I wasn’t getting serious with Astrid or any woman, not if I was leaving town. Hell, not if I was staying either. I didn’t do relationships and definitely not long distance. But she was sweet and she seemed as overloaded with work as me. She needed to have some fun at her sister’s wedding instead of it being a chore. For some reason, I wanted to have that fun with her. Besides, it was clear she needed a little help with her family.

“That’s what you’re here to ask, right?”

She licked her lips. “Yes. Mary, the woman who works with me, says I need a wingman.”

If Astrid’s mother put parameters around her love for her daughter like it sounded, then Astrid definitely needed backup. I didn’t know who Franklin Pierce was, but he wasn’t going to get anywhere near her. I doubted I could keep her mother away. That meant I’d have to stick close. Real close.

“I’ll be your date,” I said. “But a guy coming for the weekend is more than just a date.”

Her eyes widened and this close, I couldn’t miss how green they were. “You mean…”

I grinned. “Sweets, I’m your new fake boyfriend. And if we’re going to pull it off, we probably need to practice.”

“Practice?”

“Kissing.”

5

ASTRID

“Um… what?”

He took a step toward me. I stepped back. It was more the predatory, heated look in his eye that had me wary. He wanted to kiss me? Me?

The one with flour on her face, a raspberry stain on her shirt who blurted out stupid shit?

I retreated once more and bumped into the closed door. I wasn’t afraid of kissing him. The opposite, actually. What if I liked it? God, not if. Of course I’d like it. He leaned in, set his forearm beside my head. He was close, so close that every time I took a breath, my breasts brushed his chest. I had to tilt my chin back to look at him and what I saw…

Was he even real? There was something about a ginger, a guy with hair like his. Strands that curled. Untamed, just like Thatcher. His eyes were on mine, mesmerizing in how blue they were. How piercing. The whiskers on his square jaw were more auburn than red and I wondered if they were scratchy. His full lips kicked up at the corner.

“There’s no way in hell anyone would believe I’d be able to keep my hands off of you if you were mine.”

I blinked.

Thatcher Manning hit all the checkboxes.

Gorgeous. Yes.

Seemingly nice. Yes.

A dirty talker. Yes, in that breathy, I’m coming sort of way.

“Or my mouth.”

Oh my God.

“I love that you smell like sugar and vanilla. Do you taste just as sweet?”