From Friend to Fake Fiancé

Mac shrugged, even though she couldn’t see him. If Carter was scared off that easily then he didn’t deserve Laney. End of story and good riddance.

“Listen, Carter isn’t a good fit for you,” Mac started as he glanced back into the restaurant and met Jenna’s eyes. “You deserve someone who will put you above everything else and be completely loyal.”

“Maybe Carter was that person,” she retorted.

Something flashed in Jenna’s eyes before she turned her attention back to whatever her sister was saying. A punch of reality hit him in the gut. From here on out he had to do right by Jenna. She trusted him, only him, to come to her rescue. If someone ever set out to “help” his sister by means of seduction, Mac would rip him limb from limb.

How could he seduce her when she’d placed her heart, her protection in his hands? The answer was as simple as it was complex...he couldn’t.

“We went to great lengths to get Carter out of your life when you needed us to step in,” Mac went on as he took a few more steps down the dock and away from a couple who had just come outside. “Even if Ryker did call Carter to scare him off, then you need to realize he has your best interests at heart.”

“He doesn’t have a heart.”

That was debatable, but still. Mac wasn’t going to keep arguing. “You need to settle this with Ryker.”

“He won’t take my calls.”

“He’s working on a lead.” He didn’t need to say what for. They’d all been diligently searching for the scrolls since their father had made them promise to uncover them. “Don’t take it personally.”

“If you called him he’d answer,” she muttered. “If that jackass thinks he can avoid me...”

Mac smiled. “I’m sure he’ll return your call soon enough. I need to get back to dinner.”

“Sorry. I know you’re with Jenna. Tell her I said hi.”

“Will do. Love you, Laney.”

“Love you, brother.”

Mac shoved the phone back in his pocket and made a mental note to contact Ryker tomorrow. Laney was an adult, yes, but she was beautiful, and as the only female O’Shea, some men saw her as a challenge. Like hell.

“Everything okay?”

Mac jerked around. “Yeah. My sister said to tell you hi.”

Jenna’s face softened. “I haven’t seen her since she came down to Miami to visit you.”

Mac slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get back to dinner.”

Jenna paused, her hand on his chest as she looked up at him. “If we could hurry and pretend we can’t wait to get back to the room that would be great.”

Mac swallowed at the thought of her in a rush to get him alone, but he quickly reminded himself he’d vowed to cool it and respect her during their charade. But he had a feeling that keeping that vow would test every ounce of his willpower and sanity.

“Martin just came in and sat at another table, but I want out of here before you blacken his other eye.”

Mac kissed her forehead. “No more punching tonight, I promise.”

Jenna patted his chest and laughed. “You’re all heart. My sister is pressing for more wedding details, so we need to keep the conversation on something else.”

“Not a problem.” He’d discuss the damn weather before he got into a conversation about his impending nuptials. That day would never come and even in theory, the idea made him cringe.

As they neared the table again, Mac slid his hand along Jenna’s neck, smoothing her hair aside. “I hope you’re ready to put on a show to make this believable. We’ve still got that bet on the line.”

Jenna froze beneath his touch, but quickly recovered enough to throw him a killer smile. “I think you need to get ready for my performance.”

Mac nipped at her lips and pulled her close. “Baby, I’m always ready.”

Seven

Amy was saying something about... Jenna honestly had no clue because Mac had scooted so close to her. His hand was traveling up her thigh, pulling the hem of her dress up, and he’d just whispered something so naughty in her ear, she wondered where he learned of such a thing.

If his intent was to get her flustered and squirming in her seat, mission accomplished.

Jenna tipped her head just slightly, suppressing a groan as Mac’s fingertips made a pattern over her bare skin. If he moved his hand any higher she’d have a hard time remaining ladylike in public.