THE FAKING PACT

BOOK 3: KNITTING CLUB GALS

GINGER LI

The Faking Pact

(c) 2023 by Ginger Li

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the author. Brief quotations may be used in articles or reviews. For permission requests, write to the author at ginger.li.writes@gmail.com.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any similarities or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

Editing by Liz the Error Eliminator

1st edition 2023

THANK YOU!

Dear Readers- Thank you for choosing this book. A portion of my profits will go to organizations dedicated to helping children.

Dear Early Readers and My Editor- Thank you so much for making this story shine.

Dear E, F, and M- You brighten my life with laughter, creativity, and love. Thank you for always being my number one fans. Also, E- thank you for letting me pick your brain about all things data-related.

ALSO BY GINGER LI

Knitting Club Gals Sweet Romance Series

The Dating Pact (Everly and Wyatt)

The Baking Pact (Joy and Aiden)*

The Faking Pact (Quinn and Ben)**

East Beach High Sweet Romance Series

XOXO, Piper (Book 1)

XOXO, Violet (Book 2)*

XOXO, Olivia (Book 3)**

* Violet is Joy’s niece.

** Quinn is Olivia’s older sister.

Light and Fire YA Fantasy Series

Half-Blood Mage (Book 1)

The Lady Thief (Book 2)

Haven of Smoke and Shadows (Book 3)

A Heart So Dark (Book 4)

Light and Fire Complete Boxset (Books 1-4)

CONTENTS

1.  Quinn

2.  Ben

3.  Quinn

4.  Quinn (Fifteen Months Ago)

5.  Ben (Same Night, Fifteen Months ago)

6.  Quinn (Current Day)

7.  Quinn (Same Night, Fifteen Months Ago)

8.  Quinn (Fifteen Months Ago)

9.  Quinn (Current Day)

10.  Ben (Current Day)

11.  Quinn (Fourteen Months Ago)

12.  Quinn (Current Day)

13.  Quinn (One Year Ago)

14.  Quinn (Current Day)

15.  Ben

16.  Quinn

17.  Ben

18.  Quinn

19.  Quinn

20.  Ben

21.  Quinn

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Also by Ginger Li

About the Author

1

QUINN

“Q uinn, wait up.”

I jerked away from the elevator door to see Steven, my forty-five-year-old boss, emerging from another elevator across the lobby.

Curse my love of mathematical modeling! I should have gone for my break an hour earlier, while Steven was in his two o’clock meeting, but I’d gotten so caught up in my latest project that I’d lost track of time.

My boss walked over to me, and I cringed inside. Now there was no way of avoiding him.

“I was just stepping outside for a coffee. Perhaps we could grab a drink together? I need to get my steps in.” He patted his trim midsection.

I arched an eyebrow. Frankly, I’d rather eat a dry-erase marker.

By all accounts, Steven was a decent-looking man. Fit from his daily gym sessions, he had peppered hair, tan skin, and broad shoulders that had most women taking an interest. But over my time working at M Studios, I’d noticed how he belittled my colleagues behind their backs and gradually lost all respect for him. I now tried to stay under his radar, something that had become increasingly difficult since rejecting him when he asked me out.

I peered around, hoping there might be someone else nearby to buffer our uncomfortable interactions. I didn’t necessarily get along with my other coworkers, but if someone else were around, then Steven and I wouldn’t have to be alone together. But it was three o’clock, too early to leave work and too late for lunch, which meant that besides Thomas behind the security desk, the lobby was empty.

Steven lowered his gaze, making me thankful I’d worn a turtleneck today. Spring in Southern California was typically warm, but after catching him trying to stare down my shirt during my first week at work, I’d decided that the less skin I showed, the better.

I adjusted my glasses and cleared my throat. His eyes snapped back to my face.

Gross. The guy didn’t even look guilty that I caught him in the act. I’d report him to HR, except his father was the CEO of M Studios and would never take my word over his only son’s. Gotta love the power of nepotism.

Steven adjusted the sleeves of his collared shirt, making sure to reveal his Cartier watch, and I inwardly eye-rolled at his flex.

“I’ve gone over those reports you ran and wanted to applaud you for your excellent work, Quinn. Perhaps we could discuss your models over dinner tonight. One-on-one.”

He took a step closer, which had my instincts screaming. Back off, buddy. How about no? I reached into my purse to grab my keys. Most likely, he wouldn’t try anything in public, but I took comfort in knowing I had this small bit of protection.

I gave him a tight smile. “Let’s discuss my models with the rest of the team. I’m sure they’d love to hear your thoughts as well.” Only three more months, and then I can finally leave this job. I’ll play nice until then.

Steven pouted in a way that he no doubt thought was sexy but, in reality, made him look like a sick platypus. “But the kudos belongs to you. I knew I made the right decision hiring you.”

My back teeth ached from all the clenching that I was doing. Yeah. My first job out of college, and I’d assumed he’d selected me because of my stellar grades and internships. Wrong. It turned out Steven had other priorities, judging by how he always came up with ways to compliment me and send not-so-subtle hints that he found me attractive.

“I should go,” I blurted out. “I’m meeting someone.”

His eyes widened. “Really? Who?”

A tall male strolled into the building, a green hoodie pulled up over his head. Based on his casual outfit, he probably worked for one of the startups on the second floor.

Bingo. Salvation came in the form of a tall stranger. As long as Mr. Green Hoodie wasn’t a murderer, he’d do. “Him. My boyfriend.” The lie rolled easily off my tongue.

“You have a boyfriend?”

I tried to ignore the obvious look of disbelief printed on Steven’s face. Sure, I may have let it slip once or twice that I hadn’t dated anyone in years. And maybe I had volunteered to come into work a few weekends to finish up various projects, but was it really that hard to believe that I was in a relationship?

“It’s a recent development.” As in, a few seconds ago. But my boss didn’t need to know that. I sprinted toward the stranger, who’d stopped to admire one of the paintings on the wall. I relaxed somewhat. My fake boyfriend had good taste in art, so he couldn’t be all that bad. I’d stood in that exact spot countless times before, admiring the artist’s bold brushstrokes.

“Wait, Quinn.” Steven followed me, whining the entire time. “We still need to talk.”

So much for his fancy MBA degree. Was the man truly that dense, or could he just not take a hint? I was literally running away from him. In heels, no less. I launched myself at Mr. Green Hoodie and grabbed hold of his muscular arm. “Listen. Can you do me a favor and pretend to be my boyfriend? I’ll explain everything afterward and I promise I’ll pay you back.”

There. I’d said it. A small voice whispered that I was making a mistake, but I ignored it. The guy would probably laugh at the whole situation and not ask for anything once I told him about my creepy boss.

Mr. Green Hoodie’s arm tensed for a second before he murmured, “Sure. I can do that.”

See? I was saved! After a rough week struggling to work out the kinks in my model, this was just the win that I needed. Steven would take the hint and leave me alone for the rest of the day. A bubble of hope rose inside me. Or maybe he’d leave me alone for the rest of my time at M Studios if he believed that I was seeing someone.

Why didn’t I get a fake boyfriend sooner? I was about to introduce my savior to my boss when Mr. Green Hoodie turned, revealing turquoise eyes framed by thick eyelashes, angular cheekbones that appeared to have been carved by the great artists themselves, and a sexy, lopsided smirk.

Ohnononono. This was a mistake. I dropped the man’s arm, wishing I could take back the last ten seconds of my life. You’ve heard that phrase, “Out of the frying pan and into the fire”? Well, I never quite appreciated it until I found myself staring into the piercing eyes of Benjamin Knight, the man who’d trampled my heart a year ago.

“N-never mind. I’ll handle this on my own.” I took a step backward, but Ben tugged me against his chest.

“Not so fast. We made a deal,” he whispered in my ear, and my heart, the Benedict Arnold that it was, melted. Ben’s lips captured mine, and the fresh scent of the woods and ocean filled my nostrils. His kiss was hungry and demanding, taking my mouth hostage; when it ended, my heart was racing, and I felt myself floating into space. Forget stars—I saw vast galaxies of constellations.

With a grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s, Ben addressed my boss. “Apologies, I just get so excited whenever I see my Quinnie Bear. You know how it is early on in a relationship. Every kiss feels like the first.”

What? Head out of the clouds, Quinn. Time to douse this fire.

Ben’s words brought me crashing back down to earth. I cringed at his nickname. Quinnie Bear? It made me sound like someone soft, someone who giggled incessantly and depended on their boyfriend to make all the tough decisions in life.

Newsflash. That wasn’t me. That wasn’t the independent woman I aspired to be.

“Quinn, why don’t you introduce us?” Ben murmured into my ear.

I could hear the smirk in his voice. He had me trapped and he knew it. Of all the men in Sunnyvale, why did it have to be Ben that showed up today? “Ben, this is Steven. My boss. Steven, this is my boyfriend.” I almost vomited in my mouth as I said the term.

Steven’s expression soured. “You’re dating him?”

No. Never.

“Lucked out big time, didn’t I? My Quinnie’s a real catch.” Ben held out his hand. “I can already tell she’s special. One day I’ll be putting a ring on her finger.”

The blood drained from my face. Putting a what… where? This couldn’t really be happening, this had to be a nightmare. I was asleep in my bed and needed to wake up. Now, before things got any worse. I pinched my arm hard and let out a yelp before coughing uncontrollably.

Code red. Code red. Definitely not a nightmare. This was really happening. Scientists have long believed human combustion is impossible. But judging by how my face was heating, I suspected I was about to prove them wrong, as I felt ready to burst into flames. And if that happened, I’d take Ben with me.

Ben’s hand rubbed slow circles on my back, each one adding more fuel to my internal fire. “That’s right, darling. Cat’s out of the bag. I want the whole world to know that I’m keeping you. Forever.”

I shot him a glare to tone down the lovey-dovey words, but Ben ignored me.

Steven’s eyebrows raised. He probably saw it as a loving interaction between boyfriend and girlfriend, but I knew what Ben was really doing: rubbing it in that I needed his help. It took all my self-control not to slap his big, warm hand away.

“How could this be?” Steven asked. “During your interview, you told me you were single.”

That was almost a year ago.

Ben abruptly stopped rubbing my back and now gripped my arm, like he was holding me back from doing something I’d regret. Such as making sure that my boss never reproduced.

Did you ask your male candidates that same question? That’s an HR violation. My relationship status shouldn’t have mattered, you sexist cretin.

M Studios was a complete bro-fest. Half of the employees were Steven’s fraternity brothers, and the other half were hired because they had similar arrogant personalities. As the youngest and only female member in the group, I already felt uncomfortable at some of the comments they made.

“We should get going,” Ben murmured as he guided me toward the front door. “Good to meet you, Stevie. I’ll be seeing you around.”

“It’s Steven, and we should still get together for coffee, Quinn,” my boss whined, but neither Ben nor I looked back as we left the building.

Three. Six. Nine. Twelve. I whispered multiples of three to myself as we walked along the street, my mind scrambling to make sense of the train wreck that had just occurred. Breathe, Quinn. Go to your happy place. Make order from the chaos. Create a pros and cons list.

Good idea. Time to use the tools my therapist gave me. On the pros side: Steven wouldn’t bother me anymore. Ben’s existence ensured that. So that should mean fewer awkward conversations with my boss.

Aaaaaand that was the only positive. However, on the cons side, I was now fake dating the one guy I’d sworn to never interact with again. And, knowing Ben, this favor wouldn’t come without a hefty price tag.

I closed my eyes for a beat and let out a breath. Perfect. You didn’t need my degree in mathematics to figure this one out. The numbers said it all. My hands trembling, I tore myself away from Ben. Stay calm. Years of etiquette training and private school prepared you for a situation such as this. Think your way out of the problem. Forget that you’ve just aligned yourself with the devil.

Two. Three. Five. Seven.

Never mind the prime numbers. “What was that?” I shrieked. “How could you say that I was your girlfriend?”

Oops. There went that cool demeanor I was trying to present.

Ben didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed up the sleeves of his hoodie, revealing the colorful arm tattoos I once drooled over. I swallowed hard, desire pooling low in my belly. Some women have a thing for abs. Others a thing for biceps. But me? Apparently, I was a forearm girl.

No. Look away. I refused to go down that rabbit hole again. Been there, done that, got the emotional scars and “I hate Benjamin Knight” T-shirt to prove it.

“Ever heard of method acting?” he purred and he continued to push his sleeves higher, as if he was purposely torturing me. “I was simply following your lead.”

How dare he turn this around on me! As if I’d asked for it.

Well, technically, I had. But under false pretenses. No way would I have begged for help if I had known it was Ben. I tugged at my sweater’s collar, wishing I could take it off. It was fine wearing something warm when I was in an air-conditioned building, but I was burning up under the bright California sun.

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing a sweater at work? Aren’t you hot? It’s March.”

I stopped fidgeting with my collar, not wanting to get into the issue of my boss’s pervy ways. “It’s chilly in the office. Besides, what I wear is none of your concern. Let’s get back to the matter at hand. We both know that I never would have asked for the favor if I’d realized it was you back there.”

He let out a dark chuckle. “Isn’t it lucky it was me instead of some stranger? Don’t worry, I thought I was pretty convincing, although we need to work on our chemistry. You sounded kind of shrill when you introduced me.”

Shrill? I internally shrieked a few choice words while fisting my hands at my sides. “Why are you so exasperating?”

“Why are you so amusing?”

“Don’t pretend to be the hero here. We both know you’re irksome and vile. Sometimes you’re so—”

“Handsome and kissable?”

I huffed. “Those were the last two adjectives I’d use to describe you.”

You sure about that? What about the kiss that just happened and his sexy forearms?

Well, to be completely truthful, Ben was not not hot…

Perfect. I was so flustered I was resorting to bad grammar.

A corner of Ben’s mouth lifted as if he could read my thoughts.

There had to be something seriously wrong with the man. Why else would he find such joy in provoking me? I fought the urge to stamp my feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum. It wasn’t worth ruining my favorite pair of heels over someone as inconsequential as him. I took a few deep breaths, centering myself before I spoke again. “What. Were you. Doing. In my. Building?”

“What’s. It. To. You?” He parroted back in the same stilted tone. “Did I interrupt your plans with another imaginary boyfriend? I’m hurt. Just how many of us are there?” He leaned closer as if we were two lovers sharing a secret, “Have you told Everly and the others about your harem?”

Fire scorched my veins, and I tore myself away. How dare he! “Don’t joke about my love life when it’s public knowledge that you’ve dated over half the women in town. That’s right. I’ve heard the rumors. I know all about you, you’re the town… floozy.”

Ben’s smile disappeared, and a hard glint appeared in his eyes. “What can I say? Is it my fault that everyone wants a piece of me?”

A spike of jealousy pierced my chest, but I schooled my features and leveled him with a stare. I was ice, cold and hard, immeasurably strong. Ben had no power over me. Not anymore.

The two of us stood toe to toe in the middle of downtown Sunnyvale, staring each other down. There might have been people around us, but honestly, I had no idea because I kept my eyes on Ben. Once upon a time, I’d have flinched under his blazing-hot stare, but I wasn’t the same naive girl I’d been in college.

Ben studied me, searching for my weaknesses, like a wolf eyeing its prey. Too bad for him; I no longer had any. It had taken months to harden my heart. Now, it was impenetrable.

“What is it now?” he taunted. “Embarrassed by our kiss? Well, don’t be. I’d say it was a five out of ten. Maybe a six. But with more practice, you could easily be an eight. That’s a B-.”

I barked out an angry laugh. Was he that full of himself? “Please. As if I care what you think. That was a one-off thing. Do me a favor, and let’s never mention this again.”

Ben’s grin returned. “Fine. I’ll keep it a secret.”

I gaped at him. The probability of Ben agreeing with me was zero, like getting both heads and tails when flipping a coin. Impossible. I frowned, unwilling to celebrate my victory quite yet. What was he up to now? This was too easy. He had to have a trick up his sleeve.

“If you want me to keep quiet about this, you owe me a favor in return.” He gave me a flinty look. “That makes a total of two favors owed.”

Of course he’d demand more. He always did. I gritted my teeth, running through the possible scenarios in my head. What sort of favors would he ask? Would he go the public humiliation route? I visualized myself standing outside his body shop as an advertisement, clad only in a bikini, and winced. I preferred to keep myself as covered as possible, thank you very much.

Maybe the favor would be even worse—he’d make me his personal slave. I’d have to clean his bathroom or do his laundry. If that were the case, I’d cut up his favorite pair of jeans and purposely mix together his lights and colors. The thought of turning his white shirts pink made me feel better.

“No, thanks. I’d rather take my chances and go out with Steven.” If Ben thought I’d agree to whatever horrible torture he had planned for me, he had another thing coming.

“Really? Let’s head back right now and tell good old Stevie just that.” Ben’s smirk said that he’d caught me in my lie.

Fine. There was no way I’d ever date my boss. Not only was it blurring lines at work, but Steven was a jerk.

“Time’s ticking, Quinnie. Do we have a deal? Or should I text my sister about what happened between us today?”

He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. My stomach flipped at the possibility. Everly was one of my best friends. She, Indie, and Joy probably would have laughed if I’d told them about the situation I currently found myself in. But that conversation might lead to other, more uncomfortable questions about my seedier past dealings with Ben.

“Fine. Two favors, and then we’re done.” I’d shut the door to our past ages ago. Locked, bolted it away. No one could ever discover what happened between us. Ever.

It would ruin me.

Ben grinned. “So glad we’ve reached an agreement. And guess what? It’s time to call in one of those favors. I need you to be my date for a wedding.”

The knot in my stomach eased. That was it? No skimpy swimming suits or dealing with a disgusting, moldy bathtub? “Done.”

I’d been to countless weddings in America and Korea and outmaneuvered dozens of opinionated relatives, insisting I needed to get serious about finding a boyfriend. My halmoni’s side of the family was particularly pushy. One time at my cousin’s wedding I was one of two unmarried females seated at a table full of single men. No relationships started from that awkward night, but I bonded with the other woman over our shared love of kimchi, expensive shoes, and K-pop.

If Ben thought attending an event with him would make me uncomfortable, he was wrong. I could wear a fancy dress and high heels with the best of them. We’d sit next to each other in silence for the entire evening.

“But that’s not the entire favor.” Ben slipped his long, tapered fingers into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a small black velvet jewelry box.

What was Ben doing with that? My heart pounded as he revealed the pear-shaped yellow diamond ring inside. “I need you to go as my fiancée. Marry me, Quinn Nari Mitchell.”

The ground swayed beneath my feet as I stared down at the gorgeous ring. Of course the favor wasn’t easy. With Ben, it never was.

2

BEN

Three long heartbeats passed as Quinn stood there, frozen. Not a scrap of emotion registered on her gorgeous, heart-shaped face except for the small crease above her perfectly arched eyebrows.

Bingo. I focused in on that tiny detail. That’s how I knew she was shaken.

My smile widened. This crazy proposition of mine might just work. Last night I decided to man up and talk to Quinn about being my date to the wedding. Good thing Sam was able to take over my place at the body shop today, because it took all morning to figure out the right words to say to convince her to come.

In the end, I’d decided on speaking with her at work, where she’d have no choice but to listen to my request. Every other time I’d messaged her in the past, she’d ignore me. But as soon as I stepped into the building, doubts began pouring in.

Would she laugh in my face? Most likely. Call the police? Possibly. Slap the ring out of my hand? Probably. But fate intervened in the form of her boss, and now, somehow, Quinn was on board.

Almost.

I’d thrown her for a loop. Caught her off guard. The woman was so scheduled that she had every single aspect of her life planned, from the food she ate daily to her ten-year career goals and her knitting projects. I’d bet she never saw this coming. That was one of my current joys in life: keeping Quinn on her toes.

I lifted the box higher. The way she stepped back, you’d think I held something radioactive. “In case you’re wondering, it’s a one-carat, pear-cut yellow diamond. Rose gold band. With diamond pave.”

Her midnight-black eyes met mine, glittering against her copper skin, and I could almost read her thoughts.

You remembered?

I smirked. Oh, princess, I remember it all. The night before things went nuclear between us might have been hazy in her mind, but it was crystal clear in mine, shaping me, directing every step of every day since. Our chance run-in changed everything, and when she stepped back into my life, I’d set my plan in motion.

In high school, I enjoyed running short sprints. But now? I preferred the long distances. Running wasn’t just a physical challenge for me, but a mental one too. And everything about my relationship with Quinn reflected that. My race to catch her was about to end; if I could just keep my focus on the finish line.

“The ring’s your favorite, isn’t it?” On your mark. Get set. Go. I held the box out further. “Go ahead. Try it on.”

Quinn’s uncertain look morphed into a steely glare. I called it the “I’m going to destroy you” look, which was slightly different from her “you’re annoying me” look. Both of which I had been the recipient of countless times.

What did you expect her to do? Scream like a fangirl at a boyband concert when she saw the ring?

Maybe just the tiniest bit.

“It was a favorite,” Quinn said. “But I haven’t given any thought to such things in ages.” She smoothed a hand down her long, black ponytail, her hair as sleek and shiny as a waterfall.

My fingers itched to reach out and feel those silky strands. But I restrained myself. Everything about Quinn was beautiful, alluring. Velvety-soft, tawny skin; large, wide-set, almost black eyes that crackled with whip-smart intelligence, and a smile that shone brighter than the diamond in my hand.

I licked my lower lip, still remembering the taste of her mouth. Quinn was my constant temptation. And losing her was my greatest regret.

“Fine. You might not have thought of this engagement ring in a long time, but you’re doing that dating pact with your knitting club, right?”

I know what you’re thinking. The words “knitting club” usually conjured up images of smiling, gray-haired women gossiping about neighbors and knitting itchy sweaters for their grandkids. But my sister Everly’s group was anything but that. Picture ladies’ night out meets geek chic and toss in a couple dozen freshly baked cookies and skeins of expensive yarn and you’ve got a good sense of how things ran. Five months ago, Ev, Indie, Joy, and Quinn formed a dating pact to help each other find boyfriends. It’d involved a séance and blood oath.

Allegedly. I wasn’t privy to the specific details.

Perhaps the four women had conjured up a bit of magic that night because not long after, Everly and Wyatt got engaged, and then Joy began dating my older brother, Aiden. Of course, I liked to believe that the second match resulted less from dark magic and more thanks to some friendly intervention by yours truly and Joy’s twin boys: Leo and Jasper (aka, the best first-grade wingmen a guy could ask for.) It was obvious to everyone that Aiden had built walls around his heart taller than sequoia trees, but Jasper and Leo worked their own special brand of magic, and now their mom and my brother had their happily ever after.

After years of seeing Aiden suffering from losing his fiancée and child, life was finally good. And with both siblings taken care of, I was willing to patiently await my turn and slowly begin rebuilding the trust between Quinn and me. But then a scented pink envelope arrived in the mail three weeks ago, shifting my long-term plan months ahead of schedule.

Funny how life-changing things often came wrapped in pink. The first time I saw Quinn she was wearing a pink dress.

Lacey and Anderson are betting on each other and invite you to join them to celebrate their wedding in Las Vegas. Come watch them get lucky in love!

