She tugged on her bodice, trying to hike it up to cover some of that impressive cleavage, but it didn’t budge. The damn low-cut, strapless number was barely holding it in, much less covering anything.
Lucky dress.
“I’m fine,” she said, then looked down at herself again, and this time Blake noticed a look of insecurity plaguing her face. Which was the opposite of what he was going for. It had been a long time since he and Carrie really hung out, but he still knew her. Knew that she was never a flash girl, always looked twice in the mirror. Never figured out why, though. It was like she couldn’t see how sexy she was. Always wore oversized sweaters and slightly loose pants. She’d obviously taken a leap to wear this dress—
He didn’t know much about how women thought, but he was putting pieces together on how bad getting stood up probably felt to Carrie on a lot of levels. She hadn’t just been stiffed at the movie theater after a bad date; she’d been ditched on what was supposed to be one of the biggest days of her life.
Blake made a silent promise to kick that son of a bitch Kevin’s ass if he ever saw him again.
“Hey,” he said softly, and tipped her chin to face his face. “I just want you comfy. You look incredible,” he said, mentally telling himself not to glace down for the hundredth time to look at the creamy cleavage.
Too late.
And she seemed to realize it, too, because her lips parted, and holy shit, she was staring at his mouth.
“You two are so sweet!” the flight attendant said, handing each of them a blanket.
“Yes, we are,” Blake said, sticking with the ruse. He had thought it was a good idea. May as well enjoy any kind of perk he could give Carrie. She needed something good today, and if pretending to be a couple so she could experience first class made her a tad happier, he’d do it. Operation Give Carrie Her Fantasy had officially commenced.
When he looked at her again, she was still staring at his mouth. The woman looked starved for any kind of affection, which redoubled his hatred for Kevin. How the hell had that sorry excuse for a man treated her before this? When Blake thought of how much pain she’d been in before Kevin had abandoned her… How much she’d suffered simply by being with him…
“I can tell you two are really in love,” the flight attendant said, and Blake swallowed back a lump in his throat. Love? No, not him. Not ever. But whatever look he gave made Carrie snap out of her trance and appear almost sad. Which made him feel like shit. “We’re in something,” he admitted. Truth. Because they had been friends for so long, and he had a love for her in that way. That was it.
“I hope you like your new seats,” the stewardess said. “But we’re getting ready to take off, so just make sure you keep your belts fastened.”
Carrie looked at him with those wide dark eyes as the cabin quieted and dimmed, preparing for takeoff.
“What on earth are you doing?” she whispered harshly.
“I’m helping you get your fantasy. You’re welcome.”
“But we fibbed to get into first class.”
“Didn’t you say once that you always wanted to fly first class?” he offered.
“I was thirteen,” she snapped. “And I’d just seen that movie where the woman goes to France in that fancy first-class seat.”
“Again, you’re welcome,” Blake said. He remembered that summer when he’d come home from college with Lane. Carrie hadn’t been able to stop talking about all the romantic comedies she’d watched over the summer.
“This is a hostile takeover,” she said stubbornly. “This is my fantasy, and you’re just…”
“Helping? Keeping you safe? Making sure you live your adventure properly while also making sure you don’t get taken advantage of?”
She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. But he needed her to uncross her arms, because Jesus, her breasts wouldn’t stop taunting him.
“If you really feel that way, then do you want to negotiate terms?”
“I’m not your hostage,” she said.
“No, you’re not. But you’re kind of a pain in the ass, so I’m just trying to figure out what you want and how to help.”
There was softness in her eyes for a moment. He knew this was hard on her. He also knew she responded with sass and fire when she felt weak. The sass and fire he could handle, but he’d be damned if he let her feel weak.
“I just want my fantasy. Which means everything I thought this trip could be and should be needs to come true.”
“So I just need to read your mind. Sounds simple enough.”
“I’m glad you can’t read my mind!” she snapped. “This is bad enough without you seeing everything in my head. ‘Oh, Carrie, I didn’t know you dreamed of getting on an airplane with your new husband and joining the mile-high club—’”