Agreeing, she followed him to a sporty gray BMW coupe and allowed him to help her into the passenger seat. She buckled her seat belt while he stowed her guitar case in the back and then slid into the driver’s seat. She resisted the urge to trail a finger over the sleek silver logo for the M8 model on the black leather dash; everything about the vehicle was luxurious and elegant.

  A world away from her hand-me-down and patched-together existence.

  “I was surprised to see you tonight,” she said a few minutes after he’d steered the vehicle onto the interstate heading south. “Did you cancel your trip today?”

  “No. I was in New York City before nine this morning and finished my business by three. I flew home directly afterward.” His thumbs drummed softly against the steering wheel.

  “A quick trip.” She tried to imagine the kind of life he led, hopping on planes twice in the same day, all in the course of business. His world was so different from hers.

  “I felt compelled to return early after that photo of us in the paper caused a bit of an uproar in my family.” He glanced her way briefly, and the eye contact was as compelling as any touch. “Would you mind if I made a quick stop on the way home? I hoped to show you something.”

  Surprised that he’d not only sought her out but also wanted to spend more time with her, Jessica reminded herself to proceed with caution. Still, she couldn’t resist the pull of a surprise. “I don’t mind an extra stop. And I’ve certainly had my share of responses from friends and family about that photo of us.”

  He pressed the accelerator harder as he passed a slow-moving farm vehicle. Jessica’s gaze moved to his thigh, where the muscles in his leg shifted the denim of his jeans.

  She wanted to touch him. Skim her palm over his knee and up his leg. How had she gone so long without anyone so much as turning her head, and now that she’d met Oliver, she couldn’t quit thinking about being with him again?

  “I’m not surprised. That picture of us was...highly suggestive.” He turned toward her as if waiting for her to acknowledge this. Her mouth went dry at the memory of the moment, and she nodded. Then he continued, “To my parents’ eyes, the image was practically an engagement.”

  The hint of bitterness in his voice caught her off guard, reminding her how strongly he’d resisted his family’s matchmaking attempts. She knew the resentment wasn’t personal. But still, it stung a little.

  “Did you tell them it was taken out of context? I can’t believe someone just happened to capture those two seconds when we were standing so close.” And looking for all the world like they were about to jump each other. Which they were.

  Honestly, she’d had to fan herself anytime she pulled up the image on her phone today.

  “It was difficult to get a word in edgewise when my parents were in full-court press mode to invite you to our next family meal.” He downshifted as they reached the last exit before Royal, the traffic thinning out the farther they drove from the city. “My father’s health has been a question mark after he suffered a stroke nine months ago, and I’ve read that lowering stress in the year after a stroke significantly reduces the chance of a second one. Seeing how happy Dad was—how happy they both were today—made me think it would give them some peace of mind if I was in a steady relationship.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your dad’s health scare. I can understand why you’d want to consider dating for real.” She empathized completely with wanting to do what was best for family. Even if she couldn’t deny a twinge of disappointment that their picture together might be the catalyst to make him start seeing other people.

  Then again, why wouldn’t he date prolifically? He was young and successful. Handsome and ambitious. Anyone would be thrilled to be with him.

  “Far from it,” he corrected her, a wry smile curving his lips. “I decided I would prefer to maintain my fake dating life.” Glancing her way as he slowed for a stoplight, he added, “With you.”

  Five

  Switching on his turn signal to exit the highway, Oliver had a surprise destination in mind before returning to Royal tonight. He’d thought long and hard about how to pitch his idea to Jessica, and in the end, he decided to invest as much energy and effort into convincing her as he would use to sway any client into doing their marketing business with Nexus.

  Which meant Oliver wouldn’t just try to charm a yes out of her—he planned to outline in clear terms how his proposition would benefit her. Of course, while he was outlining, he also planned to make sure she was having a good time. Schmoozing was an important part of any business deal.

  Hence a stop at a local county fair.

  “Excuse me?” Jessica shifted against the leather passenger seat, turning toward him as much as her seat belt would allow. “Since when do we have a ‘fake dating life’? The last I knew, we shared a moment. One night to indulge ourselves.” She hesitated, her fingers spinning around a strand of dark brown hair, before she added, “And there was nothing false about it.”

  The challenging note in her voice told him he would need to utilize all his persuasive skills if he hoped to win her over on his plan. And he certainly didn’t want her doubting anything about what they’d shared in bed.

  He slowed the vehicle as he reached the signs for the county fair, the bright lights of the midway a beacon in the distance.

  “Of course not,” he backpedaled, regrouping his arguments as he followed a line of cars toward the fair entrance, a Ferris wheel visible above the treetops ahead. “Last night was one hundred percent authentic. I only meant to say that photo of us gives the impression of a deeper, ongoing relationship that we haven’t established. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  While Jessica mulled that over, he parked the BMW at the end of a row in a grassy field, then exited quickly to help her from the car. The scent of fair food and livestock mingled in the evening air as he took her hand in his. Her pale blue dress hugged her curves, the hem grazing just above her knee. Silver sandals beaded with colored stones showed off a bright pink pedicure and a silver toe ring on her smallest toe. She still wore the musical-note-and-G-clef earrings, though they were less visible today since she’d worn her hair down.