THERE WAS a handwritten note at the bottom below the wedding details:

DEAREST BEN, I know this is last minute, but I need you there. Will you stand by my side and be my bridesman? Love, Lacey.

THIS WAS a sign from Cupid himself. A wedding? In Vegas? A plan quickly emerged in my mind. Even though I’d purposely kept my distance from Lacey and Anderson after I’d moved out of the apartment Anderson and I once shared, I did the unthinkable. I RSVP’d that I’d attend. With my fiancée. Because if I was going to get Quinn to agree to my harebrained scheme, I wanted to make it clear to everyone at the wedding that she was mine.

Possessive much?

You bet. Weddings were notorious for being great places to pick up women. When it came to Quinn, I wasn’t taking any chances that some Ivy League joker would come in and sweep her off her feet.

“Well?” I growled, already imagining the men I’d probably have to warn off at the wedding, “Do we have a deal?”

“I go to this event with you as your…”

“Fiancée. Go on, say it. It’s not a dirty word.”

She gave me a look that said she wanted to stab me with her heels, but then pursed her lips and forced out the words, “F-fiancée, and then we’re done. No more favors.”

Despite the blazing bonfire of hatred in her gaze, I couldn’t help but feel I’d won. I’d take Angry Quinn over Indifferent Quinn any day. Angry Quinn saw me and our past; Indifferent Quinn acted as if I didn’t matter, which stung even more.

“There’s a couple more things I forgot to mention.” Now that she’d agreed to come to the wedding, time to toss another log onto the fire. “I’m Lacey’s bridesman, so I have to be there for the rehearsal dinner.”

Quinn’s eyebrow arched. “Bridesman? As in you stand on the bride’s side?”

“We were close friends for years.” Until she started dating Anderson. But I didn’t add that fun fact in. No need to overwhelm Quinn with the specifics of Lacey and Anderson’s rocky relationship. “Also, the wedding’s out of state. And it’s this weekend.”

Quinn’s mouth fell open. “You ask me to be your date now?”

I’d expected this. Quinn preferred having her ducks all in a neat row. Surprise weekend trip? That was akin to throwing a bomb into the middle of her perfectly scheduled life.

Boom, baby, boom.

I chuckled. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.” Plus, it had taken some time to find the perfect ring. “Come on, Quinnie. We’ll drive down together Thursday night and back again on Monday. You’ll only miss two days of work. I’ll bet you have more PTO than you know what to do with.”

“It’s Quinn. And you’re right,” she muttered, pacing. “Still, that’s hardly enough time to tell my boss about missing work. I’m in the middle of an important project at the moment. Steven’s finally trusting me with the lead.” Her expression sobered and my annoyance rose.

I’d overheard the way he spoke to her, obviously angling for a date and ignoring how she rebuffed him at every turn. The thought of her spending eight hours a day near that creep made me furious. Steven was a well-groomed predator: smiling in the front, blade in the back. And I’d bet money that wasn’t the first time he’d tried to force Quinn to go out with him.

Well, the guy better back off now, because she was taken.

“Come to the wedding with me. Pretend to be my fiancée. Just wear the ring until then, and after the wedding, our arrangement’s done. You won’t owe me any more favors.”

“No,” she countered. “I’ll wear the ring while I’m at the wedding.”

I shook my head, remembering Steven’s possessiveness. Even when Quinn introduced me as her boyfriend, he still wanted to get coffee with her.

“No deal. You wear the ring now to get used to it. If you’re worried about Ev finding out, don’t wear it when you see her or your other knitting club friends. Just do me this one small favor, and I promise I’ll never bother you again.” Those last few words slipped out before I realized what was on the line. What if my plan failed? Could I really let Quinn go for good?

Her brow furrowed, and I could see the gears turning in her head. “Alright, you have yourself a deal.”

“Then we’re in agreement,” I added, not wanting to give her a chance to escape. I removed the ring from the box. “Quinn, will you marry me?” I murmured the sacred words, hoping she could see the sincerity in my heart.

“Fake marry,” Quinn reminded me with a scowl.

As I slid the ring on, my fingertips brushed against her palm, and she tore her hand from mine, as though my touch burned her. I tried to ignore the doubt creeping in.

My plan would work. It had to.

Quinn stared at the ring, twisting it around and around her finger. “I have two questions about our arrangement.”

“Go for it.”

“First question: why me? Why not ask one of your girls?”

My shoulders tensed, but I purposely kept my tone light. “They were all busy.” With their boyfriends and husbands.

Her scowl deepened, as though she didn’t believe me. It tore me up that Quinn still thought I’d lied to her after all this time. This massive misunderstanding should have been cleared up months ago, but it took time tying up loose ends. I had to keep up the secrecy for just a little bit longer.

“Question two—where’s this wedding being held?”

This was it. Time to drop the final bomb. “Las Vegas.”

Four. Three. Two. One.

“V-Vegas?” Quinn almost choked on the word.

Yes. That Lacey and Anderson’s wedding was taking place in the same location as Quinn and my own disastrous affair wasn’t lost on me either.

“Don’t worry. As they say, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Mostly. The only person that knew what happened between us was Sam. But the man was like a father to me. I trusted him to keep our secret.

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, looking like she was about to start an argument again. I prepared myself for a fight, but a second later, that infuriating stony mask returned, the one that said I didn’t matter to her. “Fine. Pick me up from my place Thursday night.” And, with a swish of hair, she left.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number: It’s Cece. I got your name from Jillian. Are you free for dinner this Saturday?

Me: Sorry. I don’t do that anymore.

AFTER A PAUSE, I added:

Me: I’m engaged now.

I LOVED the way those words looked on my screen.

Unknown number: Right.

Unknown number: Text me if you’re ever free.

3

QUINN

“That’s a nice sweater. Cream’s a lovely color on you.” Mom ate a mouthful of her asparagus salad before sipping her wine.

“Thank you.” I took a perfunctory bite of my salmon but found it sat heavily in my stomach. Since I lived only one town away from my childhood home of Mermaid Cove, Mom and I met weekly for dinner. Tonight, we were at Rocco’s, my favorite Italian restaurant. By this point of the meal, I’d typically be telling Mom about the projects I was currently involved in at work. But today, my thoughts remained laser-focused on what happened earlier.

Ben asked me to marry him. And I agreed.

My fork slipped from my fingers and clattered on my plate.

But not for real.

Mom looked up, her eyebrows raised. “You haven’t eaten very much. Is the salmon not to your liking?” She swept her gaze over me, scanning my face the way all moms do to figure out what’s wrong. Nothing escaped her eagle eyes. “Are you sick? Or are you worried you won’t get the lead you wanted on that dating app project?”

“No. I got the lead. I’m presenting my analysis tomorrow, in fact.” That was what Steven wanted to discuss earlier—before Ben showed up.

Mom beamed. “That’s wonderful. Why so worried, then?”

Because I’d made the uncharacteristically rash decision of asking Ben for help and now found myself stuck in the situation of my nightmares. Fake engaged to a man I hate? Forced to spend time with him all weekend? What choice did I have? It was either do Ben a favor, run back to Steven, or have Ben tell his sister everything. Option two repulsed me on multiple levels and option three terrified me. Having one of my best friends find out the truth about my relationship with her older brother? No, thank you. Ev, Indie, and Joy would never look at me the same way again.

“Is it an issue at work?” Mom asked. “You can always quit and come work for me. There’s always a spot for ambitious graduates such as yourself.”

For the longest time, her dream was for me to become a lawyer. When I decided not to attend law school this past fall, Mom’s dream changed to me coming to work with her as a business consultant. But I refused to rely on my family ties to find a job. As the famous Imani Mitchell’s daughter, I was leery of relying on her name to get places in life. I wanted to forge my own path instead.

Our server walked by and asked if we needed anything else.

“No, thank you. The meal is delicious, as always.” Mom smiled at him, and the man blushed before walking away, almost tripping over his own feet.

Poor guy. Despite giving up her modeling career almost twenty years ago, Mom was still stunning. She was half-Black, half-Korean and with her striking features, he didn’t stand a chance. People often said that I resembled her, with my long black hair, slim build, and dark eyes, but I never quite felt I measured up. Mom was effortlessly graceful, while I was more like a little girl playing dress-up.

I sat a little taller and tried not to look at my empty ring finger. Ben’s engagement ring was now in the glove compartment, hidden behind my car manual, yet I could still sense its phantom presence. When had he purchased it? He must have really wanted to sell our relationship. Even now, I could still picture how stunning it looked, which irritated me even more.

What was I? Some 1950s woman who dreamed of being Ben’s little lady? Certainly not. I had goals to accomplish. On my own.

“Work’s fine. I’m just dealing with a personal matter. But I’ll handle it. As I always do.”

Mom’s expression softened. “Is there something you want to talk about? I realize that you and Olivia haven’t felt comfortable sharing your problems with me in the past, but I hope you’d be more open now. I’m trying my best to change.”

“Yes, I know.” Mom had accepted my younger sister’s decision to pursue a music degree in college, but there was no way I could tell her about my arrangement with Ben. She’d be so disappointed that I’d turned to him for help and gotten myself stuck in this awful mess.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it handled.”

Olivia was the bubbly, creative daughter. Meanwhile, I cocooned myself in my schedules and spreadsheets. I’d get through this whole Ben situation because that’s who I was—serious, practical, responsible Quinn.

“I’m pleased to report that things are on track for the hospital’s fundraiser as well,” I said, trying to change the topic. “The caterers sent through the final menus for approval, and they’re perfect.” That had been an ordeal and a half, finding a company that would accommodate all our guests’ dietary requirements. “The 3D model of the new building expansion and all the patients’ photographs are ready too. I sourced a local company who’ll print them both and deliver them.”

Sunnyvale Hospital was running a capital campaign to expand its cancer wing to include a hundred extra inpatient beds, a handful of new operating rooms, and several more imaging and diagnostic rooms. After my halmoni passed away from an aggressive form of breast cancer four years ago, Mom started helping with their annual fundraiser. While I’d attended the black-tie event several times in the past, this year, I’d stepped in to help her plan it.

“Wonderful. I was going through the RSVPs and noticed you still hadn’t given me a name for your date.” Mom peered at me, a shrewd look in her eye. “Who are you bringing to the event?”

“A few friends.” Everly, Indie, and Joy had all said they’d come.

“Are you sure about that? We’ve donated enough to fill a table. How about I find you a date? I have plenty of friends with single sons. Remember Virginia’s son, Tyson? He’s still available.”

Or so his mother thought. I happened to know that Tyson was secretly dating someone but hadn’t introduced his new girlfriend to his mother because he was worried she’d disapprove. “Tyson and I wouldn’t get along. Our personalities aren’t compatible.”

My mother took another sip of wine and frowned. “What about Antonia’s son, Beau? He’s very handsome, as I recall. Also, he’s a plastic surgeon. You wouldn’t have to pay for any procedures if you went out with him. Not that you need any work done, of course. You are perfect just the way you are.”

Date someone whose job it was to notice every flaw in my appearance? No, thank you. I’d struggled with perfectionism throughout my life and didn’t need anybody sending me straight back to therapy. “I’ll pass. Beau also isn’t my type.”

“Over six feet tall, handsome, with a good head of hair, and a doctor?” Mom chuckled dryly. “Please, Beau’s every woman’s type.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve met him at parties before. We have nothing to talk about. Why are you pushing this? What happened to you telling me not to date anyone and concentrate on my studies and getting a job?”

“Darling, that’s when you were still in school. Now that you’ve graduated and are working, you should loosen up a little. Have some fun.”

I don’t think she’d ever encouraged me to “loosen up” before. “Be more like Olivia, you mean?” My younger sister was having the time of her life since transferring to the college her boyfriend, Micah, attended. Whenever she texted, it was always to share about some new restaurant they’d tried or a venue she’d played at. In college, I’d spent most of my time outside of classes in the library. I couldn’t help but wonder when she even found the time to attend her classes.

Mom gave me a tired smile. “Maybe not quite as much as Olivia. I worry about you. I don’t want you to end up at the top of your game but without someone by your side.”

Was that really such a bad thing? I had my friends. I wasn’t completely alone. “Why do I have to be coupled? Can’t I just live my life happily as a single woman? That’s what you did,” I said, turning the tables on her. After our dad left, Mom gave up modeling and put all her efforts into raising children and starting her own consulting business. She told us countless times that being a single parent drove her to succeed.

“Actually, about that.” She downed her glass of wine before continuing. “I’m seeing someone.”

The news took me by surprise. “Who is it? Does Olivia know?”

Mom shook her head and giggled. Giggled! The sound was completely foreign to me. “No. It’s new. And we’re taking it slow. Nothing too serious. We’re enjoying getting to know each other.”

Who was this blushing woman? There was a playfulness in her eyes that I’d rarely, if ever, seen.

“I want you to meet someone special too, Quinn. Don’t repeat my mistakes and shut yourself off to love.”

Too late. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in love. On a scientific level, I understood it resulted when chemicals flooded our brains to produce certain physical and emotional responses. And I’d witnessed it in the real world, having a front-row seat to my two best friends’ relationships. However, falling in love required being vulnerable and opening yourself up to getting hurt.

And I refused to let that happen again.

Mom gave a sigh, and I, being the people-pleaser that I was, buckled. I hated how disappointed she sounded. “Alright. Since I’m not bringing a date, you’re welcome to introduce me to someone that night. If we’re compatible in temperament, education, and ambitions, then I’ll give him a shot.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being logical.”

“It sounds like you’re seeking companionship by reading facts from a psychology textbook.”

“You’re right on that point. I learned all about assortative mating in senior psych. People tend to choose partners who are similar to them.” If only I had taken that lesson to heart when I first met Ben.

Mom’s eyes twinkled. “Forget what the books say. Real life doesn’t work that way. Sometimes love comes in the form of something unexpected, and it’s up to you to forget what your brain says and follow your heart.”

Follow the whims of the organ that pumped blood instead of the organ that was the source of all rational thought?

Please. Now who was being ridiculous? If I ever dated someone, he’d be like me. Logical and dependable. Spontaneity and romance were traits lauded by poets and novelists. There’d be no surprise adventures in my future.

Well, no more after dealing with this whole Ben fiasco, that was.

4

QUINN (FIFTEEN MONTHS AGO)

Why does every nightclub resemble a dark, crowded cave, have sticky floors, and reek of middle-school locker room and incense? And why do DJs always choose music with exponentially loud drumbeats coupled with string after string of questionable lyrics?

The thumping bass pounded in my head, like a construction worker sledgehammering my brain. I craned my neck and ran my gaze across the sea of swaying bodies, trying to spot a face in the crowd that should have been as familiar to me as my own. According to his last text, he’d be six foot four with tan skin, wearing a purple T-shirt and jeans, and have an earring in his left ear.

Amidst the sweaty, gyrating bodies, no one fit that description.

Great. He was an hour late. To someone like me, who’d arrived half an hour early to get a feel for the location, that was equivalent to being two years late. Or, in this case, twenty-one years too late. Guess I hadn’t got my punctuality from good old dad.

I eyed my phone, but besides messages from Olivia asking how Las Vegas was going, there was nothing. I texted the number he’d given me again and waited. Maybe something had happened to his car. Perhaps he was running an errand that took longer than expected. Of all the scenarios I’d run through my head about how this might go, this wasn’t one of them.

Of course, when we first arranged this meetup, I’d briefly daydreamed that he’d show up similar to a knight in shining armor. He’d graciously apologize for missing Olivia’s and my entire childhood before begging for forgiveness. But once those few minutes of Disney dreams faded, I’d thought I had pretty standard expectations.

Sure, there were bound to be awkward conversations about Mom and all the milestones he’d missed. And I’d steeled myself to see some jealousy-inducing photos of him with his new family. But I was determined to meet step-siblings and make this work. I’d even come up with the perfect response for when he apologized for being a deadbeat father.

I forgive you for not being there. Less than ten percent of mammals pair up to raise their young. So you’re in good company.

Who was I kidding? My hopes faded with each passing second. I’d never have the opportunity to use that line now. I took a sip of my beer, and forced myself to swallow the disgusting warm beverage. The man hadn’t seen me since I was five. Hadn’t sent any birthday cards. Hadn’t called to hear our voices. Hadn’t paid Mom a single dollar of child support. He’d just up and disappeared from our lives.

What had I expected? That he’d change? That he’d finally step up and be a father?

People didn’t change. Period.

I never should have made the trip to Vegas. This entire weekend had been a series of bad decisions. Search for the guy who married your mother and then left her to pursue his dream of being a musician? Mistake number one. Agree to meet at his place of work, which happened to be the current cave-like club playing headache-inducing music? Mistake number two. Good old dad hadn’t worked here for months.

Send your father a thousand dollars of hard-earned internship money two days prior because an issue came up with his plumbing? Mistake number three. Wear a pink dress for said father because you wanted to look nice when meeting him? Mistake number four. I only owned this dress because Olivia said it looked good on me. I hated pink.

I downed the rest of my drink and almost gagged, feeling slightly lightheaded. Add the decision to skip lunch to my long list of mistakes because I was starting to feel the alcohol’s effects.

Mistake number five?

Or was it six?

Never mind. I’d do the math later. That was enough negative thinking. On the positive side, I’d done the right thing by not telling my sister or mom the real reason for my impromptu trip.

Is that really a positive thing? What if something happens to you? Your family will have no idea where you actually are.

Shhh, I hissed at my conscience. Thankfully, she was getting easier to ignore with each passing minute.

It was a positive, of course. Mom would have tried to talk me out of meeting Dad. She gave up on him when he left and had been very vocal about us not needing a man in our lives. And I definitely shouldn’t have told Olivia because she would have insisted on coming with me, and then gotten her hopes dashed when we realized our father truly was the loser my mother said he was.

A tear trailed down my face, and I swiped it away. No. The man wasn’t as bad as my mother said. He was worse.

Another tear slid down my cheek, and I dabbed at my face with my crumpled napkin. Perfect. Now I was ruining my makeup.

Ugh. I hated this. I was the one with the checklist: Locate Dad. Lie to my family about my winter break plans. Travel to Las Vegas. Check, check, and check. Meet Dad. Not check.

That unmarked box stood out glaringly, much like a misplaced apostrophe or people who drove faster than the speed limit. Just don’t do it, folks!

My stomach let out a long and irritated rumble. No wonder I felt so grumpy. I was hangry. I’d only eaten a sandwich on the airplane before this because I was so nervous. After closing my tab, I slipped by the sweaty, swaying bodies and headed into a quieter sports bar next door, thankful that they weren’t blasting their music at hearing-loss decibel levels.

“What can I get you, hon?” the bartender, a bald man with a mustache large enough to make an old-time villain jealous, asked.

“Did you know that handlebar mustaches were quite the rage for cowboys in the Wild West as well as with European soldiers during the nineteenth century?” I resisted the urge to reach over and twiddle his facial hair. That was probably the alcohol’s influence, I suspected.

His eyebrows rose, like two fuzzy caterpillars pulled by an invisible fishing line.

Oops, there went my squirrel brain again. Olivia often joked that my mind worked like a frenzied squirrel gathering nuts for winter. But I couldn’t help it—I had a knack for memorizing obscure facts and storing them away until they popped up at awkward times such as this.

I glanced down at the sticky, plastic-coated menu. “Can I have the double burger, please?” Which some believe was first served by Bob’s Big Boy in 1937 and then later popularized by McDonald’s and In-N-Out.

Phew. I was tipsy, but not thaaat drunk. I still had the ability to hold that last fun fact in.

Mr. Mustache eyed me up and down. “You sure? That’s a lot of meal for a slender thing like yourself.”

I snorted in the most unladylike fashion, and I could almost hear my mother’s voice in my head. Honestly, what did all that time spent in etiquette class teach you?

Abso-freaking-lutely nothing. That knowledge disappeared. Poof. Much like my deadbeat dad.

Not about to let another man ruin my night, I leaned in and stared Mr. Mustache straight in the… mustache. Just because I happened to be slim, people assumed I lived like a fairy: sustained only by morning dew and air. Sorry, but that wasn’t how human bodies worked.

“Listen. I get it. I’m thin. But I didn’t have lunch, and I have a fast metabolism. I’ll be fine.” Even on my best days, I wasn’t a salad kind of girl. I enjoyed eating, and thanks to Mom’s good genes, I could get away with it.

And what had I gotten from my father? Twenty-three X chromosomes, a hefty withdrawal from my savings account, a bunch of trust issues when it came to men, and my first trip to Vegas.

Thanks, Dad.

“Suit yourself.” The bartender shrugged. “One double dandy burger coming up.”

“And a tall glass of water, please.” I slammed on the bar counter like I was a cowboy ordering drinks at an old-timey saloon. The time for making mistakes was over. Irresponsible Quinn had got us into this predicament. Responsible Quinn would get us out. Which meant high-caloric food and water. My phone buzzed in my bag, and I scrambled to pull it out.

An hour had passed since my last entry. I clicked on the happiness app I’d created.

Mood Level? Extremely poor. I rated it zero and debated adjusting the scale to include negative numbers because I felt awful.

Reason? I typed in my answer: Father didn’t show up to meeting.

Opportunities for improving my mood? Well, that was a doozy of a question. Nothing would make this night okay. But a meal and a good night’s sleep couldn’t hurt. I typed in my thoughts and closed the app.

It might be winter break, but I still had assignments to complete. For my final project in psychology, I’d charted my moods for the past month, every waking hour, using an app I’d created. We were currently studying emotional psychology, and instead of writing a paper summarizing others’ research, I’d gone one step further and conducted my own case study, examining the causes and effects of my changing emotions.

Was collecting data this frequently annoying?

Yes indeed! But knowledge was power and data was the new currency. After taking an introductory stats course freshman year, I realized that data was queen, and I became her loyal subject. Order. Logic. Patterns. Predictions. There were few things sweeter to me than an Excel spreadsheet and a powerful programming language.

I checked my phone—no new messages—then slid it back into my bag and scanned the room. People here seemed more civilized than in the club next door. They weren’t dancing on the tables or taking shots; they were eating food and chatting quietly. And the place smelled like greasy fries and beer, which was a whole lot better than Axe body spray and frankincense.

My gaze fell on two men seated at a table a few feet away. Even in a room filled with customers, it was hard not to notice them. Both were tall with broad shoulders. The one who looked like a Hemsworth brother ran a hand through his brown hair, looking annoyed.

Hmm. Someone else was having a bad day as well. Feeling a sense of camaraderie, I leaned in a little closer, trying to catch what he was saying.

“This was a bad idea, Ben. I never should have come to Vegas. This trip isn’t helping.” He gave a frustrated sigh. “None of this makes me forget her. I still miss Caroline.”

“You haven’t given this trip a chance, Aiden.” The taller, blond one—Ben, I assumed—placed a hand on Aiden’s shoulder and murmured something in his ear.

The two seemed close. Ben and Aiden. Were they friends? Or brothers?

Aiden’s brow furrowed more as he shook off Ben’s hand. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not like you.”

