Charade (A Fake Fiancée Romance) (Pretense and Promises Book 1) Page 10

  “I might have to hug you on occasion, too.”

  Oh, of course. Just because it had hit her wrong, she added, “Would you like me to fake a loud orgasm while I’m at it?”

  Brock was driving down a quiet road surrounded by evergreens. The valley was now shrouded in shadow, making Erica feel chilled to the bone. She was looking out of the passenger side window, but there was no mistaking the amused tone in his voice. “I wouldn’t advise that, unless you really do want me pouncing on you for real.”

  The fact that he found it funny made her smile. She turned her face to him and said, “If a voyeur is a peeping Tom who gets his jollies from watching people, what is the audio version of that?”

  “An audiophile? Is that it? Like a pedophile but a horny listener?”

  Erica started laughing. “You perv.”

  “I’m not actually just into the sound. It’s the overall package. You know, sight, sound, smell, touch.” He pulled his car into a quiet driveway just off the road, right in front of a garage door.

  “Taste.”

  He shut off the engine, enveloping them in sudden and complete silence.

  “I do best when all my senses are stimulated.”

  She tried to keep her cool but she suddenly felt warm all over. “I think we can all say that. We all, uh, enjoy ourselves more when we’re fully immersed.” Gripping the door handle, she pulled it open.

  “We should all be that fortunate to have that kind of lover.”

  In silence, they met at the trunk. Brock handed Erica her luggage and said, “Sorry. No warm welcome here like at your parents’.”

  “That’s okay. It’s cold out here. I’m sure they’re just wanting to stay warm.”

  His dry tone said it all. “Oh, I’m sure that’s it.”

  If Brock’s family was half as bad as he’d been making it sound, she was going to be miserable this entire time. Erica was grateful they’d be leaving Sunday morning—first thing if she had any say in the matter.

  Chapter Nine

  HE’D TRIED TO warn her. And now she was sitting on the edge of that queen-size bed acting sad and forlorn—and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  They’d walked inside the condo late in the afternoon. Elle and Bret were out doing something. Brandon, Lisa, and Saffy were eating dinner alone somewhere. His father was working on something (or at least that was what Brock’s mother said)—so much for being a vacation—and she was already snifting the brandy, so to speak. The remnants of an argument hung in the air like a lead balloon, so Brock kissed his mom on the cheek and then peeked in the study and said hello to his father before showing Erica the way up the stairs.

  “We should have stayed with your family, eh?”

  Erica was a trooper—Brock could appreciate that much. “It’s all right. Maybe I’ll just go to bed, if it’s all right with you.”

  “No. No, it’s not. You haven’t eaten since your tiny salad at Mario’s. We’ll walk through the village, hop on the bus, and we’ll have dinner some place. Everything will be decorated for Christmas and covered in snow. I promise you’ll love it.”

  Oh…maybe he was overselling it. He didn’t want Erica to know that if anything brought out the boy in him, it was the town of Vail. Yes, she was right in that it was a rich kid kind of place, but as a child, he hadn’t known that. He’d loved the cool, quiet summers there and the beginning of ski season—all the Christmas lights in town glittering against the snow.

  Although Erica arched a beautiful eyebrow, she paused, considering his words. “I guess that’s what your fiancée would do, isn’t it?”

  “My fiancée? Hell, yes.”

  She nodded, and he didn’t even care that the way her shoulders slumped communicated reluctance. “All right. Let me just change clothes.”

  “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

  “I want something warmer—a sweater and boots.” She held up a hand, fingers splayed. “Five minutes.”

  While it was a good idea that she be warm, he was itching to get out of the condo—no matter that they’d just arrived. The atmosphere was oppressive, negative…stifling. Somehow, it felt just a little more bearable with Erica in tow—but he wanted to save her from it, keep her happy. She was pure bliss to be around, even as feisty as she’d get, when she was enjoying herself. He hated seeing her reflection of the general mood of this place.

  They’d have enough to battle tomorrow. Tonight was theirs.

  A real fiancée would change her clothes in front of him with no qualms—but she wasn’t a real bride-to-be. And, much as he wanted to tell her how they’d follow through with his ruse, she was helping him, so he wanted her to have some say in the matter. “Do you want me to turn around or wait for you downstairs?”

  “You can just turn around while I put on this sweater,” she said, pulling a burgundy one out of her suitcase. “We don’t want to give them a reason to be suspicious, right?”

  He nodded and smiled, glad they were on the same page. He turned around and looked in the direction of the television. When they talked strategy over the next day, they’d have to turn it on. He didn’t think his parents would eavesdrop, but he’d put nothing past his brothers. Its noise should easily drown out a quiet conversation.

  Looking around, he noticed there was no furniture other than a wooden chair and desk. He supposed he’d be sleeping on the floor for two nights…unless he could talk Erica into sharing the bed.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  But first he had to help her fall in love with Vail. She loved her hometown Gunnison, so Vail should be easy.

  They bounded down the stairs and Brock said in the general direction of his parents, “I’ve got the keycard. We’re going out for dinner. Be back later.”

