When she touched his arm, he realized she’d been talking to him—or trying to—but he’d been too zoned out to notice. “Sorry, what was that?” he asked, feeling awkward as hell. He found himself wanting to impress her, and he sure hadn’t been successful at that so far. He was the VP of a very profitable company but had all of the grace of a schoolboy around her.
Before she could answer, she let out a huge yawn and immediately blushed a pretty shade of pink. “Sorry about that,” she murmured. “I was actually asking if it was okay if I turned in for the night. It’s gotten pretty late, and I was up early this morning helping Crystal.”
“Oh, of course,” Jake answered quickly, feeling like a heel for keeping her up. Now that she’d mentioned it, he could see the telltale signs of fatigue on her face. He deposited her suitcase inside the doorway. “The bathroom is right through there,” he added, pointing it out. Then he stood with his hands in his pockets feeling a little uncertain as to what to do next.
Casey was the only overnight guest he’d had in years. When his parents were in town, they usually chose to stay at a beachside hotel, and his brother, Josh—well, he tried not to imagine where he ended up most nights when he visited.
Lydia gave him an amused smirk. “I think I can take it from here. If I have any problems, I’ll let you know.”
He backed away so suddenly, he stumbled, nearly falling onto his ass. You’re so smooth, I can’t imagine why she wants to be rid of you. “So . . . I’m just down the hall if you need anything. It’s the first door on the right.” He turned to leave and then swung back around. “Actually, that’s wrong. It’s the first door on the left from your room. It’s the right from the living room. Or would you consider it the last door technically?”
“I’ll scream,” Lydia deadpanned. At his alarmed expression, she giggled before adding, “I meant if I can’t find you, I’ll just yell your name.”
“Oh . . . right.” He smiled before reluctantly walking away and shutting the door behind him. He was making such an ass out of himself that he should have cut his losses and bolted immediately instead of hanging around her room like some kind of creeper.
If what had just occurred was any indication, his pretend marriage was going to be one hell of a trip. He was usually pretty smooth around the ladies, but that certainly hadn’t been the case just now. He needed to get his shit together and fast. Maybe if he and Lydia sat down again tomorrow and further defined the parameters of their relationship, he might be more comfortable around her. As it stood now, he had no idea how long she planned to remain his wife—or what exactly that relationship entailed. If they were going to live together, though, things needed to be spelled out between them so there were no misunderstandings.
Every moment he was around her, his attraction to her only grew stronger. He owed her so much for agreeing to help him with the Chris situation. He didn’t want to push his luck, but damn if he didn’t want to do something crazy like ask her out on a date. Be grateful that she’s still speaking to you and leave it at that tonight. He decided to listen to the wise voice in his head and go about his usual nightly routine. One that normally didn’t include having a wife just down the hall. He had no idea how he’d ever sleep, but he also suspected he should get used to the frustration because he had a feeling he hadn’t seen anything yet.
When you got fake married, it likely meant other women were probably off the menu for a while.
Chapter Four
When Lydia woke up on Sunday morning, it hit her that she hadn’t thought the whole moving in with Jake thing over very well. Normally, she would have spent her day doing laundry and getting prepared for the week ahead. Sometimes she would have lunch or dinner with a friend, but those get-togethers had grown rare since Crystal met Mark. Naturally, her friend was part of a couple now and spent most of her free time with her man. Lydia didn’t begrudge her that; after all, she’d been that woman once when Brett was alive. Even after three years, she still had trouble adjusting to being single. She’d made joint decisions for so long that she automatically felt like she should consult someone before agreeing to anything.
Not knowing what else to do, she showered and dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a fitted white top. She threw on a pair of low-heeled sandals and took a breath before stepping out into the hall. She was bracing herself to see Jake again when she caught a flash of motion before something slammed into her legs. She rocked back, just barely managing to catch herself. “What the . . .” she murmured as she tried to get her bearings.
Then she heard a giggle before a childish voice asked, “Who are you?”
Lydia looked down to find Jake’s daughter grinning up at her. Dear Lord, the child was more beautiful in person and resembled her daddy even more. And those dimples. Lydia could feel her insides melting into a gooey mess. She squatted down, bringing herself eye level with the curious little girl. “I’m Lydia and I believe that you’re Casey.”
The little girl screwed up her face before asking, “Are you a stranger? ‘Cause I can’t talk to you if you are.” Abruptly, her small face zeroed in on Lydia’s feet. “Can I wear your shoes? I like sparkles. Mommy says they make girls look like ramps, but I don’t see how. My cousin, Kendall, has a ramp for his skates. But it don’t look nothing like sparkly shoes. So . . . can you please take them off now?”
Before Lydia could stop her head from spinning with all of the rapid-fire words coming from Casey’s mouth, the little girl had removed her own shiny black sandals and was tugging on Lydia’s. “Honey, maybe we should ask your dad first,” she managed to spit out. When Casey’s lip wobbled and she appeared on the verge of tears, Lydia stepped out of her shoes without another word of protest. “Okay, here you go, sweetheart. Do you need me to help you put them on?”
Casey gave her a sweet smile that no longer showed any trace of tears. Lydia was pretty sure she’d been hustled by a six-year-old. The little girl plopped on her bottom and preceded to push her tiny feet into Lydia’s shoes. She was grateful at least that they didn’t have any type of heel that would make them dangerous for her to wear. “You’ve got big feet,” Casey tossed out as she stood back up. Then she grabbed Lydia’s hand and began tugging her down the hallway. “Let’s go show Mommy my ramp shoes!” Resistance was futile at that point. Casey was hell-bent on finding her mother, and Lydia was very much afraid that she’d given Jake’s daughter a pair of tramp shoes to wear. What else could “ramp” mean? She knew darn well it wasn’t some skating reference.