Ben shrugged before leaning back in his chair and studying the room. With his long limbs sprawled out, he reminded me of a jungle cat: lean and stealthy. On the outside, he calmly took in his surroundings, but on the inside, he was hunting, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on unsuspecting prey. But who would that be? Curious, I continued watching as Ben took a sip of his beer before turning his head ever so slightly until he stared directly. At. Me.

Electricity zapped across my skin. Oh no. I was his prey. The corner of Ben’s mouth tilted upward as he raised a hand and waved. I whipped my head back around to face the bar, my heart pounding a thousand miles an hour as I pretended to be very busy searching for something in my purse. When was Mr. Handlebar Mustache coming back? I needed to get out of here asap.

I didn’t know Ben, but I’d had a decade to learn his type: guys born with looks so lethal and personalities so selfish that they believed the whole world revolved around them. They were everywhere at my high school, dating a string of women, not caring that they left a trail of broken hearts in their wake. Because they had everything—money, looks, and connections—they viewed women as dispensable arm candy. Like phones easily tossed out to upgrade to the latest model.

“I’m heading back to the room,” I overheard Aiden say. “Don’t get into any trouble, Ben. And for goodness’ sake, don’t bring someone back to our suite tonight.”

See? I was right. Ben was a capital P Player, and I was capital O Out of there.

Zero. One. One. Two. Three. Five. Eight. I whispered the Fibonacci sequence under my breath, searching for calmness in the numbers’ predictable progression.

“Your burger, miss.”

About time, Mustachio. Let’s wrap it up so I can get out of here. As I opened my mouth to tell him I’d changed my mind and wanted my meal to go, I sensed someone hovering behind me.

“Care for some company?”

My shoulders tensed. He’d caught me. I turned and was surprised to see not Ben but another blond-haired man. Dressed in a fitted button-down shirt that was way too shiny to have ever been considered fashionable, the stranger stuck his hands in his pants pockets and smirked at me. The man was also good-looking, but his arrogant expression made me cautious.

I adjusted my glasses, giving him my best leave-me-alone look. “Sorry. I’m dining alone tonight.”

“But you don’t have to.” He laughed while he openly ogled my chest.

Could he be any more obvious?

“I was sitting across the room and thought to myself that it’s a pity a gorgeous woman like you has no one to eat with.”

“No, thank you,” I repeated, a little louder this time. His eyes snapped up to mine. “I’d prefer to eat alone,” I emphasized.

“Come on. Don’t be like that.” He reached out to touch my shoulder, and I slapped his hand away so hard that it knocked over my cup and sent it crashing to the floor. Water splashed onto the bottom half of my dress and across his jeans.

“Look what you did.” The guy’s face flushed an angry red. “I was just trying to be nice, and you ruined my pants.”

That was a bit dramatic. “It’s only water. They’ll dry. And I never gave you permission to touch me.” I stood. Because of my height, I locked gazes with him.

“You’re a lot less pretty when you open that mouth of yours.”

Excuse me? He was one to talk, considering the ugly words coming from his mouth. Just as I was about to give this Neanderthal a piece of my mind, someone behind me asked, “Are you bothering my girlfriend?”

Was it the night of boundary-pushing buffoons? I turned around to inform Mr. Never-going-to-be-my-boyfriend that he also needed to back off but found myself momentarily speechless when I encountered a pair of blue-green eyes. All words evaporated from my mind.

Up close, Ben was even more handsome than I’d realized, with high cheekbones and lips that looked oh-so-kissably soft. His eyes were the perfect mixture of blue and green. They reminded me of the trip I took with Mom and Olivia to Hawaii last summer. The water there was that same gorgeous shade of turquoise.

My fight or flight instinct kicked in. The jungle cat had caught me. And I was about to be mauled to death.

A vision of Ben’s muscular arms surrounding me flashed through my mind, his fingers tangled in my hair, and I paused.

Honestly, would that be such a bad way to go?

Ben arched a brow. “Is this guy bothering you, baby?”

That snapped me out of whatever trance his good looks had put me in. Why did all men think that women were infantile and needed to be taken care of? “The name’s Quinn. And I’m not anyone’s baby.”

Mr. Shiny Shirt let out a low whistle and took a step forward. “No kidding. You sure look all grown up to me.”

Before I’d even registered that he’d moved, Ben was at my side, holding the jerk’s arm, stopping him from touching me again. I swallowed hard, just now noticing the swirling, colorful tattoos covering his right arm. There was a ship, an octopus, an ocean wave… and a whole lot of yummy exposed golden skin.

No! What was I doing, checking out a stranger like that? Mental note—beer makes me gaga for forearms.

Mr. Shiny Shirt tried to shake off Ben’s hand, his face growing redder by the second. “Let go. Get your hands off of me.”

“Doesn’t feel so good to be touched without consent, does it?” Ben asked. “Quinnie didn’t ask for you to touch her either.”

I gritted my teeth, all thoughts of Ben’s sexy forearms evaporating. Quinnie? Another infantile nickname? I glared at Ben, but he just smirked in response. Seriously? It was as if the guy was trying to get under my skin.

“Fine,” the stranger huffed. Ben let go of his arm and the man turned on his heel and stormed away.

The bartender came over to mop up the floor around us, not seeming to care that we’d just created a scene. I sat back on my stool, hoping that Ben would take the hint and leave. Instead, he slid into the seat beside mine.

“You didn’t need to step in,” I murmured, avoiding looking in Ben’s direction. “No one asked for your help. I had the situation covered.”

“I figured you did. But I came over to provide backup, just in case. You know, some would say that I acted very gentlemanly in the situation. They might even go so far as to thank me for my help.” Surprised, I turned to him and Ben flashed a boyish grin, and my stomach, which apparently agreed with him, did a gold medal–worthy double backflip.

But I refused to be won over so easily. “I’d have thanked you if I had needed your help. Just so you know, I’m not some damsel in distress. I’ve taken a few self-defense classes.” I had to when there were several muggings on campus last year. No way would I be a victim. “Perhaps you’re not aware, but women don’t need men to save them.”

Ben remained silent, as if mulling over my words. Then, just when I thought our conversation had come to an end, he held out his hand. “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. Hi. I’m Ben Knight. A friend to all furry animals and women who may or may not be in distress.”

A corner of my mouth twitched, and I looked away, not wanting him to see how his words affected me. My original assessment had been correct. This guy was smooth, alright. I doubled down on my efforts to keep my distance, which meant it was time to put my squirrel brain and years of private school education to use.

“Ben Knight?” My mocking tone was the same one the girls in high school used whenever they caught me reading textbooks for fun. “Did you know that knights weren’t the good guys we imagined them to be? They often pillaged and plundered the people they were supposed to protect. Let me save you from wasting your time, Mr. Knight. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Mr. Shiny Shirt. I’ve no interest in hanging out with anyone this evening, so run along and find yourself some other woman to annoy.” I took a bite out of my hamburger, a twinge of guilt gnawing at my insides. So far, Ben had only tried to be helpful, and I was being deliberately rude. But I had to push him away. He was clearly a player. And after being stood up by my own father, I wasn’t about to let another man manipulate me tonight.

My gaze never strayed from my plate. By now, my burger was cold but still good—cheesy, salty, and with the perfect hint of pickle. It wasn’t until I’d wolfed down half of it that I realized just how hungry I’d been. While pausing to take a sip of water, I gave in to my growing curiosity and glanced to my right, expecting Ben to be long gone. To my shock, he still sat there, now with an identical burger in front of him. With a grin, Ben raised his burger in a salute before taking a bite.

He stayed? A small part of me couldn’t help but smile at that. But I tamped down my emotion. Ben was trouble—with a capital T. And I wasn’t interested.

5

BEN (SAME NIGHT, FIFTEEN MONTHS AGO)

Well, well, well, looked like my night had improved. Quinn sat next to me, pretending to be annoyed I was still there, but I’d noticed how she blushed when she saw me watching her. And the way her mouth twitched when I said something particularly amusing. This woman was intrigued by me but, for some reason, wasn’t allowing herself to be, which made her a beautiful puzzle that I looked forward to solving.

I took a bite of my dinner, savoring the brief pause in our banter. It was only a matter of time before she’d tell me off again. Then, of course, I’d respond with something charming, which would only serve to “annoy” her, and the cycle would repeat.

“Why are you still here?” Quinn shot daggers of ice at me. “I thought I made it clear that your presence isn’t wanted.”

So you claim, but your body language is saying something entirely different.

“I know. That’s why I’m letting you eat your dinner in peace. But I’m also hungry, so I decided to get a meal too.”

“Right next to me?”

There was that adorable lip twitch again. The tension sparked between us like electricity, powerful enough to light up the Vegas sky. Could she feel it too?

I’d been drawn to Quinn from the moment she walked into the bar, looking like a beautiful dream come to life. Poised and graceful, she was the kind of woman who looked as though she belonged in the country club I worked at, not slumming it in a hole-in-the-wall bar on the Strip.

Quinn practically glided across the floor, her pink dress floating around her while her hair, long and slightly curly, swayed behind her like a cascading wave. I watched her, unable to glance away for even one second because when the universe puts something that special in front of you, you pay attention.

When I caught her staring at Aiden and me, I pretended to not notice how she listened to everything we said. Catching her eavesdropping was the icing on the cake: once Aiden left, it gave me the perfect excuse to approach her.

Except that jerk got in the way. I grinned, remembering how she’d stood up to the man.

“So, Quinn, are you from around here?” I popped a French fry in my mouth and gave her a sideways glance.

Her brow furrowed. “Once again, I’ll repeat myself. What makes you think I want company?”

The girl not only had looks; she had claws. “Just making polite conversation with my neighbors.” I turned to the man on my right. “Hey, where you from, buddy?”

“Minnesota!” He raised his glass and cheered.

I raised my glass to him and then turned back to Quinn. “See? This is a friendly bar. Don’t you want to tell me where you’re from now?”

“No.” Her eyes sparkled, and she bit her bottom lip, a sure sign she was still holding that smile in tight.

Ha. If this woman thought she could push me away with these one-word answers, she was sorely mistaken. I worked as a bartender for a living; plus, I’d spent twenty-four years being Aiden’s younger brother, which meant I could cajole even the grumpiest person into a conversation.

“You’re not from Las Vegas, judging from the fact that you’re hanging out in a bar filled with tourists.” I casually surveyed her outfit: expensive high-heeled shoes, a purse that looked too small to actually hold anything, and a diamond bracelet on her wrist. “You’re dressed up, so I’m guessing you’re trying to impress someone. Were you meeting someone here, perhaps?”

Please let it not be a boyfriend.

“H-how did you know that?” The corners of her mouth turned downward, and she adjusted her glasses.

Bingo. The Strip’s mentalists had nothing on me. I shrugged. “I’m pretty good at reading people.”

Well, most of the time. I’d never noticed how unhappy my brother’s fiancée was until she left him. Caroline and Aiden were supposed to stay together forever, but after losing their baby girl, everything between them fell apart.

Quinn tapped her chin while studying me. “Of course. You read my nonverbal cues. My outfit choice. Isn’t that right?”

Clever, clever girl. Quinn saw what I was doing and was also avoiding answering my question. I tucked that little detail away in the back of my mind for later. “Possibly.”

“Mind if I take a turn at this game?”

Gotcha. “Go ahead.”

Her gaze raked over my face before dropping to my chest and then to my right arm, where her eyes widened at my half-sleeve of tattoos. Seemed someone here appreciated good art. Or the time I spent at the gym. I flexed my arm slightly, enjoying how her eyes followed the movement before popping back up to my face.

Naughty girl. I caught you staring again.

“Simple black T-shirt. Tattoos. Subtle cologne. Dark jeans. Tan skin. Sun-streaked hair.” Quinn rattled off the details as if recounting a grocery shopping list. “I’m guessing you’re also not from here because, as you pointed out, it’s a tourist bar. No, let’s assume you’re from some other sunny place. California.”

I raised my beer in a toast of admiration. “Well done.” It appeared there was much more to this woman than her stunning looks.

Quinn held up a hand, her dark eyes shining like polished onyx. “Hold on. I’m not done yet. You were also sitting with another man, who left looking rather irritated. Judging by your similar noses and jawlines and the relaxed way you two interacted, I’m guessing you’re related. Brothers, probably. Your high degree of agreeableness and extraversion tells me you’re the younger one. But not by much.

“I’m sensing you’re also the type of guy who enjoys just floating through life. You’re handsome enough that people flock to you, and you easily capture women’s attention.”

So I’d caught her attention? I grinned and was about to chime in with a comment about my healthy dating life, but Quinn continued, “Also, you probably work for the family business, coasting by on your good looks and personality. No. Change that. You have a fun job, something to tide you over post college. Maybe you work as a server at a fancy restaurant.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or you’re a bartender.”

My mouth fell open. I sat there, stunned by how spot-on her read was. How could someone who’d only just met me possibly know all that?

My father had recently offered to pass his body shop on to me, but I didn’t want to accept it. Some people dreamed of returning to their hometown to raise a family. But not me. Sunnyvale was too boring, and being saddled with a business felt too permanent, so I was bartending while figuring out my next steps.

“Frankly, I’m saddened that your older brother left,” Quinn added. “I suspect Aiden and I would have gotten along much better. We probably have similar temperaments since we’re both older siblings. That would explain why we both find you so irritating.”

Once again, the tension between us crackled. This woman was brilliant and beautiful: a thrilling and unbelievably rare combination. Drawn to her, I leaned in closer, unable to help myself. “How did you know all that? Are you a mind reader?”

She pulled away. “No. I overheard Aiden saying he didn’t want to be a part of whatever harebrained scheme you’d concocted. And judging by your behavior tonight, I’m guessing you do that a lot—stick your nose in other people’s business and drag them along to do things they don’t want to do, like hooking up with strangers.”

Game. Set. Match. Quinn’s triumphant look said it all. She thought she’d won—figured out what made me tick and then pushed me away. Quinn gestured to the bartender for her check, assuming she’d had the last word, and thoroughly dismissed me.

Now hold on one moment, princess. I’d enjoyed our back-and-forth banter up until now, but that last comment jabbed under my skin. “Sorry, but that’s where you’re wrong. I didn’t bring Aiden to Vegas on a whim. I brought him here, to get his mind off his fiancée leaving him. They broke up three years ago and he’s still hurting. If you’d seen how he’s struggled this whole time, you’d understand.” I’d had to do something. I couldn’t just sit back and watch him sink further and further into depression.

“You came here to help your brother heal from heartbreak?” Quinn’s shoulders sagged and it was like a light inside her dimmed. “I’m sorry for what I said before. And I’m sorry that he’s hurting. No one deserves to have someone they love abandon them.” She spoke the words with such passion that I couldn’t help but wonder if something similar had happened to her. Had some boyfriend been stupid enough to walk away?

The bartender brought over her check, and Quinn signed it. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave me a little wave. “Goodnight, Ben.” Her tone was softer than before, no doubt because of what I’d shared about Aiden.

No. I wasn’t ready to let her go. Not yet. I gave her my flirtiest smile, the one my mother called the Lady Killer. “Before you head off, mind telling me why you were eavesdropping on Aiden and me? For someone so determined to keep their distance, you sure seemed interested in our conversation.”

Quinn’s cheeks reddened. She opened her mouth to say something but then shook her head as if talking herself out of it. “I apologize if I was staring. I was interested because your brother looked upset. And I could relate…”

The pink dress. The “keep your distance” attitude. A story began writing itself in my head. “Someone stood you up tonight, didn’t they?”

Carefully avoiding my gaze, Quinn grabbed her purse off the counter. “Our conversation has been an interesting diversion, but I’m really leaving this time. Goodbye, Ben Knight.”

Bingo. I was right. Aiden was a cop and used interrogation techniques at work, but I had my own ways of obtaining information. “What are you doing for the rest of the night? I know this awesome bakery a few blocks over. We should check it out.”

Was every word of my request coated in desperation?

Yes.

Did I care?

Not at all. There was something special about this woman. I felt compelled to spend more time with her and wasn’t above using the lure of chocolate.

“We shared a meal together,” I added. “We might as well grab a dessert together too.”

The faintest of smiles graced Quinn’s face. “We most certainly did not share a meal. We were just two strangers, eating identical burgers… beside one another.”

“Then we’ll be experts at eating dessert beside one another.”

“Oh, will we?”

An alarm went off in Quinn’s bag, and she pulled out her phone and typed something in before staring at the screen.

Disappointment slammed me square in the chest. Was she making new plans with the person who stood her up? I was enjoying my time with her and didn’t want it to end.

“I can’t believe I’m a five,” Quinn murmured.

A five? What scale was she using? Quinn wasn’t a five. She was a solid ten. Forget that. On a scale of one to ten, she was an easy fifty. No, a thousand. Had the person on the phone told her that? I hated it when guys caused girls to judge themselves harshly.

She typed something into the phone and a genuine smile lit up her face, striking like a bullet straight to my heart. Talk about lousy timing; Quinn was probably talking to her idiot boyfriend who’d stood her up. I hated him, whoever this mystery guy was, because he’d breathed new life into her. She was practically glowing.

Quinn looked up from her phone, a sparkle in her eyes. “I was a zero just an hour ago, but after having something to eat and being annoyed by you, I’m at a five. It’s the biggest jump I’ve had all month.”

The biggest jump? What was she talking about? I stared at the faint green line on her screen. “What is this?”

Quinn’s smile widened, and now it was like a warm beam of light wrapping itself around me. “I designed an app to record my mood every hour for my final project for psychology class. Watch this.” She tapped on her phone, and the line morphed into a bar graph. “Typically, my jumps are one or two levels. But this last hour was different. I came in here a zero, and after talking to you, I jumped five levels. Now I’m a five.”

“And that’s good?” I said, struggling to keep up.

She scoffed. “Not just good. Amazing.” Quinn tapped on her screen again, then showed me another set of bar graphs.

How was she even doing that? “You could hack into a company with those skills,” I joked.

“I would never do something like that. Hacking’s illegal.” Quinn scrunched up her nose, making her look particularly adorable. “Unless you’re a white hat hacker. But companies do hire people to study their data.”

“Data? Cool. Some of my friends are into Star Trek, but I’m more of a Star Wars guy.” The second the horrible pun slipped out, I was horrified.

Smooth, Ben. What’s up with the dad jokes? Are you trying to embarrass yourself?

Quinn’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Data? As in the Star Trek character? Oh, I get it.” She gave an unladylike snort and covered her mouth with her hand before half-laughing, half-snorting again. “Wow. That’s awful.”

“It’s not that bad,” I muttered, my face heating with embarrassment. Normally, I prided myself on being a great conversationalist. That’s partially what made me such a good bartender. But something about Quinn made me revert back to an awkward middle schooler.

“No. It really is.” She giggled. “Perhaps I was wrong about you, and you aren’t such a player after all.”

“Or maybe I am, and I’m just lulling you into a false sense of security,” I teased back.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “Good point. The jury’s still out on my original assessment. No. I’ve only seen a few episodes of Star Trek, but I agree with you. Star Wars is way better, in my opinion. There’s too much techno babble in Star Trek.”

A woman familiar with the different fandoms? Be still my beating heart. I could propose to her right here.

Quinn shook her head. “No, I’m not talking about Data the character. I mean data as in information. Numbers, mathematical models—it’s kind of my thing. Did you know that companies today are swimming in data? The information just sits there, useless, until someone interprets the numbers, then boom! You’ve got power. And sometimes, even art.” She typed something into her phone and then showed me a series of illustrated flowers, each a different color with a different number of petals.

“Some data scientists display data as images, like these daisies. The number of petals in each flower corresponds to the number of emotional words used in different news articles. The more petals, the more emotional words.”

Quinn handed me the phone and I studied the flowers. “This is data?”

“Yup. Data daisies. Gorgeous, aren’t they?” She leaned in closer, and I caught a whiff of her perfume, something light and peachy.

Interesting. Quinn was showing me data, and here I was, collecting some of my own. She smelled delectable.

“What are your plans, Ben? If you’re free, I propose we spend the night together.”

What? I almost dropped her phone. Had I misheard her?

“We can hang out together and do fun stuff. For the numbers,” Quinn emphasized. “I rose five points. Perhaps I could rise five more.”

Oh. She wanted to sightsee with me. Not sightsee me. I chuckled. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“Physical activity’s meant to make you happier. Why don’t we walk down the Strip? I only flew in this morning and haven’t seen much of Vegas, I’m afraid.”

“Alright then. For the sake of reaching a ten, we’ll go for a walk together.” I held out my arm, and surprisingly, Quinn took it. Something clamped tight around my heart at how right this felt.

“My happiness is in your hands. Lead on, Sir Knight.”

6

QUINN (CURRENT DAY)

“Get away from her,” I screamed at the red-haired man as he dragged Joy toward the back of her plant shop.

“Or you’ll what?” he taunted. “You look more like a shopper than a fighter. You can’t do anything to me.”

My heart raced as I eyed the gun in his hand. Don’t let him get to you. Think, Quinn. Think. If he takes Joy away, Jasper and Leo will be left without a mother. Make him want you instead.

I pulled out the necklace I wore around my neck and held it out to him. “I have this ring. Take me instead of Joy, and it’s yours. The chain too.”

The man paused, as if considering, but then he smirked. “Sorry, but that’s not going to be enough.” Realizing what was about to happen, I sprinted over to them, but the gun went off, and Joy’s limp body slumped to the floor.

“NO!” I woke up with a gasp, one hand clasping my necklace while tears streamed down my face. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings as I stared at my empty bedroom. Outside, the sky was still dark.

It’s only a dream. Nothing more. Joy’s safe. We made it out that night because I managed to grab the gun out of the robber’s hands. Aiden had arrived in time to stop the criminals from kidnapping us, but it was like my mind refused to believe it. Every few nights, my subconscious tossed me back into that horrific situation. Sometimes, my imagination was particularly cruel and I wasn’t quick enough to save my friend.

I swiped at my tears and hugged my pillow tight, trying to free myself from the anguish and fear suffocating my heart.

She’s safe. They didn’t hurt her.

I glanced at my alarm clock and groaned when I saw it was only five o’clock. Accepting I wouldn’t fall back to sleep anytime soon, I sat up, deciding to use these extra two hours to do something productive. Nightmares weren’t going to get the best of me. I climbed out of bed, washed my face, and changed into my favorite workout gear: a T-shirt that said, “Sometimes, I go off on a tangent,” and my comfiest pair of yellow leggings. Both were gifts from Olivia, and I loved the combination.

Quarter past five. Time for a light breakfast. While waiting for my bagel to toast, I scanned today’s schedule on my phone. Breakfast. Workout. Shower. Presentation. Dinner. Knit. Figure out the Ben situation.

The small black velvet box on my kitchen counter caught my attention. Don’t open it. Don’t even think about it. Instead, I forced myself to look at my current knitting project, which lay in a basket by my couch: a temperature blanket—each knitted square a different shade of blue, representing the temperature that day. Although I’d lost a few knitting nights to working extra hours debugging my model, I’d almost caught up with my squares.

After finishing my bagel, I washed my dishes, and my gaze wandered back to the jewelry box.

Look away!

But it was too late. I dried my hands and walked toward the box, compelled to open it and slip the sparkling ring on.

It fit perfectly.

And it was mine.