  All of which he took in quickly, doing his best not to stare. But she was even lovelier than he remembered, and he’d spent the whole damned day remembering.

  He paused beside her, doing his best to keep his hands off her, wary of spooking her before he had his answer. “So? What do you think?”

  “I’ll grant you that,” she answered before peering around, a strobing purple light from the nearest ride flashing over her face as she took in the surroundings. “What I can’t figure out now is why you’ve brought me to the county fair to discuss your fake dating life.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him, but good humor danced in her blue-green eyes. He had to battle a fierce urge to kiss her, to run his hands over her curves and press her against him.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” he promised as he took her arm and led her toward the main gate, needing to stay focused on his goal for tonight.

  Now that he’d formulated this plan, he had every intention of seeing it through.

  The scents of popcorn and cotton candy grew stronger once he paid the admission and guided her through the games and exhibitions toward a tent in the back. He’d called ahead to pull some strings and request special seating for the evening musical act, although he hadn’t known what to expect until he saw the small second tent off to one side of the big top, a white “Reserved” sign hanging from the gold rope that prevented people from entering. Inside the open tent flaps, a table for two was visible, a hurricane lamp beckoning a welcome.

  The opening act on the main stage was just beginning, a husband and wife bluegrass duo of national acclaim. Even now, the fast tempo of the string melody swelled from the concert speakers.

  Jessica halted outside the big top, squeezing his hand lightly as she lifted onto her toes to see beyond the crowd to the stage. “Can we listen for just a minute? These two have the most beautiful harmonies, and her flat-picking is amazing.”

  “We can listen for as long as you like from the comfort of your private table, just through here.” He pointed toward the freestanding tent that resembled a repurposed fortune-teller booth, complete with gold fringe on the purple door flaps and a few gold stars painted on the canopy. Not quite what he’d been envisioning, but he was grateful someone at the front office had found a way to accommodate his request. “Welcome to your surprise.”

  By the way Jessica’s eyes glowed with pleasure, he would have thought he’d secured VIP seating at the most sought-after show in town. Her hands clutched his arm and squeezed tight. “Really? That is incredibly thoughtful of you. Music is the best gift.”

  Every extra minute he’d spent on the phone during the flight back to Royal researching something fun for tonight paid off. Seeing her happiness filled him with a level of satisfaction he couldn’t have possibly anticipated.

  Moments later, seated in folding chairs under the fanciful canopy with a café table between them, Oliver waved over a nearby ticket taker who’d been keeping an eye out for them. The guy called for an extra hand from a nearby food vendor so that they could order a couple of waters plus funnel cake.

  Jessica crossed her legs, her sandaled foot tapping in time with the music. While waiting for their food, Oliver asked her more about the instruments on stage. Even though there were only two performers on stage, the number of spare instruments spanning the stage behind them was nothing short of impressive.

  “Cello, mandolin, fiddle, five-string banjo,” Jessica said, naming them all in order for him and pointing to each in turn. “She plays them all.”

  “So you’re familiar with this duo?” He hadn’t been certain of her musical preferences, so he’d taken a chance when he’d read the bio of the critically acclaimed pair. “I didn’t know if you’d enjoy bluegrass.”

  The crowd around them burst into applause as a song ended, and they followed suit. Once the next tune started—a slower number with a nostalgic sound—she answered, “I’m a fan of good music. Period. Particularly musicians who are elevating their art form or trying out new things. Whether it’s rock or jazz, zydeco or opera, I’ll take a listen to anyone testing boundaries.”

  “But if you’re in your own backyard on the weekend, what’s on the playlist?” He leaned closer, savoring the chance to be close to her, and—he hoped—her ultimate agreement to his plan.

  “You can’t take Texas out of the girl,” she proclaimed, tilting her chin. “My personal taste skews country, of course. Although I have to admit, I’m one of those people who is just waiting for the guitar solo.”

  He laughed at her surprising answer; any more of a reply would have been interrupted by the arrival of their food and drinks. For another couple of songs, they enjoyed their funnel cake and the performance while Jessica pointed out the subtle differences in the artists’ playing styles as they changed instruments. He slid his chair closer to hers to hear her better over the music. Also to breathe in the scent of her hair when she leaned over to explain percussive fingerstyle—a term that had his brain reeling in all sorts of sensual directions before he was able to tame his imagination.

  It was all he could do not to slip his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer. Which meant he needed to get on with proposing his plan—the outcome feeling more important than it should.

  “I owe you an explanation about tonight,” he began, sliding his empty paper plate aside. “About why I brought you here.”

  “It wasn’t because you longed to hear my overly detailed explanations of guitar traditions?” she teased before taking the last bite of fried dough.

