Page 35 of Fake in Love


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“No. It’s fine.”

I get in, and he shuts me inside.

The drive over to Longhorn’s is quiet. Jesse and I grab a table on the beach, even though the weather is cool, and we order a round of Cokes and a pizza to share. I don’t care what I eat tonight. I want this to be over.

Already, the locals at the bar are staring at us.

“This is never going to work,” I say. “We hate each other.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate,” Jesse says.

“Where’d you read that? The inside of a Valentine’s Day card?”

“I’ve never given anyone a Valentine’s Day card.”

“No? I find that difficult to believe,” I say. “Come on, Jesse, it’s no secret that you’re pretty popular around town.”

“Exactly the reason we’re doing this,” Jesse says. “And no, I’ve never given a woman a card like that because I’ve never been in love. And I don’t lead people on.”

My insides squirm.

It’s the least romantic thing I’ve ever heard, so why is my heart beating faster? Jesse isn’t noble for being honest. But being honest is sexy.

The soft wash of waves punctuates the music playing from inside the bar. It’s a weeknight, so the noise level is pretty low. I kick off my sandals and dig my toes into the sand underneath the bench.

Our waitress delivers the Cokes. Jesse pops the tab on mine and pours it into my glass, ice clinking.

“Thanks,” I say.

“We should discuss terms.”

“All right.”

“I’m going to need you to make public appearances with me,” he says. “The first one is the department picnic next weekend.”

“Great. More cops.”

“Yeah,” he says. “You’re going to have to get used to that. There’s going to be a lot of cops, a lot of being seen together in public. We’re going to need to get to know each other. What do you want from this?”

Jesse sounds businesslike, and I prefer it that way.

“I… yeah, I guess I’d need you to make appearances at the diner,” I say. “To keep the guy away. And we’d need to spread the information around town that we’re engaged.”

Jesse nods. “I’ll sleep at your diner.”

“What? No. That’s not necessary. Engaged couples don’t have to sleep under the same roof.”

“Sure, but you’re not safe without me there. The only way I’ll let you sleep on your own is if you get an alarm installed.”

“I can’t afford?—”

“I’ll pay for it.”

My eyes nearly bug out of my head.

“No, that’s way too much. I can’t accept that.”

“Then I’ll sleep on your couch if you have one.”

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