Snap out of it! Darn ring was turning me into Gollum from The Lord of the Rings. I tore the cursed piece of jewelry from my finger and slipped it back into its box. It shut with a satisfying click.

No more thinking about the ring or Ben’s proposition until tonight. Instead, I’d work out and then focus on my important presentation.

Aren’t you curious? Of all the women in his life, why did Ben ask you to attend the wedding with him?

Nope. I wasn’t going down that windy path. No longer would Ben live rent-free in my thoughts. I’d once given him far too much space in my heart.

With teeth brushed and hair tied up into a ponytail, I grabbed my bags and headed out, leaving the ring-that-shall-not-be-named on my kitchen counter.

What about your promise?

To wear the darn ring? It was a ridiculous ask. What sort of power did Ben think he held over me? Plus, he’d have no idea if I wore the thing or not.

You’re thinking about him again.

Thankfully, my mood brightened as soon as I stepped outside. The sky was still dark, but the faintest ocean breeze caressed my face, and I could smell the salty brine in the air. That’s what I loved best about my small one-bedroom apartment. It was a twenty-minute drive from work, a fifteen-minute walk to downtown Sunnyvale, and a ten-minute hike to the beach. The ocean was one of my favorite places. Sometimes, especially on quiet mornings such as this, I could almost hear the distant crashing waves. It was a sound I’d heard all my life, and as soothing to me as my own heartbeat.

I arrived at the gym in less than ten minutes. After parking in my favorite spot, I waved hi to Sarah, seated at the front desk, and headed straight to the rock-climbing area.

When I first began working out last year, I’d followed a strict schedule, allotting some days to cardio and others to strength training. But ever since the robbery, I’d discovered rock climbing was the perfect place to escape my thoughts. Because it was so early, I had the entire wall to myself—just the way I liked it.

Today, I focused on bouldering. Each week, they modified the routes, and this time, a particularly challenging one caught my eye. Clad in my climbing sneakers and hands dusted with chalk, I ran at the wall and jumped. With a grunt, I pulled myself up and stretched my right leg until my foot found a secure hold. The first few grips weren’t too difficult, but my arm muscles still strained as I made my way higher and higher, some of the holds were barely large enough for me to grasp.

Good thing I wasn’t wearing Ben’s engagement ring. It could have gotten ruined.

My left hand slipped. Panicking, I grabbed on to the hold again and put out my left leg to push up as I reached for the next one. Almost. My right hand finally found a suitable grip. Yes! I was strong. I could do this.

Are we talking about rock climbing? Or spending a weekend alone with Ben?

My right foot slipped.

Would you leave me alone? I yelled at my subconscious. I brought my foot back to the hold and continued climbing upward.

No Ben. I was going to be Zen.

So freaking Zen.

I reached the final hold and let out a silent cheer before making my way back down. Then, because I still had a bit of extra time, I tried my hand at climbing two other routes, before returning to the mat, exhausted.

“Looks like someone’s having a good morning,” a voice called from behind me.

I turned to find Alex staring. He and I met a few months ago in the weight training room, and since our workout schedules often coincided, he’d stop by from time to time for a chat.

“Thought you weren’t going to make that last grip.” He grinned, showing a toothy smile.

“You and me both.” I collapsed to the floor, my arm and leg muscles aching, then changed into my regular gym shoes.

He flexed a bicep. “I was in the weight room, working on my definition.”

I studied his bulging muscles. Alex had an impressive physique, no doubt about it, but I preferred my men leaner.

Like Ben?

Seriously? I shooed away that errant thought. No. Definitely not like Ben. “Wish I could stay longer and talk, but I’ve gotta go.”

Alex followed me out. “Leaving so soon? How about we grab a coffee together?”

“Can’t. I need to go over some notes for my presentation. Maybe next time.” I was finally showing my models to the owners of LoveMate, a new dating app set to launch later in the year. The startup was looking to hire a company to come up with the algorithm for setting up matches. If today’s presentation went well, M Studios would get a new client, and I’d finally head up my own project. That sort of experience would look amazing on my résumé.

I passed the weight room and turned down another corridor toward the showers, Alex staying by my side the entire time.

“Will you be in tomorrow? You could show me a pointer or two on the wall. You’re such a natural. Better yet, I’ll grab your number. I know a great place we can practice bouldering this weekend.”

Alarm bells rang at his overeager invitation, but I ignored them. Besides asking for my number, he’d never made any move on me before. “You know what? I’m in a rush today. Let’s exchange numbers another time.”

Alex pulled out his phone. “You keep saying ‘next time,’ but let’s just do it now. It’ll only take a couple of seconds. What are your weekend plans anyway? If you’re not in the mood for climbing, maybe we could check out a movie?”

Seemed my arrangement with Ben might actually come in handy. “Sorry. I’ll be out of town till Monday. I’m going to a wedding in Vegas.”

“Sounds fun. How about the following week?” Alex took another step closer and brushed my waist with his fingertips. “I’d love to hang out with you outside of the gym. Get to know you better.”

This time, I didn’t ignore the sirens blaring in my head; I stumbled backward. “Just to clear the air, I’m not looking for anything romantic right now. My life’s… complicated.” Hopefully, that clarified things. I wasn’t interested in Alex romantically, and I didn’t want any weirdness between us when our paths crossed in the mornings.

His friendly expression slipped, his eyes turning beady. “Seriously? You tell me this now? After we’ve been flirting for weeks?”

Whoa. Where had that come from? I took a step back toward the weight room, now uncomfortable that we were the only two people in the hallway. Talk about a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde transformation. “I was being friendly.” Which I now seriously regretted.

Alex took a step closer, and my heartbeat spiked. Although a little shorter than me, he had an extra fifty pounds of muscle on him.

“Just being friendly? Have you seen what you’re wearing?” He grabbed hold of my wrist and squeezed. “You’re giving guys the wrong message, dressing like that. You’re begging for attention.”

A sour taste coated the inside of my mouth. I was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt and leggings. What did he expect me to wear to the gym? The only message my outfit gave anyone was that I was a die-hard math fanatic. I tried tugging my arm away, but Alex’s grip was unyielding. I shot a darting glance back toward the main corridor. If I screamed, surely someone in the weight room would hear me…? I tried freeing my arm again. “Let go of me. Now.”

“I will—once you apologize for wasting my time.” Alex yanked me closer until I was pressed against his chest. He leaned in and sniffed my hair. “Mmm, you smell good, Quinn.”

A shiver ran down my spine and instinct kicked in. I lifted my foot and stomped down on his shoe. Hard. Spewing a string of profanities, Alex released my arm. The second I was free from his grasp, I turned and sprinted back toward the weight room. As I ran, desperately hoping that someone would be in there, a man who looked surprisingly like Ben barreled past, heading in the opposite direction.

Hang on a moment. The man didn’t just resemble Ben. It was Ben. What was he doing here?

A furious-looking Ben shoved Alex to the ground. “Don’t you dare touch her again,” he snarled.

Alex scrambled to his feet, red-faced and fuming. “Mind your own business. This is a private conversation between me and Quinn.”

“You think it’s okay to threaten a woman?” Ben grabbed Alex by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall. “You think you can corner Quinn and make her do something against her will? Listen to me because I’ll say this only once. I don’t want you talking to Quinn again. Ever. You hear me? Don’t look at her. Don’t think about her. Stay. Away.”

Alex twisted, fighting against Ben’s grip. “Please,” he scoffed. “If you saw how she’s been flirting with me for weeks, you’d agree. Quinn’s been sending mixed messages.”

Fury poured through my veins like molten lava, disintegrating my fear from earlier. I stormed over to Alex, not even acknowledging Ben’s presence. “How many times do I have to tell you? I was being friendly. And every time you asked me out for a coffee, I told you I wasn’t interested. You should have figured it out.”

“You should be grateful for the attention.” Alex barked out a harsh, derisive laugh. “You’re not even all that hot.”

I rolled my eyes. Classic comeback: hurt an insecure man, and he retaliates with a comment about your appearance. As if that was all I had to offer. As if I cared what this subhuman thought of me.

“Excuse me, Ben! Please let him go.”

I whipped around to see a crowd of onlookers, and the manager of the gym, who was making his way toward us. “Let go of him! Or I’ll be forced to call the authorities.”

The blood drained from my face. When had we gained an audience?

Ben scowled, but he released Alex, who shot us a condemning look. “Did you see what this guy did to me? I want to press charges.”

My heart stalled in my chest. Would Ben get in trouble for protecting me?

The manager walked past Ben to address Alex. Concern pinched his expression. “Actually, you need to come with me. Let’s have a talk in my office. Now.”

Alex cursed. “Seriously? Where’s the justice? You’re going to call me out when he assaulted me?” Alex stabbed a finger at Ben. “This moron is the one you should punish. At least revoke his membership.”

The manager’s expression hardened. “We have you on tape, grabbing Quinn. As of today, we’re revoking your membership. If you don’t collect your things and leave immediately, I’ll call security.”

“I can’t believe this,” Alex spat. “Fine. I’ll go. This gym’s a joke anyway.” The crowd of onlookers stepped back to give him a wide berth as he walked by, with some of the women shaking their heads.

The manager pinched the bridge of his nose, no doubt wishing he hadn’t come in to work today. He then turned and gave me an apologetic look. “I’m deeply sorry about this, Quinn. We strive to ensure our facility’s a safe place for everyone. As an apology for how you were treated today, we’ll give you free membership for the rest of the year. Please rest assured that you won’t have any problems like this in the future.”

“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure if I’d return, but I appreciated his attempt at fixing the situation.

The manager then faced Ben and wrung his hands. “I’m sorry, but Alex is right. We’ll also have to revoke your membership. You’re on tape, grabbing him.”

“But he was defending me!” I protested. My throat felt tight. Ben might be a thorn in my side, but I wouldn’t stand by and allow him to be treated unfairly.

“Sorry, but rules are rules,” the manager said.

Ben placed a hand on my arm. His expression was grim. “Don’t worry about it, Quinn. It’s fine. I understand.”

He dropped his arm and walked away, and before I knew it, I’d followed him through the crowd and outside the building. “Wait!” I yelled. “What were you doing here? Are you following me?”

Ben turned toward me, his expression weary. “You really don’t think very highly of me, do you? I’ve been coming here for over a year. But I usually come after work. Thought I’d try something new today. Where’s your ring, Quinn?”

“My ring?” I spluttered, losing steam. I reached for the one I always wore around my neck.

“No. Not that one. Your engagement ring.”

I stared down at my empty ring finger, feeling guilty. “I-it’s at home. I forgot.”

Ben let out a long sigh. “You promised you’d wear it. Everywhere except when you’re meeting your friends. That was our deal. You broke your word.”

He was right, but something about his tone rubbed me the wrong way. Why was he bringing this up? “Why does it matter if I wear it now or not? This isn’t a real engagement. The ring doesn’t actually mean anything.”

“It would have kept that guy away.”

Ben’s words knocked me a little breathless. He thought the ring would protect me?

“Don’t worry about me,” I muttered. “I’ve dealt with guys like Alex all my life.” In high school, I had a massive growth spurt, and suddenly, my school uniform no longer fit me the same way. My skirts became shorter, and boys began making rude comments. Several said I was asking for attention, and a handful even tried flipping my skirt. Their words chipped away at my self-confidence, making me scared and uncomfortable in my new body.

But that was years ago. I was different now. Stronger. Except when Ben came to my rescue, it didn’t feel that way. It was like I was back in high school again. “Why did you get involved? How many times do I have to tell you this isn’t medieval times? I’m not some helpless princess in need of saving. I can slay my own dragons, like I always have.”

Something shifted in his gaze. Ben ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Geez, Quinn. Do you think I don’t already know that? You single-handedly took down two armed robbers. Of course you could have taken care of this guy. You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met. But just because you can take care of it all doesn’t mean you have to. Sometimes, we all need help. Tell me, Quinn, who takes care of you?”

Every muscle in my body stiffened. Perhaps Ben really was a knight because he wielded his words like a blade, and they sliced deeply.

A profound ache in my chest made it almost difficult to breathe. “I don’t need anyone’s help. If I had a dollar for every time something like that happened, I’d… I…”

I’d be a billionaire.

Wetness burned the backs of my eyes. Please don’t let me cry in front of Ben.

Too late, tears trailed down my cheeks as a pair of strong arms wrapped around me, holding me up against a rock-hard chest. “Shhh. You’re safe,” Ben whispered in my ear.

My knees went weak and my tears flowed freely. I full-on ugly-cried. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn’t help it. Instead, I leaned into Ben’s chest, soaking in his touch like a flower parched for water. The barriers surrounding my heart disintegrated, destroyed like sandcastles pummeled by the ocean waves. The truth was guys constantly made uncomfortable remarks around me. That’s why I dressed as I did: conservative to the point of hiding almost every inch of skin. It was how I kept myself safe, the fashion armor I donned daily to protect myself from the world. Even my glasses were worn to keep men at a distance.

Dress well but not too revealing because I didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.

Wear makeup but not too much because I wanted people to respect me for my intelligence and not make snap judgments based on my looks.

Be polite but not overly friendly because I didn’t want to give the wrong impression to someone who’d misunderstand and not take the rejection well. Like what happened with Alex today.

“It’s okay, Quinn,” Ben murmured, stroking my hair. “Just let it out.”

It took me a few moments before I could regain my composure. I jerked away and wiped my eyes, determined to look anywhere but him. Embarrassment bubbled inside. How could I break down in front of Ben, of all people? He’d broken my heart once before and now I was opening myself up to be vulnerable again. My stomach dipped nervously. I felt exposed, and I hated it.

Find the anger. Hold on to the anger.

Except it was becoming harder and harder to do so when I clearly missed the comfort of his touch. What was happening to me?

Ben cleared his throat. “Want to hear something interesting?” He read from his phone: “Did you know that humans shed fifteen to thirty gallons of tears each year?”

“I knew that already.” I sniffed, swiping the remaining tears from my face. “And even though other animals also shed tears, tears expressing emotions are uniquely human.”

“Really? Well, I didn’t know that.” Ben gave me an easy smile and slid his phone back into his pants pocket. “I’ll tuck that fact away for later. Look, Quinn, you don’t have to be embarrassed about crying in front of me. I know why you’re so upset. You’re concerned about my health because I got banned from the gym. But don’t worry. I’ll find some other place to work out. These abs are safe.” He raised his shirt to reveal a ripped six-pack.

I sucked in a sharp breath. Hello, anatomy. How was it possible for a man to be so chiseled? I took in the sight, fighting the urge to run my fingers over every single glorious muscle. Ben’s eyes caught mine, and his mouth quirked up in a wicked smile. Cheeks flaming, I turned away and muttered, “No. I’m not worried about that. You’ll find some other gym, I’m sure.”

“True. And since I was kicked out of this one for defending you, the least you can do is wear my engagement ring.”

Was he still pushing this? Laughter escaped me in spite of myself. Ben was persistent, alright. “Fine. I’ll grab it when I get home and wear it all day. But don’t get any funny ideas. This thing between us isn’t real. Once it’s over, we’re back to being enemies.”

“Right. The worst enemies ever.” Ben grinned like it was all one big joke. “In the meantime, we need to meet up to go over the details about our relationship.”

“Fake relationship.” I quickly added.

“Fake relationship,” he emphasized. “I’m counting on you being a decent date.”

Decent? Surely he was mocking me! I was high school valedictorian and graduated with honors from Berkeley. I didn’t do anything decently. I excelled. “Just you wait. I’ll be the best darn fiancée you’ve ever had. I’ll be so amazing that I’ll ruin you for every woman afterward.”

Ooookay. Forget how that sounded. I knew what I meant. I was going to be an amazing fake fiancée and make Ben eat his words.

Ben laughed and gave me a one-handed salute. “Yes, ma’am. Let’s plan on figuring out the details later.”

Finally, something I was good at—planning. “How about we schedule something now? I’m free tonight after six. Or tomorrow after six, but that’s cutting it a bit close since we’re leaving on Thursday.”

Ben shrugged. “Sure. Either works for me. Text me a day and time.”

No, thank you. The less time I spent interacting with him, the better. “Why don’t we set something up now?”

Ben turned and jogged away. “Can’t. Super busy. Gotta run. Bye, Quinnie.”

Again with that exasperating nickname! “You know I hate it when you call me that,” I yelled after him.

His only response was laughter.

7

QUINN (SAME NIGHT, FIFTEEN MONTHS AGO)

What was I doing? I never offered to hang out with someone I’d only just met. Then again, I wasn’t usually out this late at night either, unless it was a hot and heavy date with the university library.

Ooh, statistics study groups. Hot data sets. Even hotter brains.

I waited while Ben signed his check, wondering why someone like him would go along with my scheme. The guy was handsome and fun. Why would he agree to go on some nerdy quest when there were at least a dozen other women in this bar who could show him a better time?

Something had to be wrong with him. Or perhaps he had an ulterior motive.

I slid closer to Ben as he handed the check to the bartender. “Just so we’re on the same page, I’m not looking for any kind of romantic entanglement. This isn’t a date. It’s a strictly platonic arrangement.” If he thought we’d hook up once the night was over, he was sorely mistaken.

Ben nodded. “Fine by me.”

“That means I’m sleeping in my hotel room. By myself. Alone.”

“Understood.”

He seemed earnest, but that didn’t mean I completely trusted him. Maybe Ben wanted us to spend time together because he knew I was Imani Mitchell’s daughter. As one of the few women to grace both top fashion and business magazines, her name hovered above me like a spotlight, beckoning to those seeking quick fame or fortune.

Hang out with Quinn and you’ll get access to the right people.

“Friends” quickly disappeared when they realized my life wasn’t all glamorous parties and weekend trips to the Amalfi Coast. My mother tried her best to treat us like normal kids. I spent most of my time in the library, working hard to make my own path in life.

“Do I look familiar to you?” I asked, my good mood slipping. “Anyone you’ve seen on television? Or in a magazine?”

Ben’s gaze slid over me, roaming across my eyes and cheeks before coming to rest on my lips. There was an unmistakeable flutter in my belly, but I shooed it away.

No romantic entanglements, remember?

After what felt like an eternity, he shook his head. “No. I can honestly say I’ve never seen you before. Why? Are you famous? Should I recognize you?”

Hmm, I still couldn’t detect any guile or deceit in his expression. After a lifetime of people having access to intimate details of Mom’s life on the internet, it was refreshing to be with someone who had no idea who I was. “No. Just wondering. I’ve been told I look like various people.”

“Really? Who?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said, ready to change the conversation topic. “Also, I probably should have checked before, but you aren’t, by any chance, a criminal?”

Ben laughed so hard that his shoulders shook. “No. I promise I have no nefarious past or plans for you. And just to prove it”—he waved the mustached bartender over—“here’s my ID. My name is Benjamin Knight. I’m here with Quinn…”

“Mitchell,” I provided.

Ben turned back to the bartender. “Quinn Mitchell and Benjamin Knight were here tonight. Nine o’clock. Remember us.”

With a puzzled frown, the man studied Ben’s driver’s license before staring at our faces. “Sure. Whatever,” he said, before walking away.

“See?” Ben said. “Now someone here has seen us together. It’s on record.”

I pursed my lips, trying hard not to laugh. “The security camera would also have captured our images.” I pointed to the camera mounted in a far corner of the room.

Ben smiled. “True. But I’m making a point. You’re safe with me, Quinn, I promise. I want to hang out with you because you’re interesting. I’ve never murdered anyone, and I’ve never been to prison, although I have been in trouble with the law before.”

“What?” I clutched my purse, ready to walk away.

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Now, hold on a moment, and let me explain. It was my twenty-first birthday. I’d had a bit too much to drink and thought it would be fun to go swimming. A friend drove me to the pool, but since it was late at night, the pool was closed. Instead of leaving, I had the genius idea of climbing over the fence. Someone saw me and called the cops. They weren’t too happy with me being in the pool. And they were even less thrilled when they realized I was in my birthday suit.” He cleared his throat. “You know, on account of it being my birthday.”

I tilted my head back and laughed, imagining the cops’ shocked faces and a soaking Ben riding in the back of a police car.

Ben grinned. “Now I’ve told you all about my sordid run-in with the law. How about you? Any criminal record I should know about?”

He had a good point. Statistically, there are more male than female offenders, but female criminals still exist, nonetheless. “No prison time. No arrests. No parking tickets.” I ticked off the list of possible infractions on my fingers. “No detentions. No expulsions. No cavities. And no late library books. I take particular pride in those last two, by the way. I’m as safe and boring as they come, promise.”

“No cavities?” Ben let out a low whistle. “That’s impressive. Well, we’ll see what happens on our quest for a ten. The night is still young, and we’re in Vegas. Who knows? There might be a rogue chocolate cake in your future.”

The sun had set hours ago, but you couldn’t tell when we stepped outside because neon signs and flat screens lit up the sky. The Strip was as busy now as it was at two in the afternoon. Everywhere you looked, tourists swarmed the sidewalks, speaking in different languages and taking photos in front of the various buildings. In the distance, a replica of the Eiffel Tower glowed against the night sky, a beautiful beacon of light.

That’s it. That’s where I wanted to go first. “Can we visit the Paris Hotel? Mom took us to France when I was in high school, and I’d love to see the Eiffel Tower again.”

“Your wish is my command.” Ben performed a goofy bow and I failed to keep the grin off my face as we set off in that direction. Perhaps my initial assessment of Ben had been wrong. Even though we’d only just met, he was easy to talk to and made dumb jokes about Star Trek. I felt comfortable with him. Safe.

“Did you know that the Vegas tower’s a half-scale copy? The original was built in eighteen eighty-nine to be one of the main attractions at the Paris World’s Fair.”

We carried on walking, avoiding the crowd surrounding a group of fluorescent-clad street performers. I marveled at their glowing outfits. “And here’s another interesting tidbit. Did you know that more than forty-one million people visit Vegas each year? Some people consider it the brightest spot on Earth. I saw this photo of the Strip from space, and it positively glowed; it looked like its very own galaxy floating in a soup of stars.”

Ben stopped walking and stared at me as if I were some sort of curious creature locked behind bars at the zoo. “Um, Quinn?”

Oops. Squirrel brain. “Sorry. I read all this in my in-flight brochure. I don’t mean to bore you with all the details.”

Stupid Quinn. Of course he doesn’t want to hear about this stuff.

“No. It’s really interesting, but we should probably talk over here.” Ben grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the way of a crowd of women wearing feathered headdresses and matching sequined bikinis.

Two dozen women wearing next to nothing should have captured my attention, but my eyes remained glued to our intertwined hands. I hadn’t grown up in a huggy family, which was fine because I never enjoyed people touching me—bodies were too hot, and skin was too sweaty. The last time a guy held my hand was in junior year of high school. Jared was a senior, and we were on the debate team together. One day, after returning from winning the state championships, Jared told me that he liked me and then spent five minutes giving his supporting argument for us dating.

Jared’s breath perpetually smelled of orange soda, and his hands were slimy, but holding hands with Ben felt different… nice even. A sense of anticipation fluttered in my chest, the same feeling I got when I purchased a new skein of yarn or right before I sipped my morning cup of coffee. And Ben certainly didn’t reek of orange soda. I leaned in and inhaled. No, he smelled of woods and the coast. It was a fresh scent that reminded me of the ocean.

