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Fake Engagement, Real Temptation

Page 11

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She’d stopped herself, but not in time. Blake tried to wipe his grin away, but he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Mile-high club? I’ll say it again. You’re the complete opposite of predictable.”

She frowned and shook her head. “I didn’t want you to come,” she said honestly.

“I didn’t want to come, either. But I’m

going to see this through and keep you—”

“Safe. Yeah, I know. I’m just another responsibility.”

Why did she say that like a bad thing?

She huffed and glanced around. “I suppose this is a nice upgrade.” She looked him over and Blake saw that stubbornness of hers gearing up, but then came a genuine smile.

“I hope you do that more this week,” he said.

“Do what?” she asked.

He touched her chin, quickly but gently. “Smile.” When a small stain of pink hit her cheeks, he added, “You’re beautiful, Carrie. I’ll do my best to make the fantasy you want happen this week.”

“Why?” she asked.

Because I care about you.

Because I promised Lane I’d take care of you.

Because my ribs hurt thinking of you sad.

Because you used to run around with a curtain on your head when you were ten, telling everyone you were going to get married and have a family someday and make your grandma’s homemade hot fudge for Christmases just like she did.

And because deep down, that asshole Kevin broke your heart and maybe even a few of your dreams.

Instead, he went with another form of the truth. “Because you’re my responsibility.”

She glanced down at her hands and nodded. “A responsibility you think is pretty?” she asked softly.

The lights blinked, the airplane started slowly moving away from the gate, and her breath stopped. She was nervous. Little goose bumps pricked over her flesh.

He grabbed the blanket he’d stuffed under the seat and covered her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, watching her breathing increase.

She didn’t say anything. Just closed her eyes hard, then opened them again.

She tugged his hand, bringing him close. Nice thing about first class was the big chairs and privacy between them and everyone else. And with the lights dark as well as the sky, the overnight flight to Hawaii would be mostly quiet.

The plan engine revved, and the wing plates lifted and lowered.

Carrie squeezed his hand harder.

“You’re afraid,” he said, looking over her face.

She didn’t say anything. It looked like she was trying to focus on the simple task of taking in oxygen. Jesus, she was really scared. He’d never known that about her.

He got back to their conversation in hopes of distracting her. “You’re more than pretty; you’re gorgeous,” he said just as the plane stopped and revved again, readying to run down the jet way.

“Then why didn’t he want me?” she asked softly. So softly he almost didn’t hear it.



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