wound the floss around her finger again and again, cocooning the knuckle and continuing toward the fingernail, which she noticed had a chip in the purple polish. Perfect.

  His motions were precise and confident as he made progress. The single layer of floss was snug, but not tight enough to cut off circulation in her already tender finger.

  “I don’t see how this is going to work,” she grumbled, more uncomfortable with his nearness than his ill-conceived plan to remove the ring. They guy smelled as good as he looked. Delicious. As if agreeing, her stomach rumbled.

  His dark eyes met hers. “Hungry?”

  Starving. “Nah. I’m good.” Her traitorous stomach growled again.

  “Hmmm,” he said, using the little metal thingy on the floss container to snip the thread at the end of her finger. “First things first.” He took the top of the thread above the ring in his fingers and began to unwind. “First we get the ring off, then we eat some lunch.”

  As in together? Like a date? No freaking way was that going to happen. She was already practically dizzy from being this close and inhaling him like a batch of cookies or something. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” Her stomach growled again and she groaned inwardly.

  Smiling, he focused on her finger, still untwisting the floss from the top. As he unwound it, the ring moved down her finger toward her knuckle with no pain. Holy crap. His crazy scheme might actually work.

  The ring was touching the knuckle now. Hopefully, the floss wouldn’t join in the spirit of her day so far and get tangled up or something.

  “All good?” he asked as the ring made it past the widest part of her knuckle while he continued to unwind.

  She nodded, contemplating writing a how-to manual on creating the worst possible first impression. The swollen, red finger with chipped polish was a winner for sure. Well done, Cait.

  After another round, the ring broke mercifully free of her knuckle and Taylor slid it off the rest of the way, setting it on the table between them. She moved her hand to her lap, both regretting and celebrating the loss of his warm touch. She finished unwinding the rest of the floss as he watched her with a scorching I-told-you-so smile that made her insides flip over.

  “Cool trick.” She crumpled the floss into a ball and set it on the table next to the ring. “Where’d you learn that?”

  He looked away, smile fading. “I was a medevac pilot in Afghanistan.” He stood, opened the fridge, and pulled out a pizza box. “Learned lots of tricks.”

  Medical evacuation. Her gaze flitted to the picture of him in uniform. As her mind ran through possible reasons a soldier would need a ring removed, her heart stuttered. He must have seen and been through horrible things. “And that’s how you know Will Anderson.”

  The Anderson family had semi-celebrity status, often making appearances in the tabloids and papers. They ran all sorts of businesses under the Anderson Enterprises umbrella, the most visible of which was a prestigious antique auction house.

  He set a familiar red, green and white Franky’s Pizza box on the table and sat. “Yeah. Will and I went through Officer Candidate School in Virginia together before we took off on different tracks. As karma would have it, he was my last evac before my discharge from active duty. We reconnected that day and have been tight ever since.” He opened the pizza box and turned it toward her, offering her one of six or so pieces left of what looked to be an everything pizza without olives or anchovies. “I can heat it if you want.”

  Shaking her head, she smiled and picked up a piece. This was her favorite. Cold Franky’s everything pizza. “And now, you work for Will Anderson.”

  “For his family’s company.” Taylor took a slice. “Not many open helicopter pilot jobs in the city. People tend to hang onto them. I’m lucky they had an opening. But enough about me. Tell me how you came to be a dog walker.”

  “Well, I—”

  To her relief, she didn’t have to answer, because his computer and phone dinged at the same time, indicating they were linked. No doubt it was an incoming text like his earlier ones. Caitlin resisted the urge to glance at his computer screen.

  “Michael Anderson just requested an unscheduled flight. It never fails,” he said, shoving his phone in his pocket and taking several huge bites of pizza. “I’m really sorry about this.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “Gotta go. I’ll be back before Beau’s next scheduled walk, so there’s no need for you to hang around. Would you mind locking up when you go?”

  Speechless, she watched as he grabbed his blazer from the back of the couch and a small leather folder from the computer desk. Snatching another piece of pizza and a hat from the hook by the door, he shot her a smile. “I’ll pick you up at Animal Attraction around five for Gram’s party.”

  At least he wasn’t going to come to her apartment, which was a good thing because it was a huge mess because she and Fiona were making table centerpieces for the charity event. “What do I wear?”

  He grinned as if he knew a joke of some kind. “Super casual and warm. She likes outdoor games.”

  What? It was freaking freezing outside.

  And right before the door clicked shut behind him, he stuck his head back in. “And fiancée…” He winked. “Pack enough warm clothes for three days. We’ll be in the Catskills until Sunday night.”

  Caitlin stared open-mouthed at the door for a few moments as his words sank in. Catskills as in Catskill Mountains? Three days? Oh, hell, no.

  She yanked the door open and ran barefoot into the hall. The elevator button was lit up, but he was gone. He must have taken the stairs, the chicken.

  Muttering, she tromped back into the apartment. “He scammed me, Beau,” she grumbled, slipping a foot into her wet boot. “Your owner is a cheater!” The computer dinged. “In every respect.”

  Beau answered with yawn.

  “Seriously, he totally knew I thought it was just a party tonight, not a three-day deal.”

  The dog’s tail thumped on the floor several
times as he gave an unenthusiastic wag while she pulled on her second boot with a squick sound as her heel slid in place. “I would have made a much harder bargain had I known. I mean, I’m gonna spend three days perpetuating a lie in exchange for his working the charity ball for a couple of hours.”

  She retrieved her soggy coat from the hook by the door and slid it on with a shiver. “He hasn’t heard the end of this. I’m going to find the worst job ever for him at this event.” Beau rolled on his back and stretched, and she couldn’t resist rubbing his belly. “I’m serious.” She stood up straight and stared down at Beau. “I should really back out.”

  Beau flopped to his side and closed his eyes. Caitlin sighed. The problem was, she didn’t want to back out. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, a break from the city with all its concrete and negative energy suited. And besides, she really liked his grandmother, who Taylor had practically pushed out the door when they came out of the bathroom. He’d explained later that he wasn’t in the mood for a full interrogation right then, and Grams didn’t appear to mind being hustled off. In fact, she seemed eager to go and genuinely excited Caitlin had agreed to come to her anniversary party.

  Still, three days pretending to be engaged to a man she hardly knew was troubling. A smile tugged at her mouth. Not nearly as troubling as Taylor would find being a one-man moving company and poop scooping service during the charity ball.

  “So, I’ll see you later, big guy.” She pulled her key out of her pocket and Beau sat up. She scratched his broad head and his tongue lolled out. She’d known Beau for a while and the dog clearly adored his owner. Taylor couldn’t be that bad, right? And besides, Jane knew him and was in business with his bosses, so there was that, too. Lots of checks and balances. She gave his apartment one last study. Her eyes landed on the bookcase where his loving family stared back from the frames. Yeah, totally safe.

  Her mind drifted back to the way he’d looked leaping over the sofa wearing only a bath towel, and her heart rate kicked back into high gear, taking the rest of her body along for the joyride down memory lane.