“Stay close. I don’t want to lose you.” Ben gently pulled me to him, the outline of his arm pressing against mine as we stepped aside to avoid an accordion player riding by on a unicycle.

Together, we continued to weave our way through the crowds. More costumed performers may have passed by after that, but they could have been monkeys riding miniature motorcycles, and I still wouldn’t have noticed a thing. I kept my eyes glued to our hands, keenly aware of all the places where Ben’s body touched mine.

Interesting. I’d known Jared for three years, but when he tried to take my hand, I’d snatched it away. And yet, despite having only just met Ben, I enjoyed knowing that his twenty-seven hand bones were connected intimately with my own.

“Quinn? What is it?”

“Fifty-four,” I murmured.

“Fifty-four? Is that supposed to mean something? Like a lucky number?”

Lucky number? Confused, I blinked and looked around, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the glaring lights of the Vegas Strip. Somewhere, faint in the distance, “La Vie en Rose” played on an accordion.

“No. It’s not my lucky number. I was just adding the number of bones in your hand with the number of bones in mine.” I raised our joined hands. “See? Your twenty-seven bones are touching my twenty-seven bones. Fifty-four in total.”

Ben stared at our hands for a long moment before responding with the worst monosyllabic response ever: “Oh.”

My mood plummeted. Oh. That’s what people said when they weren’t sure of the polite response to my squirrel brain. I’d heard it countless times when I shared an interesting fact that had captured my attention.

Did you know they once considered cabbage an elixir for baldness?

Did you know that Napoleon Bonaparte’s actual height was thought to be five feet five inches?

Oh. It was society’s polite way of saying you’re weird.

I let go of Ben’s hand and pushed my glasses up my nose. The lovely warm bubble that had blanketed me so softly popped. Embarrassment flamed my cheeks. What had I expected, asking a stranger to accompany me tonight? My facts weren’t absurd. This whole adventure was absurd. I started walking away, making my way through the oncoming crowds. A few people bumped into me, their touches jarring, but I kept going, desperate to put as much distance between Ben and me as possible.

Fifty-four bones? Awesome job, squirrel brain. Why did the weirdest things come out of my mouth sometimes?

“Wait!” Ben called from behind me, and I picked up my pace. I’d had my fill of men tonight; I just wanted to return to my hotel, then fly back to school and my lovely books.

“Quinn, please. Hold on a second.” Ben appeared by my side, matching my pace. “Where are you going? I’m sorry. Should I not have held your hand?”

No. That had been the loveliest thing to happen to me all wretched night. And I’d ruined it with my awkwardness.

A large man talking loudly on a cell phone walked by. Not looking where he was going, his shoulder bumped into Ben’s. I winced. Now Ben was getting hurt trying to keep up with me. Before another tourist walked into him, I grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him under the awning of an all-you-can-eat hot dog joint before letting go. “Thanks for the five, and let’s call it a night. We don’t need to drag this out any longer. I’m heading back to my hotel.”

Ben’s eyes widened. “Is this about the facts? You’ve got a fantastic memory. I’d kill to remember stuff the way you do.”

Really? I found that hard to believe. “It’s not that great of a talent.”

His mouth fell slightly open. “Are you kidding? It’s amazing. You’re fascinating, Quinn.”

Now my jaw unhinged. Fascinating? Me? Usually, guys told me I was beautiful, but their eyes would glaze over or get a tight squinty look whenever I told them obscure facts. Some would merely laugh it off, tell me I needed to be more fun.

Ben reached out and carefully lifted my chin until we stared into each other’s eyes.

“This is good,” he said slowly, never taking his eyes off mine. “I’m getting to know you better. Adventurers on data quests should get to know each other, don’t you think?”

“I-I suppose so.” Why did I sound breathless all of a sudden?

His hand dropped, and I instantly longed for the warmth that had been there only seconds before.

We continued walking back toward the tower in silence until Ben eventually spoke again. “I now know that your name is Quinn Mitchell, and you enjoy eating hamburgers, you like counting and adding bones, and you have an amazing memory. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

I thought back to our discussion in the bar. “Was I right about you being a bartender?”

Ben’s smile drooped a fraction. “Yes. I’m currently bartending at a country club. The pay isn’t bad, but it’s not what I plan on doing for the rest of my life. I just got this job to coast for a bit while I figure things out. You know?”

Logically, yes, I could understand someone needing to relax, but not having a plan for your life? That concept was alien to me. “Not really. I’m heading to law school next year. I’ve been working toward this goal for years.”

Ben laughed before realizing I was serious. “So five-year-old Quinn’s dream was to be a lawyer?”

I grinned. “No. I dreamed of being a librarian. And then a scientist. And then there was a brief time when I debated being a bus driver.”

He stopped walking and turned to me in astonishment.“Really?”

“A sixth-grade career assessment said I’d make an excellent bus driver because I adhered to the rules and had good spatial awareness.” I shrugged. “But then I joined the debate team, and I set my sights on becoming a lawyer.”

We continued walking some more before Ben spoke again “I’d have thought you’d want to do something with data. You seem so passionate about it.”

He was right. Stats was one of my favorite classes.

“Truthfully, I didn’t intend on bartending for this long,” Ben said. “But after college, there was a lot of change in my life with moving back to my hometown. Everything’s been up in the air for so long that I haven’t had time to figure out what I actually want. That’s why I’m taking things day by day.” He took my hand again, and we edged around the crowd until we stood at the base of the Eiffel Tower, now blasting obnoxious music and flashing red, white, and blue lights.

“The one in Paris doesn’t play music,” I yelled.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he shouted back.

Once the show ended, we ducked into one of the side streets and strolled along, hand in hand, until we came to a halt outside a small white chapel with bubblegum-pink entry doors. A couple came out, the woman wearing a short, sparkly white dress and the man clad in a sequined jumpsuit.

“Ever dream of a Vegas wedding?” Ben asked.

I watched as the man dipped the woman to kiss her. Had these two just gotten married? “Definitely not. The whole idea of marriage—the gown, the church, the soulmates. Sorry, I don’t need any of it.” Couples who married today might seem happy, but who knew how long their love would last? It was easy to promise forever when your brain was swimming in oxytocin.

Ben let go of my hand and slid his hands into his pockets. “Don’t all women dream of being swept off their feet by the perfect guy?”

Not me. “Perfection is impossible.”

“So, you’ll never get married?”

He looked so disappointed that I had to tease him. “Only a sith deals in absolutes. Yes, in a few years, I’ll be open to the possibility of a permanent partnership. I’ve even drawn up a list of the qualities I require in a partner.”

Ben chuckled. “Of course you have. I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone who designed an app to chart their moods.”

And proud of it. Programming that thing was particularly challenging. “Laugh all you want, but everyone should make lists. They help keep you on track.”

“Maybe. But I prefer to keep things spontaneous,” Ben said. “How else would I find myself going on walks with women who are fanatical about data sets?”

“Tonight’s adventure is an exception. You can’t dive into something as serious as a relationship without having a plan. There are four boxes that my future partner must check.”

“Go on,” Ben said, seeming to listen intently.

“First of all, he must be kind. Second, he must be honest. Third, he’s got to have ambition. My future partner just can’t rely on me to take care of him. He’s got to bring something to the table.”

Ben appeared thoughtful. “Kindness. Honesty. Ambition. And the last one?”

I lifted my right foot to show Ben my shoe. “Height. I enjoy wearing heels, but lots of guys are intimidated by women taller than them. It’s noted in several psychological papers. I’m five foot nine without shoes on.”

“Is that so?” He took a step closer so that our toes touched and our faces were only inches apart.

My breath hitched as I took in the symmetrical lines and planes of his face. “What are you doing?”

Strange. There it was, that odd breathlessness again.

“Collecting data. Don’t move. We have to make sure we’re doing this right.” He placed a hand on top of his head, then slowly moved it forward until it hovered just above mine. “It appears I’m taller than you.”

I looked up and for an instant, time stood still. “Only by a few inches.”

“Still counts, though, wouldn’t you say?”

My belly swooped. I took a giant step backward, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe. “I suppose so. Anyway, that’s my list.”

Another couple walked out of the chapel, this one appearing just as happy as the last. My parents were probably once like that… and now they were strangers. An odd feeling started behind my ribcage and my chest felt heavy. “Hearts change. That’s why I’ll never make the mistake of marrying someone for love. I refuse to let my emotions cloud my judgment like that.”

“Emotions aren’t the enemy.” Ben leaned against the fence surrounding the chapel, his expression somber. “Haven’t you ever acted on gut instinct? Went for something because it felt right? Maybe you think it’s silly, but I believe in a forever kind of love. My parents have been married for over twenty years. They’re not the same people now as they were at the beginning of their relationship, but they still love each other.”

He didn’t say the words accusingly, but they stung all the same. Surely he knew that wasn’t everybody’s reality. “Couples often grow apart, and children are raised by single parents. No. I’ll settle for an equal partnership with a kind man. And if he wants to leave me, I won’t be hurt because I’ll never let myself become too attached.”

I’ll never fall in love.

Ben frowned. “You’re talking about a business arrangement, not a marriage. What about people who fall in love at first sight?”

“That’s hormones.” I scoffed. “Or alcohol. Not love. I don’t want a man to think I’m perfect, because I’m not. I’ll only disappoint him later. And I don’t want to be swept off my feet, because I don’t trust my emotions to last. And I don’t need a man to buy me a flashy ring. I’ll buy my own pear-shaped yellow diamond with a rose gold band, thank you very much.”

His brow shot up. “Wow. That seems like an oddly specific ring for the woman who never dreamed of a perfect wedding.”

Oops. He was right. Even I could tell how much of a hypocrite I sounded like right now. “It’s not like I have a hidden Pinterest board filled with dream wedding venues. My roommate’s in a serious relationship. She was looking at rings one day and I happened to see one I liked,” I mumbled, wishing I never said anything.

Thankfully, my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out to complete my app.

Mood? I glanced at Ben’s smirking face. Unfortunately, down to a three.

Reason? Talking with Ben about the pointlessness of romance.

Really, Quinn? Is that the real reason you’re upset? A voice whispered.

Yes. Obviously.

“Dare I ask how we’re doing mood-wise?” Ben tried to sneak a peek at my screen.

“Badly. I’m grumpier because of our argument.”

“You mean our healthy discussion.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Alright,” Ben said with a laugh. “Let’s agree to disagree. I have a way to fix this.” He gestured toward a pool hall across the street. “What about some good old-fashioned competition? How do you feel about a game of pool?”

We owned a pool table growing up and I brightened at the thought of beating Ben. “Sure. We can try that.”

8

QUINN (FIFTEEN MONTHS AGO)

What time was it? I yawned and stretched, my head throbbing painfully. The sleeves of my pink dress dug into my shoulders, and I frowned down at my bare arms. Why wasn’t I wearing my pajamas?

Hold on a moment. My eyes focused on the busy print on the wall. This wasn’t my hotel room. My room had striped black and white walls, while this room was covered in green granny chic paisley.

Something moved beside me in the bed.

I sucked in a breath. What. Was. That?

I slowly turned and spied a sleeping figure lying next to me. I didn’t think it was possible, but Ben’s face was even more handsome in the daylight. His blond eyelashes rested gently on his cheekbones. I lowered the bedsheets to reveal a pair of broad shoulders.

A muffled shriek escaped my lips and I jumped out of bed, trying to figure out what was happening. I was still in the same dress from yesterday, and Ben lay asleep beside me, shirtless. Biting my lip, I tried retracing my steps from last night, but it was difficult because every time I did, my head felt like it was being squeezed by a juicer.

Come on, neurons, fire up and do your thing!

It was like squeezing water from a rock, but little by little, details filtered back to me: Us heading off on a quest for my ten. Walking to the mini Eiffel Tower, then heading into a pool hall. Me drinking a Mai Tai and something that was decidedly not iced tea while a woman with a rose neck tattoo flirted with Ben. And then…

I groaned. That was it. Images of a disco ball, fake pink flowers, and Elvis appeared in my head, but it was like peering into a watery reflection: they kept morphing into something not quite understandable.

Judging by my massive headache and where I currently found myself, I must have had a bit too much to drink and gone back to Ben’s hotel room. I stumbled into the bathroom and peered in the mirror. The face that stared back at me strongly resembled a drowned raccoon. Or a sad, washed-up clown.

Either way, it was so not a good look on me.

I turned on the faucet, and while washing off my melted makeup, I spied a gold band on my ring finger.

Wait a second… A prickle of dread shot down my spine. That wasn’t mine. I mean, the finger was, but why was there a ring on it? People usually only wore a ring on that finger when they got ma—

A beat passed before I sprinted back to the bed, where Ben still slept soundly. I scrambled across it, searching blindly under the sheets before pulling his left hand out from underneath the covers.

No. No. Infinity times no!

Horrified, I placed my trembling left hand next to his. Identical gold rings. That could only mean…

More images flashed through my mind, clearer this time.

A small white chapel with pink bedazzled doors.

Elvis-themed stained-glass windows.

And a bald man in a white jumpsuit pronouncing us man and wife.

We got married… in Vegas?

My stress levels shot up faster than an exponential curve, and I dropped Ben’s hand, feeling like I was about to simultaneously faint and throw up. This couldn’t be happening. Reckless people jumped into marriage, not people like me. With trembling hands, I all but toppled from the bed and grabbed my purse from the floor. Folded inside was the incriminating document.

Love Me Tender Chapel. Quinn Mitchell and Benjamin Knight are united in marriage as husband and wife…

I reread the printed script over and over, struggling to put the words together in a meaningful way. Husband? Wife? This had to be fake, a fun photo-op setup for visitors who wanted a taste of the Vegas experience. I pulled out my phone and typed in the chapel’s name. A pair of pixelated Elvis cupids flew across their homepage.

See? I relaxed slightly. This was all a huge misunderstanding. With such an awful website, the certificate wasn’t real. Plus, logically, two people couldn’t get married on a whim. There was paperwork to file, which clearly I didn’t do because I was too drunk. I scrolled through their FAQ page.

Q: Are you a real chapel?

A: This ain’t no heartbreak hotel. It’s the real deal.

I CHUCKLED AT THE ANSWER. Well, sure, they might be a chapel. But that didn’t mean they could legally marry two people straight off the street.

Q: I want to get married today. Do I need to apply for a marriage license?

A: No need to get all shook up. We’re a full-service stop. So grab your blue suede shoes, swing on by, and get married today! We’ll sort all the paperwork for you.

Q: Is this marriage considered legal outside of the state?

A: Yes. Our resident Elvis may be a hunka hunka burning love, but he is also a registered wedding officiant in the state of Nevada. No need to get remarried! Your happily ever after is guaranteed forever.

FOREVER? The ground swayed beneath me as my entire world came crashing down. I was really married. By fake-Elvis. To a man that I’d met only yesterday.

“Quinn?” A sleepy Ben watched me from the bed, the light from the window giving his boyish face an almost angelic glow. “Morning.” He sat up and stretched, the sheet falling away to reveal a perfectly chiseled chest.

Did I say angelic? I meant devilish; the man was pure walking temptation. Was that why I married him? Because drunk me had a thing for guys who looked like marble statues come to life? “Can you not do that right now?” I needed to figure out how to fix this problem, which meant no distractions.

“Do what?”

“That.” I waved a hand in his direction.

His mouth curved in a wicked smirk. “Um, you just pointed to all of me.”

“Precisely.” I took one last look at his anatomically exceptional chest, storing it in my memory before turning around. “Put those pectoralis muscles away. We need to talk.” Ben’s muscles were screwing with my brain. It was like holding a magnet to a compass needle: my thoughts kept spinning and spinning.

Pecs. Pecs. Pecs.

Focus! Remember yesterday’s bad decision. I turned back to him and thrust out our marriage certificate. “Look at what our inebriated selves did last night. We’re walking examples of what not to do in Vegas.”

Ben took the certificate from my hands and studied it.

“Yes. We got drunk.” My voice rose to a hysterical shriek. “And, yes, Elvis and Priscilla married us.”

As I said those appalling words out loud, more memories flooded my mind. Ben and I had opted for the wedding duo package, which included pink champagne and rings. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my camera roll. There was a photo of us in front of the chapel. I stood, grinning wildly, while Ben stared at me with what looked like adoration. And a dozen more pictures of me walking down the aisle of a very pink chapel.

I paused at a photo of us kissing and blushed.

We even… kissed? Did I enjoy it? I sure looked like I did.

But I could remember nothing from that moment.

Maybe it was for the best.

Ben got out of bed and came to stand behind me as I stared down at the image. “That’s a cute photo.”

His lips grazed my ear, and I shooed him away, trying to ignore how he made me feel all tingly inside. I guess my body subconsciously remembered the kiss. “Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”

It’s often said that daughters tend to follow in their mother’s footsteps, but this wasn’t part of my plan. Mom married in her early twenties. I was twenty-three now, a senior in college. I was set to attend law school next fall, not pick out wedding china.

Before Ben could answer, someone pounded on the bedroom door. “Ben? Are you up yet? Do you want to grab breakfast together?”

Aiden! I dropped my phone on the bed and ran to hide behind Ben. No one could find out what happened last night. I was a responsible, respectable person. Responsible, respectable people didn’t get married to strangers on a whim.

The door clicked open, and I pressed my forehead against Ben’s back, hoping that Aiden wouldn’t see me.

A faint scent of the ocean filled my nostrils and against my better judgement, I leaned in closer and inhaled. Ugh. How was it fair that Ben smelled amazing after our night of drinking, whereas I stank like an old wine distillery.

Aiden coughed. “Sorry. Didn’t realize you had company. Just seeing if you wanted to get breakfast together. Your friend is invited as well.”

Ben turned toward me slightly and I crouched even lower. “Do you want to eat? They serve really fluffy chocolate chip pancakes and the coffee’s pretty decent.”

Pancakes… when we were in the middle of a crisis? Could he hear the words coming out of his mouth? “No, thank you,” I hissed into his muscled back. “I can’t eat and neither can you. We need to talk privately about the you-know-what that happened you-know-when.”

One. Four. Nine. Sixteen. Twenty-five.

OK. So I stunk at keeping calm in stressful situations. Did hotel rooms come with paper bags like airplanes did? Because I needed one; I was starting to feel lightheaded.

“You sure?” Ben asked, his voice playful. “Don’t you want to meet my brother? I seem to recall you saying that you two would get along well.”

Thirty-six. Forty-nine.

Nope, square numbers weren’t helping. The man was infuriating. Was Ben serious? No way did I want anyone to see me in my current state. “Frankly, I’d rather walk through a parking lot filled with rusty nails on a hot summer’s day and get tetanus and second-degree burns than meet your brother right now.”

Silence filled the room as I mentally recounted every bad decision that led me to this point.

Contacting my father.

Coming to Las Vegas.

Talking to Ben.

Going on a quixotic quest for my ten.

Drinking what I was now certain was not iced tea.

“Um? Hello, Ben’s friend? I can hear you,” Aiden said. “And for the record, talking to my brother usually results in making bad decisions.”

Oops. Had I said all that out loud?

“Hey!” Ben protested. “I resent that.”

“I’m not sure what you drank last night, but I’m Aiden, by the way. Ben’s older brother.” I heard him take a few steps forward.

I used Ben’s body like a shield and angled it in the direction of Aiden’s voice.“Stay back! I’m aware of who you are.”

Ben chuckled, the sound soothing my irritated nerves… which riled me up even more. “Sorry. Apparently, Quinn’s not a morning person.”

“Apparently,” Aiden said.

Sixty-four. Eighty-one. One hundred. One twenty-one.

Oh, please, if the Greek gods were ever real, could Poseidon just set off one tiny earthquake right here in this hotel room so the ground would open up and swallow me? I wasn’t asking for a magnitude of 8.0, but how about a moderate 5.8?

What? It was a possibility. I read in a visitor’s brochure that Nevada was the third most seismically active state, behind California and Alaska.

I waited for a second or three, but unfortunately, not even the tiniest of tremors.

Thanks for nothing, Poseidon.

“We’re fine,” Ben said. “I’ll be down in a bit. We just have to take care of something first. It’s a funny story, really. You see, we—”

I licked his back.

Ben yelped. “Did you just lick me?”

I was as shocked as he was about that. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat if he told Aiden what was going on. “Don’t you dare tell you-know-who about the you-know-what,” I hissed.

“Oookaaay,” Aiden said. “Well, this you-know-who is going to grab some breakfast. Don’t forget, Ben, checkout’s at eleven. I hope you two manage to deal with your you-know-what by then. We don’t want late fees.” The door clicked shut, and I tore myself away from Ben’s wonderfully sculpted back.

For the love of all things mathematical, stop thinking about his physique! That was probably what got us in this situation in the first place.

I paced the room, trying not to get hysterical again. “What are we going to do? We’re married. As in married married.”

“As in ‘forever man and wife with a white picket fence and two point three kids’ married.” Ben’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

Was everything a joke to him? “This isn’t funny. I wasn’t supposed to even start thinking about being in a serious relationship until after I started working, if at all. Getting married to a stranger wasn’t part of my life plan.”

“So now you’re years ahead of plan.” He laughed when I glared at him. “Come on, Quinn, I wouldn’t exactly call us strangers. We traveled to Paris and spent the night together.”

How could he be so laid-back about everything? This sounded like the setup for a scripted reality show, not real life. “It was fake! The result of an overabundance of alcohol and not engaging our prefrontal cortex.”

“Maybe, but we aren’t complete strangers. You were very chatty last night. I learned that you have a younger sister named Olivia, you have a low tolerance for alcohol, and you love data and the physics of pool.” He took a step closer. “I also learned a few fun facts about France, bones, and Las Vegas in the process. Oh, and your ring size is six, and you’re a real pool shark. You got that trait from your mother. She used to skip school and swindle people out of money when she was younger.”

I stared at him, stunned. Had I shared all of that with him last night? Dread twisted my insides. What else had I told him? Did that mean Ben also knew why I came to Vegas this weekend? For some reason, Ben knowing about my nonexistent relationship with my father didn’t sit well with me.

Ben smiled. “See? We’re not strangers. Not anymore.”

What was going on here? Ben was acting as though this was all completely normal while I walked along a very high balance beam—one misstep, and I’d fall. “Is this some kind of joke to you? We got married. In Vegas.”

He burst out laughing. “Sorry. I can’t keep up the charade any longer. Relax, Quinnie. It’s fake. The certificate, the photos. Everything. The chapel’s one of those tourist traps. We went there for fun. You were searching for your ten and wanted to see if getting married would do it.”

Fake? He thought it was all fake? Then he was in for a rude awakening. I pulled up the website on my phone and began reading the FAQs out loud. By the time I got to the part about Elvis being officially ordained to marry people, all traces of amusement had disappeared from Ben’s face.

“It was real?”

Finally. There was the genuine look of terror that I wanted to see. “That’s right. You and I got married. For real. That’s what thoughtless people do. I’m not that sort of person. I’m responsible.”

“And I’m not?” Ben grinned as he struck a pose for me.