  He followed the fall of powdered sugar from her lips, which left a narrow streak of white on her mouth before she swiped her paper napkin along the sweet spot. His own mouth went dry at the thought of tasting her there. Had it been less than twenty-four hours since the last time he’d had her beneath him? An ache with her name on it felt like it had been there for weeks. Months.

  “I enjoyed every moment of that,” he told her honestly. “I admire your passion for what you do.”

  His voice hit a deeper note that she must have noticed because her gaze dipped lower for a moment, skating around his shoulders and his chest before meeting his eyes again.

  “Thank you.” She cleared her throat, effectively banishing a husky rasp before she began again. “I forget sometimes that not everyone is as fascinated by string techniques and sculpting new sounds as I am.”

  “All the more reason why you shouldn’t set aside your degree work next semester.” He figured that was as good of a segue as any to his plan. “You deserve to continue your studies.”

  “Deserve or not, I can’t afford to remain in the program now,” she reminded him, swiveling in her chair to face him more directly even though they sat close together now. Her knees brushed his beneath the small table. “As I explained last night, I’ll be working full-time—at least temporarily—to help my parents since they sacrificed for me to begin my studies in the first place.”

  “What if there was another way?” He withdrew his grandmother’s ring from the back pocket of his jeans and placed it on the table between them. “What if we entered into a mutually beneficial arrangement for a few months that would help you pursue your studies and help me by buying some breathing room from family expectations?”

  Her blue-green eyes zipped from the ring to him and back again. Her throat moved in a slow swallow.

  “Is this where the fake dating that you mentioned earlier comes in?” She brushed off the remaining powdered sugar from her fingers before pushing her plate away.

  “It is.” He kept his focus trained on her face, trying to gauge every nuance of her expression.

  “Ordinary people don’t do things like that, Oliver. Fake romance only happens in the movies.”

  “So don’t look at it as ‘fake.’ Consider it a relationship that meets very practical needs.” He said it to appeal to her pragmatic side, but when her brows lifted, he realized how she’d interpreted his words. And his body reminded him that he would be very on board with meeting all her needs. Repeatedly. “I don’t mean those kinds of practical needs,” he hastened to explain in spite of where his mind went. “Although anything is negotiable.”

  “You want to negotiate a relationship of practical needs.” She tucked a stray dark hair behind one ear. “I’m paraphrasing, of course.”

  He huffed out a long breath, realizing he was making a mess of things by treating the dating proposition as a business pitch. Jessica Lewis would be out of his life forever if he didn’t find a way to appeal to her.

  He picked up his grandmother’s heirloom ring and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

  “I want you to slide this diamond band on your finger and come to family dinner with me once to ease my family’s concerns about me settling down. Give my father the peace of mind that will lower his stress level. Then I’d like you to attend the rest of the interminable Noble–Ramos wedding events with me to make a social obligation more enjoyable and to support the idea of us as a couple.” He thought his outline had been succinct and accurate.

  So maybe it still sounded like a negotiation. But at least he had Jessica’s undivided attention now. Or maybe he’d just surprised her into silence.

  “In exchange, I could help you stay in school until you finish.” He’d turned this part over and over in his mind, trying to find a way to intrigue her into the bargain without sounding like an arrogant ass.

  “How? It doesn’t help me to have a fiancé,” she explained bluntly. “I’ll be working full-time now, so if anything, I’d have less time to devote to dates—real or otherwise.”

  “Which is why it will benefit both of us if you stay in school instead. You could take on a role as my fiancée as a better-paying alternative.”

  She was already shaking her head before he’d finished the sentence. Even worse, she covered his hand where he held Grandma Evie’s ring and slid it away from her.

  “No. Taking money to date you? That is cringey. It makes me sound like—”

  “Someone who is passionate to finish her degree and share her gift for musical therapy.” He covered her hand where it still rested on his. “And if we do this together, I would be only delighted to make that happen for you. In exchange, I get the satisfaction of knowing I did my part to put my father’s worries about me to rest. I can have the chance to make my parents truly happy with me for the first time in...a long damn time.”

  For a moment, she said nothing. From the stage, a lively version of “I’ll Fly Away” floated over the crowd, the music wrapping around the two of them while he kept hold of Jessica’s cool fingers in his, the gold band now sandwiched between their palms.

  He could feel her pulse there, a percussion all its own, while she stared at him with thoughtful eyes. He could sense her softening. Knew that he’d tapped into something important to her when he’d mentioned her music. Was it selfish of him to appeal to her that way for something he wanted very much for himself? Especially now that he’d seen her again and recalled how much he really wanted to entice her back into his bed?

  Pushing aside a guilty pang with the reminder that he would be helping her, too, he told himself to stay the course. He’d only act on the attraction if she wanted to, damn it. Their potential agreement had nothing to do with the way her every sigh made his skin sizzle.

  “I’m listening,” she said finally, giving him a level look. “If I agreed—and I’m not saying that I will—how exactly would this work?”

  He released a breath that felt like he’d been holding all night long. She’d given him a green light to tell her more.

  He wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to win her over.