Fiance Wanted. Ruth Jean Dale
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more shop talk,” he announced. “Want another drink?”
She shoved his hand away. “I certainly don’t,” she said indignantly.
“Want something to eat?”
“I certainly don’t.”
“Want to go home?”
“Bingo!” She grinned at Brandee. “Going home’s not the big attraction. It’s saying good night that I enjoy.”
And she winked. She actually winked.
Dylan could have kissed her.
“Yuck!” She made spitting noises. “I can’t believe I said that—saying good-night. I’m ashamed of myself.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, thinking he looked mighty smug.
Sounded it, too, when he said, “I thought you did just fine. You can’t be subtle with Brandee, in case you didn’t know. Not that you’re noted for your subtlety or anything.”
“Is that a slam?” She stumbled over a broken patch of asphalt and he caught her arm to help her.
“Nah, that was the truth.”
They reached his pickup truck and stopped while he fumbled in his jeans pocket for the keys. They’d parked right beneath a street light where it was literally as bright as day.
“Got it.” He hauled out the keys triumphantly. “Just let me—damn!”
“What? What is it?”
“Brandee and a bunch of her friends, standing over there in the shadows watching.” He spoke in a muted whisper.
“Where?”
“Don’t look!” He turned her away, so she was looking in another direction. “Apparently she still doesn’t believe us.”
Katy shrugged. “Not much we can do about that.”
“Yeah, there is.”
“Such as? We can’t drip water onto her forehead until she’s convinced. I don’t see—”
“Dammit, Katy, I guess I’d better kiss you.” He added hastily, “Of course, it’ll be like kissing my sister.”
“For sure,” she agreed, but her heart leaped crazily in her breast, “and a sister you don’t like at that.”
“Ready?”
He looked down at her, the light haloing his dark hair, his features completely obscured.
“You mean you weren’t kidding?” Her heart pounded a hundred miles an hour.
“Hell, no!”
“But I can’t just kiss you.”
“Why not? It’s easy.” He put his hands loosely on her shoulders.
She shivered. “B-because I’m not in the habit of kissing just anybody.”
“I’m not just anybody, I’m your soon-to-be fiancé.”
“Nevertheless, I c-can’t put my heart into it without some emotional content.”
‘’Emotional what? Look, Katy, we’re just talking about a kiss here. A very simple kiss between…between friends….”
He drew her a tiny fraction closer, despite her determination to hold back. He was strong, far stronger than she’d imagined, and she felt herself beginning to lose control of this situation.
“We’re not friends,” she managed to say. “We’re…we’re…”
He bent toward her. “What are we, Katy? Can’t wait to see what word you come up with.”
“We’re—” Doomed, she thought, lifting her hands to touch the wide shoulders while his hands drifted to her waist. “We’re going to put Brandee’s suspicions to rest once and for all, I hope.”
“That’s the spirit.”
His lips touched hers, and it was not like kissing her brother. It was like kissing Tom Cruise and Tom Selleck and all the other Toms all rolled into one. With her eyes tightly closed, she felt herself whisked away on a magic carpet to some mythical place where there were no more answers, only questions.
He lifted his head and he was breathing hard. “She’s gone,” he said in a voice that came out a little husky. “For a woman who doesn’t like kissing without emotional content, you’re damned good.”
Releasing her, he unlocked the cab of the pickup, opened the door and lifted her onto the high seat. This time when he grinned, the lamp illuminated his devilish expression clearly.
“Just for the record,” he said, “it was not like kissing my sister.”
To that, she had no response.
At the newspaper office Monday, Katy was met with smiles by everyone she met, up to and including her boss, John Reynolds, owner, publisher and editor of the Rawhide Review and the grandfather of Laura’s husband, Matt.
“Hear you got yourself a new beau,” he said cheerfully. “That Dylan Cole is a fine man. You could do worse, Katy.”
Katy felt her cheeks flame with embarrassed dismay. “What are you talking about?” she demanded. “All I did was go to happy hour with the man and you’re turning it into a lifetime commit—” She caught herself up short. That was exactly what they wanted everyone in town to believe, she remembered belatedly.
“Don’t bite my head off,” John said. “All I know is what a little birdie told me.”
Yeah, Katy thought, a little birdie named Brandee. John Reynolds had the best network of contacts she’d ever seen. Heaven help her if she tried to put anything over on him.
By lunchtime, she was running scared; everyone she met looked at her with that speculative little gleam in their eyes. Hoping for sanctuary, she called Laura and wrangled an invitation to lunch.
“I don’t think I realized what I was letting myself in for with this crazy scheme,” Katy complained, reaching for the tuna salad sandwich Laura had placed before her. “This town has the healthiest grapevine I’ve ever seen or heard tell of.”
“You should have known,” Laura said serenely, taking her seat. “You remember all the gossip when Matt and I were just starting to get together? I seem to recall someone explaining to me that they meant well, so I shouldn’t let it bother me.”
“Sounded good when I said it,” Katy agreed dourly. “But this is happening a lot faster than I ever expected. I thought it would take us at least a few weeks of being seen together before anybody believed us.”
“Maybe the sight of the two of you making out in the parking lot at the Painted Pony speeded things up.”
Katy’s jaw dropped. “We were not making out!”
“Hugging, kissing—most people would call that making out.”
“Well, it wasn’t.” Distracted, Katy dropped her sandwich back on the plate, appetite gone.
“What was it, then?” Laura prodded.
“Just two people pretending.”
“Pretending.” Laura cocked her head, a question on her face. “So how was it?”
“Laura! I’m shocked you’d ask me a question like that.” And shocked at the wave of heat in her own cheeks.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Laura’s smile was devilish. “It’s just that you seem to need some sage advice and all I have is curiosity, just like everyone else.”
Jessica trotted into the kitchen with her younger brother at her heels. “What’s sage?” she asked. “I already know about advice.”
“Sage