I eyed his abs and forearms, my insides spontaneously combusting. No. Look away. “That’s not what I meant. And can you please put a shirt on? It’s hard to think straight with you looking like that.”

Ben walked over to the chair to grab his shirt but couldn’t resist one final pose.

I groaned. “Oh my gosh. You were a mistake.”

Ben slipped the shirt on over his sculpted abs. “I’m a mistake?”

“Yes. No. This is.” I motioned to the space between us. “Us getting married was a mistake.”

My phone buzzed in my hand. “Shoot. I was supposed to rate my mood when I woke up.”

“Let me guess. Not a ten?”

“What do you think?” I snapped.

Mood: Zero.

Reason: Made the biggest mistake of my life by marrying Ben.

Opportunities for Improving my Mood: ??? Not sure if that was even possible at this point.

I turned around to find Ben frowning over my shoulder.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry our marriage has ruined your life, but this wasn’t what I expected when I woke up either. You know, maybe it isn’t all that bad. Sometimes you have to let the chips fall where they may, you know, ride the approaching waves.”

What kind of mumbo-jumbo surfer psychobabble advice was that? You didn’t handle what life gave you; you exerted your will to ensure everything went your way. And that’s precisely what I planned on doing now. I took a deep, centering breath and held up a hand. “Give me a moment to figure this out.”

Ben sighed loudly. “Fine. You figure it out. I’m going to the kitchen.”

“What are you doing?” I peeked out of the bedroom into the shared living space. “What if someone sees us?”

“I need coffee. Aiden’s gone. He’ll grab breakfast and make himself scarce to give us time to figure out you-know-what.”

Right. That sounded… logical. But it was hard to tell what logic was when the pounding in my head seemed constantly set to loud. Why wasn’t Ben having this sort of reaction? It seemed unfair that he could handle his alcohol better than I could. I grabbed a Tylenol from my purse and swallowed it. “You seem awfully calm, given our unorthodox arrangement. Is this something you’ve done before?”

He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and then turned to look at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you really asking me that? Geez, Quinn. I’m not that kind of guy.”

Ouch. In my panicked state, I’d hurt him. “Look. I’m sorry. Last night was great. Amazing. And I had a lot of fun…” At least, I thought I had, based on the parts I remembered.

“Let me guess, and now you want to end things between us.” Ben popped a coffee pod into the machine. “By the way, do you want one?”

“I’d love a cup.” I worked better when heavily caffeinated. “Why are you making me out to be the bad guy here? This should never have happened. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I don’t even know where you’re from.”

“Sunnyvale. It’s a small town in Southern California. A few hours north of L.A.”

I sucked in a sharp breath as the icy fingers of fate danced across my skin. Sunnyvale neighbored Mermaid Cove, the town where I grew up, which meant after this sham marriage was over, there was a chance we’d cross paths again.

Zero. Negative one. Negative two. Negative three. Negative four.

Stay calm, Quinn. “Right. Sunnyvale. Okay. I just need your mailing address, email address, and phone number. I’ll get a lawyer to draw up divorce papers.” I’d take care of this, as I always did.

Ben handed me a cup of coffee, which I took gratefully. “Sure. Give me your phone number, and I’ll text you my info.”

I hesitated. Was that a good idea? Then Ben would have a way of contacting me once this was all over.

He took a sip of his coffee, studying me the entire time. “Look, I get that the way we met was rather… unorthodox. But I had a really fun night. Maybe we could keep in touch?” There was no missing the hopefulness in his voice.

I stared at the man in front of me. Tall. Blond. Good-looking.

Who was I kidding? Exponentially good-looking. Ben was the textbook definition of handsome. He was also funny, sweet, and easy to talk to. But Ben believed in love at first sight. Was that what he thought was happening here? There was definitely an attraction between us, judging by how I’d drooled over his pecs.

This was bad.

Ben, with his easygoing, live-and-let-live ways, wasn’t supposed to be my type. He had all my warning bells ringing. If we were to continue talking to each other after this, I worried I’d fall for him. But I’d never let myself love someone the way Mom loved my dad. The thought of giving another person that amount of control over my life terrified me.

I gave him my number, but remained determined to nip in the bud whatever he thought was happening here. “There can’t be any future between us. I’m attending a highly competitive law school next year, so I’ll need to buckle down. I don’t want a relationship to distract me right now.”

Ben put down his coffee cup and texted his information. “You sure about that? Do you remember anything about last night? You were the one who wanted us to get married.”

“We were drunk. Neither one of us was making wise decisions. I’m sorry I took advantage of you.”

He slid his phone back in his pocket. “Actually. Funny thing about that. How much do you remember from last night?”

I took a sip from my cup, enjoying how the hot liquid warmed my body. “To be honest, after the Eiffel Tower, everything’s kind of a blur. Guess I’m a bit of a lightweight.”

Ben rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, looking uncomfortable. “I knew you shouldn’t have had that pink champagne. Look, I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m sorry. I thought it was all fake. The wedding. The ceremony. Everything.”

Who wouldn’t think it was fake? Sane adults didn’t randomly marry each other in a bubblegum-pink chapel. “I get it. You were as wasted as I was. You don’t have to apologize.”

Ben’s expression turned uncharacteristically serious. “No. That’s the thing I’m trying to tell you. I should have stopped our wedding because I wasn’t drunk.”

He wasn’t—what? Ben’s words knocked the breath from my lungs. Had I heard him correctly? Ben was… sober? “What did you just say?”

Ben looked miserable. “You were drunk last night. But I wasn’t. I could have stopped us from getting married. I should have read all the documents, but I didn’t. Who pays any attention to the fine print anyway?”

I do! When I was sober at least. I slammed my cup on the counter and the hot liquid splashed out, burning my skin.“Are you serious?” I exploded, rubbing my burned hand. “You knew what was happening the entire time, and you didn’t stop us? This could ruin me.” What if my mother found out? What if the law school I got into found out? Would they rescind my offer because of one stupid decision?

OK, logically, I knew they couldn’t, but I felt myself spiraling. I’d spent one night with a guy and basically handed him a sledgehammer and a map to destroy my life’s goals. All it took was a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes and a sculpted physique.

“Please, give me a moment to explain,” Ben pleaded. “You wanted us to get married. I only agreed because I thought it was fake. I mean, what real chapel has bedazzled doors?”

“A Vegas one!” I shrieked. “Over-the-top buildings and drive-through weddings are two of the main things Vegas is known for.”

“Don’t forget the buffets and high-quality shows,” he joked.

How dare he try to lighten the situation! “You knew I was drunk, and you encouraged me to make a horrible decision. You are thoughtless, live only in the moment, and don’t have the simple common sense to read forms before signing them. You’re a big kid stuck in a grown man’s body. A man-child. And while you’re treating this like one big fun night, I’m the one left having to clean up the mess. Just like my mom had to when my dad left.”

I came to a halt, the comparison glaring in my mind. How could I have married someone as irresponsible as my father? I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of the hotel room and away from Ben.

“I’ll have my lawyer send you the divorce documents.” Without waiting for his response, I grabbed my purse and left the suite, slamming the door on my way out.

Last night, my life was turned upside-down and now I was about to research divorce lawyers on my flight back home. If only I’d spent the weekend in my beloved library, none of this would have ever happened.

9

QUINN (CURRENT DAY)

After a long hot shower, a quick blow dry, and an outfit change, I still made it to work in time to go over my slide deck. While the run-in with Alex had upset me, my interaction with Ben kept replaying in my head, leaving me completely disoriented.

Did you know that humans shed fifteen to thirty gallons of tears each year? He’d read the fact from his phone to cheer me up.

A snarky Ben I could ignore.

A flirty Ben I could shoot down with a glare.

But a kind Ben?

Well, I wasn’t sure what to do about that.

“AH, Quinn. Ready to win us a new client?” Steven asked as I walked from my office to the conference room.

My guard went up as I studied my boss’s face, trying to figure out if yesterday’s altercation with Ben still affected him. “Yes.”

He gave a curt nod. “Good. I’m expecting excellence today. Don’t let me down.”

So he wasn’t going to mention my surprise boyfriend. Perfect. Keeping things professional was all I’d ever wanted from Steven. Together, we headed to the conference room, where some of the other team members were already waiting.

“Not sure if you’ve read the email I sent this morning, but an unexpected obligation’s come up, and I won’t be at work this Friday and Monday.”

Steven took his seat at the head of the table. “Thank you for letting me know. No, I haven’t seen that email yet. Those dates shouldn’t be a problem, but I am surprised. Next time, I’ll need at least a week’s notice to approve you taking time off.”

My stomach tightened as I took a seat beside him. I’d have given him more notice if it wasn’t an unexpected trip. And why was he making such a big deal out of this anyway? Robert often took off on impromptu skiing trips in the winter.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Steven said as Julie Cho and Naisha Kupar, the co-founders of LoveMate, walked in. In their early thirties, they’d been friends since their undergrad days at Columbia. Naisha recently got engaged to a real estate agent, while Julie had just split up with her chef boyfriend. Naisha was a vegetarian. Julie was allergic to seafood. And they both enjoyed the beach, yoga, and green tea lattes, although they were trying to drink more water.

Had I googled their names and read every article relating to them? Yes indeed.

Had I stalked their social media profiles? Also, unashamedly yes.

How else was I supposed to learn about what made their brains tick? Bright, motivated go-getters—they were the type of woman I dreamed of being. Plus, I made a point of researching all the companies we partnered with. Getting inside the clients’ minds helped ensure that I created the best possible product.

Naisha and Julie came up with the concept for their dating app after friends complained about the abysmal online dating scene. To join LoveMate, potential members had to go through a rigorous vetting process. Only those who had a certain educational pedigree and made over a specific income were allowed to join. The idea was genius, and I was thrilled when Steven picked me to take lead on the project.

I walked over to greet both women. “Good morning.”

Julie gave me an appraising look as she eyed my earrings, and I inwardly cheered, glad that I’d worn one of her favorite designers. While I realized my work would speak for itself, subtle signals such as this helped our clients feel a connection. That’s why I wore team colors when we worked with a client who loved football and why I added in Lord of the Rings references for a client who was a fantasy fanatic.

“It’s great to finally meet you in person,” Julie said, shaking my hand.

Naisha shook my hand next. “Especially since our friends at Coding Sumo were raving about your neural networks.”

My smile grew broader. That was the fantasy-loving client we’d worked with a month ago. I wasn’t the lead on that project, but I’d done most of the modeling.

“Well, you won’t be disappointed.” Steven joined the conversation and shook the women’s hands as well. “Quinn and I were just going over the models yesterday, and now that she’s made the few changes I suggested, I think you’re going to be wowed.”

That he suggested? I pressed my lips firmly together, a smile glued to my face. Yes, I’d sent the model to my boss to review, but he’d raved about it. He hadn’t proposed any changes.

“Naisha, Julie, can we offer you anything to drink?” Steven asked. “Coffee? Tea? Water?”

“I’ll have water, thanks,” Naisha said. “I’m trying to be healthier this year. Eight glasses a day.”

“Same for me,” Julie said. “Already had my cup of coffee for the day.”

“Perfect.” Steven turned to me. “Quinn, would you mind getting their drinks?”

It was getting harder and harder to keep the smile on my face. “Can’t Vanessa do that? I’d like some time to prepare my slideshow.” Vanessa was the administrative assistant we’d recently hired when Heidi went on maternity leave.

Steven chuckled. “Sorry, I guess you weren’t cc’d on that email chain. Vanessa’s out. Some problem at her son’s school, so we’re down an admin. You don’t mind grabbing those drinks, do you? We all have to chip in and help out.”

I eyed the other five men in the conference room, wondering why Steven didn’t ask one of them. None of them was presenting anything today. Robert was probably watching a surfing video on his phone right now, judging by how his eyes were glued to the screen. Couldn’t one of them step up for the team?

“You remember where the kitchen is, don’t you, Quinn?” Steven asked.

I gritted my teeth. “Sure do. I was planning on grabbing myself a bottle of water anyway.”

Since I was the one giving the presentation.

But I bit my tongue to keep from saying anything more; Julie and Naisha couldn’t find out there were any cracks in our team. At this point, our relationship with LoveMate was tenuous. Even the tiniest hint of an internal conflict could make them pull the plug on our partnership.

“Perfect. I’ll have a bottle of water too. Thanks, Quinn. You’re the best.” Steven led Julie and Naisha to their seats.

Practicing my deep breathing, I walked to the kitchen and grabbed four bottles of water from the refrigerator, debating whether or not to poison Steven’s. Why was I still surprised by his poor behavior? This was yet another way he made the work environment toxic. Last week, he cut Jonas off on a client call. Today, he chose me, the only woman on the team, to fetch water. I took a sip of my drink, trying not to let how he’d treated me in front of two women I admired irritate me.

But it wasn’t the first time someone had tried to knock me down, and I would rise above this. I was capable and excellent at what I did. Julie and Naisha would see that in my presentation. With my head held high, I strode back into the conference room, handed the bottles of water to the women, and took my seat beside Steven.

“Looks like Quinn’s finally here, so we can start the meeting,” Steven announced. I hesitated briefly before handing him a bottle as well, hoping he would choke while drinking it. “Thank you to Julie and Naisha for coming today. LoveMate is our highest priority, and we look forward to partnering with you on the successful launch of your app. Quinn and I have done some really exciting modeling, which she’ll now present.”

Ignore his peacocking. Do your thing.

With a smile superglued to my face, I stood and faced the group.

The second I started my first slide, I entered my zone. Slimy Steven slipped away. My interaction with Alex was forgotten. Even my promise to Ben disappeared. My focus was now solely on the two women at the conference table and my beloved spreadsheets and models.

Like a conductor, I started my symphony of data with a slow, building crescendo. My slides were sleek and modern, explaining the basis of the project and the deadlines for the deliverables M Studios was responsible for. Then I dove into my favorite part of the presentation: the coding and modeling. I explained how the participants’ attributes were coded and showed them the dashboard I’d created to do the analyses. When I demonstrated the models working in real time, I noticed Julie and Naisha whispering to each other.

That’s right, ladies. Lean in for a closer look because I’m bringing sexy back.

Their eyes remained glued to the screen as I showed them the matches the model made. And when I came to the final pièce de résistance—an interactive spiderweb model that changed its design depending on each partner’s personality traits and potential matches—Julie took photos with her phone and began typing on her laptop.

Nailed it. Cue crashing cymbals and rolling timpani. I sat back in my seat and took a well-deserved sip of water. Tonight, I was going to treat myself to two hours of knitting, a bar of expensive chocolate, and a glass of wine. I was going to celebrate.

“Any questions?”

My colleagues swiveled their seats to face our guests.

“This is amazing,” Julie said, “but will it be ready within the next two months?”

And that’s when I knew I had them hooked. They were hungry for what we had to offer. “Of course. I just need the final body of data to work on, and I’ll have it completed well within that timeframe.”

“If possible, I’d like to have something to show our investors in a couple of weeks,” Naisha said. “It doesn’t have to be completely ready, of course, but I want them to start getting excited about the upcoming launch.”

My stomach sank. Two weeks would be tight, especially since I’d be away on Friday and Monday, but if I hit the ground running on Tuesday, I could get it done. “That’s possible, but I’d need a solid chunk of the final data set by next week.”

“How many data points are we talking about? We’ve collected data from over two thousand men and women,” Julie said carefully. “But the problem is that it’s not quite cleaned and ready to use.”

I tried not to wince. Clean the data and train the model to run it all in two weeks? That would be cutting it close.

“Done,” Steven jumped in before I could voice my concerns. “Just send whatever you have to me personally, and I’ll work my magic.”

I shot him a sharp look. What magic was he talking about? Was it the magic of passing along work to others? Or the magic of always coming in late to work and slipping out early? Because that wasn’t going to cut it this time.

Naisha grinned. “That’s a relief. I’ll send you everything we have by this Friday.”

“Wonderful.” Steven got to his feet, and the three shook hands before Julie and Naisha left.

Once they’d gone, Steven walked back to the table. “Now that’s what I’d call a successful morning. Luke, Ashton, I’ll need you working on the data as soon as it’s in.”

“I’m concerned about the timeline,” I said. “As you’re aware, I won’t be in the office on Friday and Monday—”

Steven waved his hand. “We’ve got it handled. We know how to clean data.”

“Yes,” I said, fighting to keep my temper in check. Steven was a small man, high on power that he hadn’t earned, and I would rise above it. “But if you want to get the data ready for my model, I should probably go over the specifics of the model I’m using with you.”

He barked out a tight laugh. “We all heard the presentation. We are quite aware of how the models work.”

Well, enough to follow along. But did you understand the intricacies? “With all due respect, the model’s delicate. It’s got quite a—”

“Do you know why you were chosen to lead this project?”

Steven’s words made me pause. Why did it feel like I was stepping into a trap somehow? “Because I’ve proven myself time and time again that I know what I’m doing.”

“No. It’s because LoveMate is a female-owned company. You can relate to them in a way that none of us can.”

His words were like a slap to my face. I stood there, stunned. Steven only chose me because of my gender?

“There are eleven of us here. Our group isn’t going to crumble just because you aren’t here,” Steven continued. “You’ve done your job in getting Naisha and Julie on board. We’ll take it from here. Enjoy your trip away with your boyfriend.”

A few of the others snickered and my face burned red hot. How dare he. Of course the others were capable, but I knew my model the best. I was looking out for the best of the team. Couldn’t he see that?

For a second, I was tempted to walk out of the room, away from the mocking expressions. But instead, I held my head high and tried hard to stay calm. “Fine. I’ll leave you to it.”

My voice was calm, but inside, I was a tempest. Forget what Steven said. I was qualified and capable. I wasn’t going to let his insult rattle me.

After the rest of the team reported on the status of our smaller clients, the meeting was over. I raced out of the conference room, wishing I had a close friend at work to confide in. M Studios was a complete bro show and Steven was a terrible boss.

But I wasn’t going to be in this awful situation for much longer. I closed the door to my office and pulled up my calendar on my phone. Only three more months until my one-year anniversary of starting work. I’d finish this project for LoveMate and then start looking for new jobs. After Steven’s last comment, it was clear that my time here was nearing an end. I’d hand in my resignation and never again have to deal with Steven’s unpleasant antics again.

WHEN I LEFT work at five, my phone was filled with messages from my friends.

Indie: So knitting club at our place this Thursday?

Joy: I can’t come. The boys have a Quidditch match.

Joy: We’re playing Slytherin again. They beat us last time.

Joy: I think they cheated.

THAT SEEMED BEFITTING, given their team’s affiliation.

Me: Sorry, I can’t make it either. I’m leaving for an out-of-town wedding Thursday night.

Indie: Where’s it being held?

Me: Las Vegas

Everly: What a coincidence! Ben has a wedding there this weekend too.

IF THEY ONLY KNEW THE half of it.

I’D MISS HANGING out with Indie and Ev, but once this weekend was over, I’d be freed from my responsibilities to Ben.

Once I got home, I reviewed my to-do list. The only items that remained outstanding were to eat dinner, knit, and figure out the details with Ben. We needed to get our backstory straight so people believed we truly were engaged. I was about to text him to organize our meeting, but a better idea occurred to me. Instead of talking to him in person, I’d compile a list of questions for us to answer and send them to Ben. Then we wouldn’t have to spend any more time with each other than necessary.

While eating leftovers from my dinner with my mother, I typed out the questions and my responses in a spreadsheet and sent it to Ben. A half-hour later, he still hadn’t replied.

Me: So what do you think? Just answer the questions and we’ll be all set.

Me: Hello?

Me: Hey! Can you send me a reply so I know you got the spreadsheet?

ANOTHER HALF AN HOUR LATER, I decided enough was enough. Irritated that Ben wasn’t taking me or my questions seriously, I hopped in my car to drive to his body shop. If he wouldn’t respond to my messages, I’d have to talk to him.

Time to drop into Ben’s life, just like he always seemed to drop into mine.

10

BEN (CURRENT DAY)

“We can get this back to you by next week.” I studied the golf ball–sized crack in the rear bumper of Indie’s light blue Volkswagen Bug and scribbled some notes on my tablet. “How did this happen again?”

Indie huffed, crossing her arms across her chest. “I was backing up on the hiking trail and didn’t notice the boulder there. It tore through my bumper like a hot knife through ice cream.”

Weird analogy, but I understood what she meant.

Everly nudged Indie with her elbow. “Why don’t you tell Ben why you missed seeing that rock in the first place?”

Indie rolled her eyes. “Do I have to?”

Everly nodded. “Definitely. I think my brother will find the situation amusing.”

“Fine.” Indie sighed. “I hit the rock because a spider jumped on my leg and I slammed down on the accelerator.”

“It was a tiny thing.” Every giggled.

“To you, maybe!” Indie said, waving her arms in the air. “But I saw its fangs of death.”

I chuckled. “Your secret’s safe with me. It happens to the best of us.”

Everly gave her best friend a knowing look. “Don’t worry. Gollum will soon be good as new.”

I looked up from the notes that I was jotting down. “You named your car after a Lord of the Rings character?”

“Why not? My car is hobbit-sized. Plus, Gollum was the most misunderstood character in the series.” Indie patted the hood of her vintage vehicle. “Did you hear that, my precious? I’m leaving you in capable hands.”

I snorted as I typed a few more notes on my tablet. “Come on inside. I’ll print you out a receipt.” We crossed the parking lot and headed into my shop, where Andre and Paul were working on a 1964 Pontiac GTO and a Dodge Charger, and Sam was busy touching up the paint job on a yellow Camaro.

Sam looked up and gave me a thumbs-up before returning to his painting.

While Indie’s receipt was printing out, Joy walked in with Aiden.

Funny. What were the chances of two of Everly’s friends showing up at the shop on the same day? “This is turning into a knitting club meeting,” I observed.

“Not quite. We’re missing Quinn,” Joy said, a twinkle in her eye.

The mere mention of her name had me glancing at the front door again. But of course, no one was there. There was no way Quinn’d show up at my shop. She had made it perfectly clear that we were to lead separate lives. But I tried not to let that affect me. I was playing the long game. Patience had never been my strong suit, but for Quinn, I’d change everything.

Aiden wrapped an arm around Joy’s waist. “We’re here because someone had a little accident.”

“Did a rock appear out of nowhere, like it portaled through time and space just to ruin your day?” Indie asked.

“First of all, it was a boulder,” Everly said. “And oh my gosh, Joy. Did a bird hit your car again? Or did you hit a dog on a walk?” She pressed a hand to her mouth, shocked by the thought.

Penny, my four-year-old Goldendoodle, perked up at the mention of a walk. I leaned over and rubbed behind her ears. “Not yet,” I murmured. “After we’re done here, I’ll take you for one. But not now.” I didn’t usually bring her to work, but since I was going away for a whole weekend, I wanted to spend as much time as possible with her before I left.

Penny pulled away from me and walked over to lick Joy’s hand. Joy bent down to pet her. “None of the above. I was racing to school, and a squirrel ran in front of my car, so I swerved to avoid it.”

“But that’s not where the story ends,” Aiden said with a wry grin. “Joy’s car jumped onto the sidewalk and scraped a pole.”