  He heard his mother say, “I think Brandon and Lisa are at—” but he closed the door quickly enough that he could honestly say he missed it. There would be no fucking running into his brother. They’d have to deal with him soon enough. For now, it was just him and Erica.

  Out of instinct, he was sure, Erica walked to the passenger side of his car, but he came up behind her, placing his hand on her back, and said, “Not taking the car. We have just a little way to walk to where the bus will pick us up.” He began to lead her in the right direction, his hand still on her back, and asked, “You okay with walking?”

  “Yeah, that’s okay.”

  “Do you jog?”

  Erica laughed. “Not if I can help it.”

  She wasn’t throwing his hand off, so he left it there. In case any family members saw them, they’d be convincing. “Well, if you decide to give it a try, there are some nice places to run here. I love jogging along the creek when I can.”

  “I don’t mind walking.”

  “Then maybe tomorrow morning I can slow down my jog and we can walk to Starbucks.”

  Even in the dusk, he could see her eyes light up—or maybe he was just imagining it. “You’re on.”

  “In the meantime, I’m going to take you to one of my favorite restaurants here.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll just have to wait. But what I like about this place is they’re really into serving local organic food. Ever eaten elk at a restaurant?”

  “What? Seriously?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No, I haven’t eaten elk at a restaurant—but I don’t think I want to.”

  “If they still have it on the menu, I recommend it.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “Fine. Will you have a bite of mine if I get it?”

  He could hear her sigh, but he could also see her breath rushing out in front of her, thanks to the cold air surrounding them. “All right. But please tell me they have some kind of chocolate for dessert.”

  “They should. Want me to check their menu on my phone?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Right up there—see?” He pointed to where he knew the bus would be stopping, and as if it arrived solely by
his thought, he heard it close. “Shit. Are you up to running?”

  “You really want me on the jogging bandwagon, don’t you?”

  He laughed. “No, but if we don’t hurry, we’ll have to wait for the next bus.” He wasn’t going to divulge to her that another one would probably arrive in twenty minutes, even if she felt warm. The restaurant wasn’t too far away if they needed to walk, but the bus was truly the way to go. “Race ya.” There wasn’t any snow on the sidewalk, so he wasn’t worried about sprinting in the dark. He glanced behind himself and saw that she wasn’t in any big hurry. “Come on, Erica. The bus’ll be here any second.” Facing her, he continued running backward.

  “Shit, Brock. You’re going to hurt yourself!” She started running then—at a decent clip even—and caught up with him. Once she caught up, he turned, grabbing her hand, and they raced the rest of the way together, just as the bus stopped and opened its doors for three people already standing and waiting.

  By the time the two of them boarded the bus, they were laughing. Finding a seat near the front, they sat down and he said, “See? You never know when that kind of training is going to come in handy.”

  She shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

  The lights on the bus dimmed. After a few seconds, he saw that she, too, was looking out the windshield. “See? Christmas lights and trees everywhere. Like the North Pole, eh?”

  Erica nodded and smiled but just kept looking. The driver stopped the bus again, letting on two people while the majority of the passengers that had already been onboard got off. “It is pretty,” she said.

  “Yeah. I knew you’d think so.”

  And either she hadn’t noticed or she didn’t care that his arm was around her shoulders…but he wasn’t removing it unless she told him to, because something about her seemed more like family than his own flesh and blood, and he was beginning to think he didn’t want to lose that feeling.

  * * *

  Dammit. Erica was way out of her element and she even felt underdressed, but she wasn’t going to complain. The creek side restaurant was indeed beautiful…but it felt way too high class for her. While she’d never felt inferior to wealthy people, she’d also never been comfortable around displays of luxury and riches—and this certainly was one. Yes, sure, they were serving “common” elk and trout on the menu, but those entrees didn’t come out on the plate like her mom would have made. The food here wasn’t what she was accustomed to. If, for instance, it wasn’t served with a demi glace, it had a reduction or a vinaigrette—and appearance was key, which was probably why all the servings of meat seemed to have little bunches of greens on top. The only time that happened in Erica’s world was when she ordered a cheeseburger and they put lettuce and tomato on it. And the portions here seemed skimpy. But she and Brock had an appetizer and some amazing wine to go with the meal, and she was feeling warm and just shy of giddy, in spite of being a fish out of water.

  When the waiter came by, he asked, “Can I interest you in some dessert?”

  Brock said, “I believe the lady would love something with chocolate.”

  “I have just the thing. And for you, sir?”

  He looked at Erica. “Want to share dessert?”

  Oh, did he look devilishly handsome right now. She’d share almost anything with that man at this moment. “As long as it’s chocolate, you bet.”

  Brock raised an eyebrow at the waiter, who nodded his head and whisked away to fetch it.

  “It’s too bad we’re here in the winter.”

  “Actually, we’re not, Brock. It’s still fall till next month.”

  “You know what I mean. The snow’s on the ground—feels like winter to me. But I’d love to take you to the Alpine Gardens. It’s a shame we won’t be together next summer or I would.”

  Erica frowned, because he was almost making it sound like they were really engaged.

  “But there’s a really cool skiing museum in town. If it’s open tomorrow, I could take you there.”

