“Don’t worry about me. Eddie and I are going to get to know each other. Right, Eddie?”

Amy rushed over, looking a little panicked, which made no sense. “Edward, give the lovebirds a little room.”

Edward wasn’t smiling. In fact, his face was blotchy red and he turned and fled.

I tried not to smile but it was really hard.

Amy tugged on my hand. “Come on. Let’s have some fun.”

“Be right there,” I said.

After one glance toward Edward who was now waving down the bartender, she walked off. Thatcher set his hands on my shoulders and leaned down so he looked me straight in the eye. “You good?”

I nodded, clutching my wine glass. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he countered immediately.

I felt a rush of emotion, of pleasure, and not the sexual kind. Okay, that kind too, but I felt… protected. As if he was taking care of my problems for me. Or at least shielding me from them.

It was impossible to look anywhere but at those blue depths. “I’ve been thinking about that kiss,” he admitted, Edward forgotten.

That kiss. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I want another.”

My eyeballs flicked left and right as if watching a tennis match. “This isn’t exactly—”

He didn’t let me say more but took my mouth. It wasn’t a little peck, but full-on PDA most likely not seen in the country club. Ever.

His arms went around me, and I was tipped back. He grabbed the wine glass from me as his tongue met mine. The kiss didn’t last long, but he was thorough.

“You good?” he asked again when he set me back on my feet, this time for a completely different reason.

“Holy shit,” I muttered. My brain cells were scrambled. My nipples were trying to work their way out of my bra and dress to get to him and my pussy was wanting me to find the nearest service closet.

“Yeah, you’re one hell of a fake kisser,” he said. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Right,” I replied, remembering myself. “The fake boyfriend.”

“I’m not a good option, sweets. I’m headed to Mexico for the winter.”

His words were surprising, not only because they caught me off guard, but he was reminding me he was doing his job. Being a fake boyfriend and nothing more. But it felt like one hell of a real kiss.

“Right. Sure. Don’t worry. I know the deal. It’s all for show.”

As he stroked a hand down my hair, he added, “Watch out for those jello shots.”

He set my wine back in my hand and turned me around to face the women, who were openly staring. With a little pat on my bottom, he pushed me in their direction. When I glanced over my shoulder, he winked, then tipped his hat.

Fake boyfriend. Fake boyfriend.