Interesting. My brother was about as rule-oriented as they came. That he could see the humor in this situation showed how much his relationship with Joy had changed him.

Joy glared at Aiden and I saw his grin widen. “I wouldn’t have lost control, except someone was screaming like a banshee, and distracted me.”

I laughed. “Aiden’s been known to do that.” When we were younger, I’d taken him on joyrides along the winding dirt roads near the bluffs. From what I remember, he had quite an extensive repertoire of colorful language.

“I don’t sound like a banshee,” Aiden growled. He and Joy exchanged a heated look; they appeared about three seconds away from fighting… or kissing.

My grin widened. See? My plans worked. Aiden was now dating the woman of his dreams. And the same would happen for me. I just knew it. “Come on, let’s go check out your car.”

“Do you still have that fancy coffee machine of yours?” Everly asked as I walked toward the front door. “The one with all those functions?”

Our dad had used the same tired coffee machine he’d inherited from the previous owner for twenty years. As one of my first upgrades to the shop, I’d gotten rid of the relic and put in a premium device that also made espresso and hot chocolate.

Sam left the car he was working on. “You go ahead, Ben. I’ll show them where the cookies are and how to use the machine. You can’t just push the buttons willy-nilly. You need a gentle touch.”

“We’ll be sure to channel our inner Joy then,” Indie said with a snicker.

“I am gentle!” Joy paused before muttering, “To squirrels, at least.”

Aiden kissed her on the forehead. “Of course you are. No doubt that squirrel’s back in its nest right now, telling its family all about your lightning-fast reflexes.”

I called for Penny to join me so she could get some fresh air, but ever a sucker for a treat, she followed Sam, Indie, and Everly instead, probably assuming that one of them would drop a few crumbs. I followed Aiden and Joy outside.

Joy gestured to her older model Camry. “Can you fix it?”

I eyed the scratch along the passenger’s side. “Good thing you brought it in. This would’ve rusted. The shop’s busy, but I’ll have it ready for you in one week.”

Joy heaved a sigh of relief and handed me a set of keys. “Perfect. Now I’d also love a cup of hot chocolate to settle my nerves.”

“Be my guest.” I noted the make and model of her car. “Give me a minute, and I’ll print your receipt.”

Joy headed back inside, leaving Aiden and me alone.

“So, you screamed like a banshee?” I eyed my older brother with amusement. “As I recall, you used to freak out whenever I drove you too.”

Aiden scowled, presumably remembering all our near-death experiences. “I respect speed limits. You never did. And I was a manly banshee.”

“Pretty sure all banshees are female.”

“Who made you the expert on Irish folklore? Male banshees exist. They’re just extremely rare.”

“Mm-hmm.” I headed back inside to grab Joy’s receipt. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Aiden followed me to the counter and adjusted the Star Wars mug I used to hold my pens so Darth Vader’s image faced him. “That’s Joy’s second squirrel-related incident this month. Last week, Ink brought a squirrel into the house. That cat’s always bringing Joy ‘gifts.’ Most of the time, the animals are too far gone, but after Ink put it at Joy’s feet, this little guy got up and scurried away. Ever see a squirrel fake its own death?” Aiden shook his head. “The boys saw everything. Jasper started crying, and Leo wanted to know how to organize an animal funeral.”

I loved that kid. Leo was the only first grader I knew who was fascinated by magic, wizards… and cemeteries.

Aiden’s phone buzzed, and the smile immediately fell from his face when he saw who was calling. “Hello, Jean? What did you find out about the DeFrancos?” He took the phone call outside. As a detective in Sunnyvale’s burglary unit, Aiden was most likely working on another case.

I placed Joy’s receipt on the counter and tagged her keys. My cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

Unknown number: Hey. This is Melody. I got your number from Stacy.

Unknown number: You free to meet up this Friday?

Me: Can’t. Put the word out. I’m no longer doing this. I’m engaged.

Unknown number: Right. Let me know when you’re available.

THEY NEEDED to stop contacting me. I’d started telling women several months ago that I was done. But those desperate for love wouldn’t listen. It was frustrating, but I couldn’t completely blame them when I too was hoping to convince Quinn to give me a second chance.

The bell above the front door rang, and Quinn walked in, as if my thoughts had summoned her. Gone was her adorable nerdy T-shirt and yellow leggings. Instead, she wore a light gray sweater with a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. As she did every time I saw her, Quinn took my breath away.

She paused at the front door, surveying the shop. I stood taller, waiting in anticipation for her to take everything in. What would she think of the place? Would she see how much work went into remodeling it? After our trip to Vegas, I’d returned, heartbroken and shaken. I’d fallen for Quinn, and hated that I’d hurt her. She was right, I should have read the fine print. I questioned everything about myself, quit my job as a bartender, and bought the business from my father with inheritance money that my grandmother had left me.

What started off as a rash career move, turned out to be one of the hardest and best decisions of my life. Flame On got off to a rough start, with renovations costing more than anticipated. There’d been countless sleepless nights when I’d wanted to throw in the towel, but Sam would remind me to stick with it. He’d share stories about how he and my father struggled during their first year too. And he also reminded me that treating customers right and doing quality work would ensure we stayed in business.

I kept at it, initially determined to prove to Quinn that I wasn’t the loser that she thought I was, but then I eventually kept going because I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.

Thankfully, Sam’s advice was spot-on. Word soon got out, and clients began pouring in. We now had to keep the shop open a few extra hours a week to accommodate all the additional work, and I’d taken on Andre and Paul three months ago to tackle all the custom paint jobs and wraps alone.

Quinn took another step forward, as if unsure what to do. Andre glanced up and nudged Paul. Both men grinned and straightened up, wanting to play their part in welcoming our gorgeous guest.

Get in line, guys. I’ve been waiting for this customer for over a year.

Andre and Paul were valued employees, but I’d fire them in an instant if either of them made a move on Quinn.

“Quinnie! To what do I owe this pleasure?” My mouth curled into a smile when I noticed my ring on her finger. So she was keeping up her end of the bargain. Good. That deserved a reward on my part. Perhaps I should ease up on those nicknames she hated so much.

She sighed. “Please don’t make a big deal of this. I can’t handle your teasing today.”

I immediately went on high alert. Usually, Quinn had her claws out. Why did she sound so unsure of herself? “Did something happen?” I growled. Was it someone at work? Did I need to head back to her office and talk to Steven about workplace consent?

Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “I handled it,” she said, her voice clipped. “I’m here because we need to talk. About you-know-what.”

Ah. She was here to hash out the details of our arrangement. I glanced over at Andre and Paul, but they had returned to working on their cars, no longer paying Quinn any attention once I made it known I’d be the one helping her.

“Sorry, but now isn’t a good time. Text me another time to meet.” I paused, momentarily distracted from the woman in front of me. Was that Beyoncé I heard coming from the other room? Trust Joy to turn it into a party.

“No. I don’t want to text you later. I want to get this over with. Now.” There was a steely edge to her voice.

Good for her, standing up for what she wanted. Unfortunately, now wasn’t the best time. I eyed the door to the back room. “You should go. I’ll message you later.”

Quinn shook her head. “Your shop doesn’t seem too busy right now, and it’ll only take us a few minutes to set some ground rules.” She pulled out her phone, a sure sign she was ready to get to work. “I created a spreadsheet with questions we need to answer—when and how we met, where our first date was, what we like most about each other, et cetera. My answers are in one column. You type your answers next to mine, and we’ll memorize each other’s responses, so we’ll be ready by Friday.”

Now she’d piqued my interest. “What do you like most about me? Is it the way I shower you with clever nicknames?”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “No. It’s the way you rope me into doing things I don’t want to do.”

I chuckled, knowing I’d walked straight into that one. “Well, I’m sorry, but you failed this assignment. You’re meant to say something nice about me.”

Quinn sighed. “I’m kidding. I said that I like your appearance. It’s… acceptable.”

“Only acceptable?” Judging by her reddening cheeks, she was lying. I stepped closer, loving how that made her breath hitch. “I’m not sure you’d marry someone you found only acceptable looking.”

“Fine.” She huffed. “You’re more than acceptable looking. To some.”

“Only some?”

“It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that you’re handsome.,” she snapped. “I’ve seen women get whiplash from looking at you.”

So she had noticed. Good. “But still. My appearance? That’s so superficial. There must be something else about me you find attractive.” My words were teasing, but inside, I held out the tiniest shred of hope that Quinn still felt that connection, the spark between us from a year ago.

She gazed at the ground, looking as if she’d rather be tortured than continue talking to me. “Fine. I appreciate your sense of humor.”

Which basically translated to her saying she liked my personality, right? “But I thought you found me annoying.” Risking it all, I took a step closer and brushed my hand against hers.

Quinn’s eyes widened, and she pushed me away. “It’s a lie, Ben. Just like our entire relationship is a lie.”

“Right. Of course.” Too far. I’d pushed her too far. I slipped my hand in my pocket. This was never going to work. What had I expected to happen? That Quinn would forget our past so easily?

I paused and listened. The break room had gone quiet.

Uh-oh. That meant they were done with their hot chocolate festivities. “You should go. Thanks for coming up with the questions. I promise to type in my answers tonight.” I tried angling her toward the door, but Quinn stood her ground.

“Why do men do that? You think you can just dismiss me whenever you want?”

“No. That’s not what I’m trying to do,” I said carefully. “I just don’t want anyone to find out about us. Everly, Indie, and Joy are—

“Never going to hear about our arrangement. Agreed. And I’ve changed my mind. I want to discuss the details now. If we’re going to pretend to be engaged, then you have to take this assignment seriously and not embarrass me.”

“Did someone say engaged?” Indie strolled out into the workroom, and Quinn’s face paled.

Accusation burned in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me Indie was here?” she whispered.

I’d tried. I should have told her earlier, but I’d been distracted. “Technically, Indie’s not the only one here.”

Quinn tried to hide her left hand behind her back, but Indie seized hold of her wrist and pulled it up to stare at the ring. “Everly! Joy! Come out here. Our girl’s been hiding something from us. Geez. That’s gorgeous. How big is this rock? Who’s the lucky guy?”

Quinn’s face grew paler with each passing second. She tugged her hand away and stared at me with panicked eyes. Help.

An overwhelming urge to protect her rose in my chest. I wanted Quinn to be mine, but not if it meant embarrassing her in front of her friends. “It’s my ring,” I slid in smoothly. “I’ve been invited to a wedding, and Quinn’s agreed to be my date.”

Indie looked between Quinn and me. Her expression was like an open book, you could read the confusion there. “Hang on. Back up the crazy train. You two are going on a date… together? Why do you need to pretend to be engaged to each other?”

“And why would Quinn agree to help you out?” Joy walked in, carrying a cup of hot chocolate in her hand. Everly followed behind. “It’s common knowledge that you two can’t be in each other’s presence without a fight breaking out.”

“We’re not that bad,” I said at the same time as Quinn said, “You’re right.”

“See?” Joy said. “My point exactly.”

“Quinn!” Sam joined us in the workroom with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here. Looks like you could use a hot chocolate.”

As the other women’s assessing gazes seared my skin, I held up two fingers. “Make that two, Sam.”

He gave me a knowing look. “On it, boss.”

Quinn still looked pale, and I almost wished I could take it all back. Our arrangement. The way I forced her hand. I’d wanted to spend time with her, to show her I cared, but now I began to question the way that I went about doing things. I placed a hand on the small of her back and gently guided her to the seat behind the counter. “Sorry about this,” I murmured in her ear. “Guess I didn’t think this through.”

“That’s always been the problem with you, Ben,” she muttered. “You never think ahead. You never consider the consequences for other people.”

I flinched, hating that she still saw me through that lens and hating even more that she was right. I should have told her up front that her friends were here, but instead, I was selfish, wanting to keep her near for just a while longer.

No more. I resolved to take care of Quinn now. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll explain.”

Quinn must have been in shock because she took a seat without uttering another word.

I turned to the other three women, now giving me murderous looks. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Are you blackmailing her?” Indie asked. “Quinn, blink twice if Ben is holding you hostage and forcing you to go with him.”

Quinn sat there like a statue, unmoving. I stepped in. “Lacey’s invited me to her wedding this weekend.”

“Wasn’t she one of your best friends in high school?” Everly asked. “Didn’t you two date?”

“She was. And we did, about a year ago. Lace’s marrying Anderson.”

Quinn bit her lower lip, and I could see her doing the math in her head. From her point of view, I’d dated Lacey straight after we divorced.

Wait! I wanted to explain everything, to tell her that I hadn’t immediately started seeing other people. But if I did that, I’d have to tell her everything, and I still wasn’t ready to tell Quinn all the details. Not yet.

“So you’re taking Quinn to the wedding because you want to show Lacey you’ve moved on?” Indie asked.

“Something like that,” I lied.

Joy sipped her hot chocolate. “Please. Everybody knows Ben’s moved on… numerous times.”

Of course they’d think that. I’d gone out on dozens of dates. They just didn’t know why. “I know I’ve had the reputation of being—“

“Friendly,” Everly said.

“A player,” Joy said.

“A serial dater.” Indie shrugged. “But there’s no shame in the game.”

I ran a hand through my hair. Shoot. This wasn’t going how I wanted it to go. I didn’t care what others thought of me, but I hated how Quinn looked at me now, as if I enjoyed dating casually when the truth was far from that. “Whatever my perceived history, I’m different now.” Please believe me. “No more dating around.”

“And I’m supposed to prove that you’re reformed?” Quinn finally spoke. “Somehow, I managed to turned Ben Knight into a monogamist?” She said the term as though it were impossible.

If only she knew. I hadn’t had feelings for anyone else since meeting her. Every other woman I’d gone out with paled in comparison. Quinn was a shining diamond. The rest were cubic zirconia.

Sam walked back into the workroom, carrying two cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, one of which he handed to Quinn and the other he gave to me. Penny, who’d trotted in behind him, walked up to Quinn and put her paws on Quinn’s skirt.

“Penny, down,” I said in my sternest voice. She lowered her paws but gave me an “or what?” look before resting her head on Quinn’s lap.

Smart dog, she recognized the best place in the room. “Sorry, Quinn. I don’t want her to ruin your skirt. I’ll get her off.”

“No. It’s fine.” Quinn put her cup on my desk and kissed Penny’s head before rubbing behind her ears. Penny closed her eyes, appearing content to stay in Quinn’s lap forever.

It made me smile, seeing my two favorite gals together. “Careful. You keep petting her like that, and she’ll want to go home with you.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” As Quinn leaned forward to kiss Penny again, Penny looked up and licked her mouth.

Dogs could always spot good people. “Well, it’s official. You’ve french kissed my dog. Now you’re friends for life.”

Quinn and I both laughed, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of how things could have been between us. If misunderstanding and miscommunication hadn’t gotten in the way. But then Quinn’s smile froze, as if she’d just realized who she was talking to. Not a trusted friend. But an enemy.

My throat tightened. Would things between us always be like this? One heartbeat away from her hating me?

“Not sure I understand why you have to take Quinn to the wedding, though,” Indie said. “No offense, but I can easily imagine her laughing in your face and dancing on your grave over this situation.”

Quinn opened her mouth, then promptly shut it again. Indie was right. If Quinn hadn’t owed me a favor, she wouldn’t be doing this at all.

Luckily, I’d been working on a plausible reason for our pretend relationship ever since Quinn mentioned not wanting her friends to know. “We planned to tell you this later, but Quinn and I have agreed to call a truce. Everly and I are siblings. Aiden and Joy are dating. We’ve both agreed to be adults and try to get along for everyone’s sake.”

“Yes,” Quinn said, seeming to regain her ability to speak. “We’ll be working together a lot for Everly and Wyatt’s wedding, and any tension between Ben and me would make the environment toxic for the rest of you. Ev, you already have so much on your plate. You shouldn’t have to worry about us snapping at each other every second.”

“How… thoughtful of you.” Indie studied my face, still not appearing to buy our story.

“So, how are you going to convince everyone at the wedding that you’re in love?” Joy asked. “Do you think you should go on a practice date beforehand to get more comfortable with each other?”

“That’s a great idea,” I said at the same time as Quinn snapped, “Absolutely not.”

Everly, Indie, and Joy watched on with not-so-hidden smirks on their faces.

Oops. I turned to Quinn to convince her that practice dates were a great idea when I noticed a dab of whipped cream on her face. “You’ve got something just here.” I pointed to her upper lip.

“Here?” Quinn made a move to clean it off but missed.

“No. It’s still there.” I reached out to wipe it off for her, but Quinn jerked her face away.

“I’ve got it.” She pulled out her phone and held it up while wiping her face.

“Looks like you missed your chance, Romeo,” Indie murmured.

Joy and Everly giggled.

“Since we’re not meeting for our knitting club on Thursday, how about we have dinner together tomorrow instead?” Indie said. “There’s this fun place I’d like to try out.”

“Sounds perfect.” Quinn looked at me, her expression back to business. “Don’t forget to send me your answers by tomorrow night latest.”

“Maybe Joy’s right. It might be better if we hang out before the wedding,” I said, hoping she’d agree.

“Frankly, I’d rather gouge out my eyeballs with a pen than go on a date with you.” Quinn’s smile was sweet, but her tone was icy.

Joy snorted but hid her grin behind her hand.

I tried to let the barb slide off my back. “Fine. Until Thursday night, then.”

The bell on the front door rang as Aiden stepped inside; he paused to look over at us, gathered around the counter. “Why does it feel like I missed something?”

“Because you did,” Joy said. “Quinn and Ben are involved in a shaky truce. I’ll fill you in on the details during our drive to pick up the boys from Marina’s.” She waggled her fingers and took Aiden’s hand. “See you later.”

“I’m heading off too.” Quinn stood up and left a few seconds later with Everly and Indie.

No longer able to cuddle with Quinn, Penny relocated to her favorite spot behind the counter and closed her eyes.

“That went better than expected,” Sam said. “At least it’s all out in the open now.”

Had he witnessed the same train wreck I had? Quinn had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with me.

“I see the doubt in your eyes,” Sam said. “Don’t fall prey to it. Get your girl to Las Vegas. Show her the man I know you are. Everything will be made right then.”

Penny looked up at me from the floor and let out a bark as if to say I’d better bring my A game.

Agreed.

My phone buzzed.

Indie: Want to go out on a date?

Me: Sorry. But you do remember my fake engagement to your best friend? I’m not a cheater.

Indie: I mean a date with Quinn.

Me: Not going to happen. You heard what she said.

Indie: About the pen and her eyeballs? Ben, we all heard what she said.

Me: So you understand there won’t be a date…

Indie: Tomorrow night. 7pm. Trivia night at Barney’s. Be there. You’ll need a team though. 3-4 members.

Me: I can manage that.

Indie: Good.

Indie: BTW, I don’t know what your endgame is, but if you hurt Quinn, I will murder you, reanimate you, murder you again, chop your body into a million pieces, and then throw your tiny man bits out into the ocean to be munched on by fish and the occasional crustacean. Capiche?

WITH A GRIN, I looked up from my phone. “Sam? How do you feel about trivia?”

11

QUINN (FOURTEEN MONTHS AGO)

Ben: I’ve been thinking about what happened in Vegas. I’m really sorry. You were right about a lot of things. I hope you know I never meant to hurt you.

Two days later.

Ben: Happy Titanic-sinking day

Ben: Just kidding. That’s not an official holiday. But guess what also sank?

Ben: Besides this inappropriate joke

Ben: I gave my two weeks’ notice at the country club. I’m taking on a new career path.

Ben: I hope you’re doing well.

TWO DAYS LATER.

Ben: Fun fact. Did you know that there are over 33 million small businesses in America?

Ben: Guess who’s joining them?

Ben: Me! I’m taking over my dad’s body shop. It needs a lot of work, but I’m excited to dig in and start something new.

TWO DAYS LATER.

Ben: I’m playing pool with some friends and thought of you

Ben: How are you?

ONE WEEK LATER.

Ben: I sent back the signed divorce papers. Do you need anything else from me?

TWO DAYS LATER.

Ben: I guess you’re not going to text me back.

Ben: I’ve been thinking about our time in Vegas and I’m sorry we got married that day.

Ben: Actually, I’m not sorry. Maybe it was a dumb thing to do, but I was following my heart, and I don’t regret that one bit.

Ben: You believe in data and spreadsheets, but I believe in instinct and fate.

Ben: The universe brought us together that night. The moment you walked into the bar, I knew there was something special about you. And I was right because not only are you the most beautiful woman I have ever met, but you’re also the smartest and funniest. I loved getting to see the world through your eyes.

Ben: I’d give anything just to talk to you one more time.

Ben: Your silence speaks volumes.

Ben: Sorry for bothering you. Goodbye, Quinn.

12

QUINN (CURRENT DAY)

“You’re going to love trivia night.” Indie leaned over the table. “I heard about it from another friend and thought of you specifically, Quinn. Think of it as an early bridal shower.”

“Very funny.” I pulled out my yarn and needles and began working on my temperature blanket. Indie, Everly, Joy, and I had just finished dinner at a local restaurant and were waiting for their weekly Wednesday trivia night to begin. After Steven’s shenanigans at work, I was looking forward to unwinding.

Why had it felt as if my boss was out to get me today? Whenever I asked if he needed me to run through my model again, he’d brushed me off, saying he’d handle it. While I didn’t want to micromanage him, I couldn’t help but worry. Steven’s strengths lay in shooting out dozens of pointless emails and taking credit for other people’s hard work, not thinking quantitatively. He’d admitted before that numbers weren’t his thing.

When five o’clock rolled around, I was a wreck, half-tempted to cancel my trip with Ben just so I could oversee Steven’s work. The only thing stopping me was Ben’s threat to expose our past.

Knit. Knit. Knit. Knit. Knit. As my fingers darted back and forth, my yellow diamond ring sparkled. I’d only be gone for the weekend. Surely nothing major could go wrong by Tuesday.

“Has Ben answered your questions yet?” Everly asked.

Surprisingly, he’d taken the task seriously. “Yes. His favorite color’s hunter green, his hobbies include surfing and playing with his dog, Penny, his favorite food is Italian, he’s allergic to seafood, and he’d love to visit France.”

Joy popped a fry in her mouth. “France? Who knew Ben was such a romantic?”

That was one interpretation of the data. Or perhaps he was trying to get in my good books, so I’d be a more believable fake fiancée. I’d also answered that I wanted to visit France again. When asked what he liked most about me, Ben said that he thought I was gorgeous and admired my strength and quirky intelligence.

I dropped a stitch. Please. What a ridiculous response.

Indie glanced at her phone. “Half an hour until game time. I’ve a good feeling about tonight’s outcome.”

“You never know,” Everly said. “We’ll need to see what the other teams bring to the table.”

“What should we call ourselves?” Joy asked.

“How about We Thought This Was Speed Dating?” Indie suggested.

Everly laughed. “That’s perfect. Oh my gosh, do you remember when we did that last Halloween? When we all thought Chewbacca was Ben?”

Oh, I remembered, alright. I was so annoyed at him for wearing a costume that matched my Han Solo one that I’d called him out on it—only to discover it wasn’t Ben, but Everly’s now-fiancé, Wyatt.