  She couldn’t help the scowl still plastered on her face. “Shouldn’t we be spending time with your family while we’re here?”

  “You tellin’ me you’re not sick of them already?”

  Forcing a smile as the waiter approached them, she said, “I don’t see them nearly as much as you do.”

  The waiter set the plate between them on the table, and it was indeed chocolatey. It looked like a brownie with caramel and chocolate drizzled over it, topped with whipped cream, much like how the mountains here were covered in snow. Erica began salivating as her eyes caressed it.

  “Enjoy.”

  “It’s a lot easier to avoid blowing our cover if we’re not in the condo.”

  She dug her fork into the side of the dessert, loading it up with a healthy amount of gooey chocolate goodness. “True, Brock, but I feel completely out of sorts here. The bus was the closest thing that felt normal to me, but even that couldn’t compare because it was free. I’m a stranger in a strange land here—in culture shock. Yes, the surroundings are lovely, but I still don’t get how felling dozens of trees so rich people can glide down a cold mountain trumps the beauty of nature unscathed. We’re deep in the Rockies, but there’s no sense of roughing it.”

  “You’re not supposed to be roughing it in Vail.”

  She sighed and closed her mouth over the fork. She shut her eyes, letting her taste buds take in the sensation of being jolted by chocolate and sugar. Mmm. It was amazing and helped her forget for five short seconds how she really did feel like the trout that had been on Brock’s plate—not just a fish out of water but completely fucked as well.

  Swallowing, she opened her eyes to see Brock tasting the dessert. “Yeah, that’s obvious.”

  “What can I do to make you feel better about being here?”

  If he’d been having a good time, she would have felt guilty about ruining it, but even though he loved the town, she knew he was miserable thanks to his family. What was saddest was they hadn’t seen anyone other than his parents today and that hardly even counted.

  At least they’d both be miserable. Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.

  * * *

  “Trust me. After a good night’s sleep, you’ll see this place in a whole new light.” Part of Brock wished he could understand how she felt, but he’d grown up this way. Nothing about the town or what Erica perceived as its wealth had ever bothered him, but it was getting under her skin. Maybe she misunderstood.

  But, as they walked toward the bus stop in the chill dark evening, he thought maybe he could see things a little through her eyes. Unlike, say, east Colfax Avenue, there was no hint of poverty or even struggle here—meaning she was right about one thing: Wealth kept this town going—so if the good citizens wanted a Starbucks latte, by God, they got one.

  She was missing the bigger picture, though, and it was that they were surrounded by natural beauty. Fine, if she hated looking at the slopes, she could look at the mountains on the other side of I-70, the ones where man had only built homes and roads but the majority of trees stood tall and proud.

  It inspired him. “Do you mind walking part of the way?”

  “No, that’s fine by me.”

  He led her down by the creek where they could walk toward the condos but along the creek trail. Again, man had tended the area to sculpture nature’s touch, but there was no denying the sound of the creek couldn’t be enhanced or destroyed by anything the architects here could do. There were trees and dirt and rocks and dormant plant life, and the creek flowed. It wasn’t so cold that it was iced over, so the babbling sounds were soothing.

  He hoped she felt the same way. “Step carefully. The light’s not that great here.”

  “The moonlight helps.” After a second, she added, “I think you knew exactly what I needed.”

  The air was brisk and the snow beside the trail glowed brightly under the rays of the moon. The only sound Brock could hear was the creek, and he imagined it was as soothing to Erica as it was to
him. Erica wandered off the path a bit to get closer to the creek. When she slipped a minute later, Brock reached out and pulled her up, close into his arms. Before he let her go, her body pressed into his, he said, “Maybe we’d better head back to the sidewalks.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  As they walked in silence until they were back in the village proper, with their hands in pockets to protect their fingers from the freezing air, he asked, “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “I didn’t think I would when I saw the tiny portions, but I’m pleasantly full. Not too much, though.”

  “Good. And we’ll exercise off any extra calories in the morning.”

  “You’re hell bent on getting me to run, aren’t you?”

  “Brisk walking would be fine.” Brock’s pace slowed. “Why don’t we wait for the bus here?” While he felt like the few minutes alongside the creek had been good for Erica, he was ready to get indoors—and he figured she might be even more so, especially because the boots she wore looked like they were more for fashion’s sake rather than warmth. But what did he know about women’s clothing?

  As the bus pulled up, he said, “We just need to make it through the next twenty-four hours. That’s all. Then we’re home free.”

  “Maybe you’ve forgotten about Christmas.”

  “Well…if the ink’s dry on the papers dad will draw up soon, we won’t have to worry about that.”

  But he had the sinking feeling that Erica might be right—and he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that.

  Only time would tell.

  * * *

  As Erica and Brock approached the house, she was beginning to realize something—something she’d never admit to Brock.

  The charms of Vail were beginning to get to her.

  She despised money. She hated sensing that its influence was all around her—and not just pocket change. There was serious wealth around her, and she was most certainly going to stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe as long as they mostly stayed in the condo tomorrow, she’d fare okay. Even though she didn’t feel at home with Brock’s family, she felt comfortable enough—and if they kept the conversations centered around topics she was familiar with, she would survive.