Indie pulled out her knitting too and scanned the restaurant for what seemed the fiftieth time.

A prickling sensation traveled down my spine. “Looking for something?”

Her needles moved faster. “Just checking out our competition. You never know who might show up.”

Joy and Everly shared a smile.

Okaaaaaay. That was definitely suspicious.

“Ten minutes until we start,” Ted, the restaurant manager, announced from a small stage next to the bar. “If you haven’t given us your team names yet, please do so.”

I pushed my chair back and stood, ready to inform the man of our name, but Indie stopped me and pointed to the front door. “Looks like the competition just got interesting.”

Ben had just walked in with Sam, Wyatt, and Aiden. What were they doing here? This was meant to be a Ben-free night. It suddenly made sense now why Indie kept looking around the room. “You set this up,” I accused her.

“Yup,” she said, popping the ‘p.’ “How else were you two going to have your first date? Now you’ll have one true story to tell at the wedding.”

“We’ve already had—” I was about to say we’d already had our first date, but I stopped myself in time. They didn’t need to know what happened between us before.

“Hey there, beautiful.” Wyatt, Everly’s fiancé, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Everly tried to look stern but failed. “Don’t think you can worm your way onto the winning team.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Wyatt said. “Besides, who’s to say that we won’t win? Ben’s a walking encyclopedia when it comes to cars and mechanical stuff. I’m an expert on geek and fantasy subcultures. Aiden’s good with law and logic questions. And Sam’s got our history section covered. He’s lived through it all.”

“I’m in my sixties,” Sam huffed, adjusting his baseball cap. “I’m not that old.”

Joy got out of her seat and practically leaped into Aiden’s arms. Despite my annoyance at Indie and Ben, a smile crept onto my face as I watched them embrace. Joy’s previous boyfriend reminded me of my father: he’d left Joy to care for their twin boys on her own. After all that she’d been through, she deserved a good man like Aiden. Someone dependable. Kind. Honest.

Unlike another Knight brother that I could mention.

I scowled as Ben approached our table. “Why are you here?” If I wasn’t sure before, I was now one hundred percent certain I wanted to win, or at least cream Ben’s team.

“Indie invited us.” He reached over and snuck a French fry off my plate.

I slapped his hand away. “Hey! Get your own.”

Ben popped the stolen fry in his mouth. “But they taste better off your plate.”

“That makes no sense. A fry is a fry. Whose plate it comes from is inconsequential.”

“Sure, Quinnie. Come on, guys, let’s go grab a table.” Ben shot me a wink, and I turned away, feeling uncomfortably warm. Why was I responding to him like that? The guy was a flirt. That was all.

“Too bad for you there are no empty spots,” I said, triumphant. Sign-ups were filled half an hour ago. “Next time, be more responsible, and get here on time.”

Ha. If Ben thought he could turn up and ruin my night out, he was mistaken.

Sam placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on him. It’s my fault we weren’t here sooner. Ben took me to my eye doctor appointment, and it ran late. But luckily, he called in earlier and secured us a spot. That seems rather responsible of him, wouldn’t you agree?”

Sam gave me a side hug before joining the others. I stared down at the table, chastised. They ran late because Ben was helping Sam? That was surprisingly… kind of him. This new revelation sat uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach as Ted returned to the stage.

“Are you ready for trivia night?” he asked. Everyone in the room clapped in response.

Ben caught my gaze and raised a beer. Good luck, he mouthed.

I looked away, blushing, and caught Indie staring at me with a knowing smile.

“Tonight, we’re competing for this amazing prize.” Ted held up a tiny gold trophy and we all laughed. “I know. It’s a real treasure.”

“How about free drinks for a year instead?” someone behind me called out.

The manager shook his head. “No, that will definitely not be a prize. I’ve seen how much some of you drink. We’d go bankrupt.”

There was more laughter and a few cheers in response.

“Here’s how it all works. There will be five rounds with five questions each. You’ll write your answers down. After completing each round, you’ll switch sheets with another table to score each other’s answers. Points will be tallied, and at the end, we’ll have our winner. Good luck!”

Trying to push all thoughts of Ben from my mind, I focused on the task at hand. Come on, squirrel brain, don’t let me down now.

Indie handed Everly a sheet of paper. “You should record our answers. You have the neatest handwriting.”

Everly grabbed a pencil. “Ready.”

“Alright,” Ted boomed. “Round one. First question. Who was the fifth president of the United States?”

Washington. Adams. Jefferson. Madison.

“Monroe,” Indie and I whispered at the same time.

Everly recorded our answer.

“Second question,” Ted said. “What country do the cities of Perth and Adelaide belong to?”

Australia.

“Australia,” Everly whispered. Two months ago, she and Wyatt visited the Great Barrier Reef. He’d proposed to her there.

“Third question. What does the word cynophobia mean?”

My three friends turned to me.

“Fear of dogs,” I whispered. “Cyno comes from the Greek word for dog.”

“We should get bonus points for knowing that fact,” Joy whispered.

“No one else will get that one,” Everly said while scribbling down the answer. “We’ll win this round easily.”

“Fourth question. What cake is baked without using egg yolks?”

“Angel food cake,” Joy announced loudly before covering her mouth. “Oops. I mean, not angel food cake.”

Some of the other contestants chuckled.

“Thanks for the baking tip,” Ben called from their table.

Aiden elbowed his brother. “Hey. Don’t embarrass her. You’re doing great, hon.”

“Sorry about that,” Joy said to our table, her face flaming red. “I got too excited.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Everly gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Fifth question. Who created the equals sign?”

That was easy. I waited for a second, wanting to give the others a chance.

Indie’s eyes widened. “Come on, Quinn. What’s the answer?”

“I was trying to give you a chance to think of it yourselves.”

“Don’t make this a teachable moment,” Indie hissed. “Give us the answer. We want to win.”

I laughed. “Alright. It’s Robert Recorde. Interesting fact, he was both a physician and a mathematician.”

As Everly wrote down the answer, Joy stared at me, her mouth hanging open. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“I read things once, and they stick in my head.”

Indie shook her head. “The things I could do if I had your brain.”

“Legal or illegal?” Everly asked.

Indie had a wicked gleam in her eye. “Both.”

“Final question,” Ted said. “What’s the rarest M&M’s color?”

“Red?” Joy murmured. “There’s never any in my bags. But that could also be because the boys get to them first.”

Everly scrunched up her nose. “Maybe yellow? I rarely see those.”

“Green,” Indie said. “Green’s the color of jealousy and evil. Candy companies wouldn’t want their food associated with negative emotions.”

I shook my head. “It’s brown,” I said, so quietly that the other women had to lean in. “Trust me. They did a statistical study on it.”

Everly wrote down my answer.

“Time’s up!” Ted announced. “Exchange your sheets of paper with a neighboring table.”

“Hand it over, Quinn.” Ben held out their answer sheet to me. “And make sure you’re honest.”

“I always am,” I said. “Unlike some people I know.” The fact we were lying for his benefit wasn’t lost on me either.

Ben frowned but didn’t say a word.

I scanned their responses. They’d gotten three of the questions right, but not the ones about the equals sign and brown M&M’s. As soon as the manager finished reading out the answers, I grinned. We’d gotten them all correct.

“Good job,” Sam said as he handed back our form.

The other women cheered when I showed them our perfect score.

After recording the eight teams’ scores, we moved on to the next round. The next four were trickier. Our table’s knowledge of sports was limited, and we missed one or two questions each time. As we passed our answers for the fifth round to Sam, I nervously eyed the board. Currently, our team was tied for the lead with one other: The Poker Bros, Ben’s team.

Ted read out the answers, and I studied their sheet with interest. They had the exact same answers as us, which meant we’d still be tied at the end of this round.

Once Ted tallied all the scores, he stepped back onto the stage. “Will one member of We Thought This Was Speed Dating and The Poker Bros please come to the front? It’s time for a tiebreaker.”

Joy reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “It’s you, Quinn.”

“Let’s see what that big, juicy brain of yours can do,” Indie said.

I had this. I wouldn’t let my friends down. Curious to see who the guys would choose, I glanced over at Ben’s table. Would it be Sam? He was their history buff. Or perhaps Wyatt? As a writer, he’d always be researching different topics.

To my surprise, Ben stood and glanced my way. “Well, well, well. Looks like it’s just the two of us. Hope you won’t be too upset when I beat you.”

Of all the choices, why did it have to be him? I scowled, determined not to let him prevent me from doing my best. “You mean when I beat you.” I marched toward the stage, a woman with a mission.

Crush Benjamin Knight.

Ted shook my hand. “Well, hello there, gorgeous. And what’s your name?”

“Quinn.”

The room cheered, and Ted grinned. “Seems you have some fans here tonight. Myself included. Maybe after this, I could get your phone number?”

I removed my hand from his, unsure whether it was just an act or if he was genuinely interested. The man was almost Sam’s age, old enough to be my grandfather.

Indie yelled out, “Let’s get on with the game.”

“Alright.” Ted shot Indie an annoyed look and then turned to Ben, appearing to only just realize he was there. “And what’s your name?”

“Ben.” His voice had a hard edge to it.

This time, the cheers were overwhelmingly female. I spotted Mimosas and More, another all-female team, clapping extra loud.

Come on, ladies. Where was the female solidarity?

Ben leaned over. “Careful, princess. Your jealousy’s showing.”

I scoffed. “I’m not jealous. Who cheers for you is of no interest to me.”

“Oh, really?” Ben smirked. “Nice ring, by the way.”

“I told you I’d wear it.”

Ted slid closer and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Both contestants will have the opportunity to answer three questions. First person to get two correct answers wins. Ready, honey?” He squeezed my waist before his hand dipped lower to my hip.

What was he doing? I wrenched myself away, about to give him a piece of my mind, but Ben took my hand and pulled me away from the manager. I bumped into his warm, broad chest and caught a whiff of chocolate.

Why did he have to smell so darn good?

“Speaking of winning, Quinn and I just got engaged this week,” Ben announced.

I sucked in a sharp breath as the room exploded in an uproar. Somewhere, I heard Indie whistling.

This was meant to be an arrangement between the two of us. How dare he tell everyone like that!

I’ll get you for this, I told him with my eyes.

I doubt it, his eyes seemed to twinkle in reply.

“Well, that is a surprise.” The manager laughed uncomfortably. “I hope that no matter who wins this competition, there are no hard feelings.”

Oh, there’d be no hard feelings on my part. Because I planned to win.

“Of course.” Ben traced lazy circles on my back. “No hard feelings at all. Our relationship is solid.”

A solid throne of lies, I wanted to say. But my thoughts became increasingly foggy as each stroke of his fingers set off a cascade of sparks, igniting beneath my skin.

Snap out of it. You’ve got a competition to win.

A couple of waitstaff carried over a small table with two red buzzers sitting on it. “Press the buzzer if you know the answer,” Ted explained. “If you’re right, you win a point. If you’re wrong, I’ll give the other contestant an opportunity to answer for a point. Ready?”

Ben’s hand stopped moving, and I blinked, rational thought slowly seeping back into my brain.

“Ready, princess?”

I took my place at the table, my knees wobbly. All it took was a whiff of chocolate and one touch, and suddenly, I was putty in his hands. Embarrassed that I’d fallen for Ben’s seduction, I shot him a glare. “Ready.”

“Alright,” Ted said. “Question one. Who designed the first self-powered road vehicle?”

What was his name?

I buzzed. “Cugnot,” I yelled.

“Correct,” Ted said.

The entire room cheered.

“Question two. What’s the hottest planet in our solar—”

Easy. I slammed my hand down on the buzzer. “Venus.”

“Correct!”

I did it. We won! My friends all screamed and hugged each other. Meanwhile, I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. Ben thought he could use his delicious, chocolate-scented body to distract me, but I’d beaten him nonetheless. I turned to Ben, fully intending to rub our win in his disappointed face.

Except he wasn’t upset. Instead, he stared at me, a challenging gleam in his eye. “What’s the second hottest planet in our solar system?”

Please. Planetary science was my middle-school jam. If Ben thought he could stump me, he had another think coming. “Mercury, at 333 degrees Fahrenheit, which is paltry compared to Venus’s epic 867 degrees. Earth comes third.”

“It appears we have a winner,” Ted said.

“No.” Ben’s voice rang out over the cheering. “Keep going. Finish the game. Ask your final question.”

A murmur ran through the crowd as everyone questioned why Ben would demand that we continue when there was no chance their team could win.

“You lose,” I said, with no uncertain amount of joy. “Even if you answer the last question correctly, I win.”

Ben gave a shrug, his expression unreadable. “I know. But humor me anyway.”

Ted chuckled uncomfortably. “Is this a lovers’ quarrel?”

“No,” I spat out. This was most certainly not that.

Ted raised his hand and the room fell silent. “That’s fine. We have the time to accommodate this unusual request. Here’s the final question.” Ted cleared his throat and paused dramatically. “What do you call the location on a ball that, when struck, produces the maximum amount of forward momentum?”

Simple. I pressed the buzzer. “The sweet spot,” I said triumphantly and turned to Ben. “Are you happy now? I answered all three questions before you. I. Won.”

Only then did I realize that his hand was nowhere near his buzzer. Ben simply stood there, staring at me, while the room erupted in cheers once again. His gaze never once wandered, even when Indie stood up and yelled, “We are the Trivia Queens of the Universe.”

I licked my suddenly dry lips and shakily thrust out my hand. Just what was Ben playing at now? The way he stared at me, you’d have thought I was the only person in the room. “Good try,” I murmured.

His hand captured mine, holding me in place. “Congratulations, sweet Quinn, you won.”

The ground tilted beneath my feet. Ben’s words were rough, like sandpaper, and his gaze was like fire, scorching everything in its path.

Snap out of it, the small still-functioning logical part of my brain yelled.

Ben’s hand released mine, and as he left the stage to join the other guys, I stared at my palm in confusion, remembering how warm his skin felt against mine. A soft sigh of longing escaped my lips and something blossomed inside me.

Was I starting to like…

Don’t fall for it. Remember what happened last time. You’ll only get your heart broken like before.

“Girl, I knew you’d do it!” Joy squealed as she wrapped her arms around one of mine. I grinned, trying to ignore the part of me that still wondered why Ben wanted to keep playing even though I’d already won.

Indie walked over with Everly. “Now we have to come to every trivia night to continue our winning streak.” Indie said as she joined us. “No one must usurp our crown.”

“Whoa there,” Everly said. “Let’s rein in the plans for world domination. This is supposed to be a fun and friendly competition.”

“Well, it was definitely fun.” Indie waggled her eyebrows. “And I’m looking forward to getting friendly with Mr. Glasses over there.”

I looked over to where she was pointing. A member of Team Name Pending, wearing a “Mordor Fun Run” T-shirt, waved back.

“Can I come over to your place tomorrow and hang out?” Indie asked. “I can help you pack.”

“Sure.” Ben was picking me up at six, which meant she could come over around five.

After being congratulated by several contestants from other teams, I grabbed my purse from the table, and headed out to the parking lot. Surprisingly, Ben and Sam were waiting outside. Remembering my earlier reaction to Ben’s touch, I lowered my head and quickened my pace.

“Hold on a minute, Quinn.”

Busted. What did he want to talk to me about? We’d already shared everything necessary in my spreadsheet; the last thing I needed was a repeat of whatever happened before.

“Go on ahead.” Ben passed Sam the keys. “I’ll catch up to you in a minute.”

“Stay, Sam,” I pleaded. “Please.”

“I’ll leave you two alone. Night, Quinn.” Sam waved and walked away.

As Ben jogged over, I tried not to notice how good he looked tonight. In the midst of the competition, I’d focused only on winning. But now that we were alone together, I couldn’t help but notice how his T-shirt molded to his body and remember how good it felt to be held against his chest. Ben slowed as he approached, a slight swagger in his step that I found myself responding to.

Whoa there. Time to fight physical attraction with science. The appeal of Ben’s broad shoulders, well-developed chest, and muscular arms dated back to prehistoric caveman times, when men were hunters and women gatherers. My parasympathetic nervous system overreacted to his appearance due to evolutionary science.

That’s all that was going on here: evolutionary science. Nothing more.

Ben eyed the golden cup in my hand. “Wow. Up close the trophy is even tinier than I thought. Thanks for stopping for me.”

“It’s the least I could do for my fiancé.”

He slid his hands into his jean pockets, appearing strangely nervous. “Right. Sorry for pulling that one out. I saw Ted’s hands on you and just reacted.”

“You told everyone that we were in a serious relationship. I get that you were trying to protect me. But stuff like this happens. And as I’ve said a million times before, I can handle it.”

“Doesn’t mean you should have to deal with it on your own.” Ben exhaled loudly. “Look, I wanted to talk. I didn’t ask you to wait so we could fight.”

Seemed that fighting was all we were good at. For some reason, that thought made me sad. “Is there something else you need to tell me about our trip? Or are you just making sure I’ll still come? Because I will. I gave my word.”

“No. It’s nothing like that. I… I wanted to tell you I knew the answer to the last question. The one about the sweet spot.”

My shoulders tightened as my defenses shot up. Why was he telling me this? “Are you hinting that you let me win? Because I’d already answered two of the three questions correctly. It would have been a mathematical impossibility for you to win at that point.” An uncomfortable, nagging thought took hold. “Or are you implying that you knew the other two answers too?”

Ben’s eyes widened, and he held up his hands. “No. Heck. I’m messing this up. That’s not what I meant at all. That win was rightfully yours. You are well and truly the Queen of Trivia. I-I wanted to tell you I knew the last answer because I remembered learning that fact. From you. When we played pool in Las Vegas. Remember?”

I tried not to think back to that day, but an image of us walking around a bar and stopping to talk about the physics of pool appeared unbidden in my mind. I smiled at the bittersweet memory of that one bright moment before everything fell apart. Our marriage. The accusations. Our divorce. His lies. My broken heart.

Suddenly, I was exhausted. All this fighting, all this hurt: it wore down a person’s soul. “Why did you want Ted to ask the final question when you knew you had no chance of winning?”

“Because you absolutely glow when you’re in your element.”

His words were quiet, but like water released from a dam, they flowed powerfully, threatening to drag me under. Why was Ben saying this to me now? What did he want from me? I struggled to regain my footing.

“W-well, next time you know the answer to a question, don’t let me answer it first. Don’t throw the game away. Fight me, Ben. Don’t just let me win.”

Ben took a step closer and brushed his fingertips against my cheek with a touch as light as butterfly wings. “I will fight,” he murmured. “Always. And only for the things that matter.” And then, his touch was gone, leaving me with a crater-sized ache in my heart.

My emotions scattered like dandelion seeds dispersing in the wind. I felt horribly… lost. What started out as a slight tremor had now manifested into a full shift. Somehow, the dynamics between us were changing again, and I wanted nothing more than to have the aggravating, teasing Ben back. Not this Ben, who studied me with a fondness I didn’t quite understand.

I will fight, his words echoed in my head.

If that were true, why hadn’t he fought for us a year ago?

13

QUINN (ONE YEAR AGO)

Sixteen times one is sixteen.

Sixteen times two is thirty-two.

Sixteen times three is forty-eight.

The drive from Berkeley to Mermaid Cove was only meant to take six hours, but there’d been a traffic accident, and now, even with the extra half hour I’d allowed, it looked like I might not make it in time for my sister’s performance.

Sixteen times four is sixty-four.

I hated being late. Even reciting multiplication facts wasn’t calming me down. I swerved in front of another car, trying to ignore the annoyance on the other driver’s face.

Sorry. Sister emergency!

Olivia was finally following her dream of becoming a serious musician, and I’d be there for her. Even if I had to inch and crawl and squeeze my way there. Our mother didn’t support Olivia being a musician, as it reminded her too much of our father. I gripped my steering wheel and passed a minivan, trying not to think about the man who’d ruined my life, not just once, but twice: first when he left our family and the second time when he failed to turn up for our meeting in Vegas. That was one of the worst weekends of my life.

A handsome face with blond hair and the most gorgeous pair of aquamarine eyes appeared in my head, and I tried to ignore it, fiddling with the gold ring dangling from the chain around my neck. But it was no use. The more I tried not to think of Ben, the richer the memories of our time together became. His easy laughter. His teasing nature. How good it felt to have someone look at me and see me for who I truly am. I remembered the way he went along with my crazy quest for a ten. And the morning after, when he threw me for a loop by telling me he wasn’t drunk when we got married.

I’d never done anything that reckless before. It left me feeling out of control, unhinged and, amid all my freaking out, I’d blamed everything on Ben.

That was a huge mistake. So many times, I’d stared at his text messages, fighting the temptation to call him, just to hear his voice. I wanted to apologize. He hadn’t deserved any of those awful things I’d said. I wanted to find out how he was doing. Whether he’d ended up taking over his dad’s business. I wanted to ask if he’d gotten any new tattoos. I wanted to tell him I got an A on my psychology project. And share that, while I didn’t believe in fate, our time together had changed my life because, after that weekend, I realized how much I enjoyed working with numbers. I was no longer set to attend law school this fall. Instead, I was looking for work as a data scientist.

But I was too chicken to respond to his texts.

And Ben didn’t reach out again.

Thankfully, there were no further traffic delays, and I finally pulled up outside Cuppa Joe’s coffee shop fifteen minutes late. No one noticed me walk in because all eyes were on the stage, where Olivia sat on a stool, holding her guitar. Micah, her boyfriend, sat behind a drum set to her right, and to her left, on the keyboard, was a girl I didn’t recognize.

Olivia strummed a few chords while she spoke. “If you know me in real life, you’ll know that I’m always humming or singing a tune. Music is my life, and usually, melodies and lyrics come naturally to me, but I found this song particularly difficult to pin down. It’s called ‘A Safe Place to Land,’ and it’s a song about unrequited love. I hope you enjoy it.”

EVERYONE WANTS me to be someone else

To drag me along or display me on a shelf,

I won’t go along with that life anymore

I need someone to see me as something more

I THOUGHT YOU WERE LOVE, the way you held my hand

Your touch feels so real; why don’t you understand?

But my heart knows the truth,

Oh, why does real love feel like this?

YOU ARE MY ROCK, my shelter in the storm

But if you’re everything I want, then why do I feel so alone?

Oh, darling, please, won’t you take my hand?

And promise me that you’ll always be my safe place to land

I WANT to love you for as long as you’ll let me

To unlock your heart, I have the key

Why can’t you see me as something more?

What will it take to show you I’ll always be yours?

ALL AROUND ME, others live their best lives

Each one of their smiles makes me die a little more inside

How can a girl from a broken family

Understand things she’s never really seen?

You’re just another man to walk out the door

What’s one less relationship or one more?

AS SHE SANG, my eyes burned with unshed tears. The lyrics struck too close to home. Dad left before either of us got to know him, and yet, his leaving created an enormous fracture in our family. Mom constantly worked, driven to prove that she could succeed without him. And Olivia and me? We had a severe distrust of men and relationships.

YOU ARE MY ROCK, my shelter in the storm

But if you’re everything I want, then why do I feel so alone?

Oh, darling, please, won’t you take my hand?

And promise me that you’ll always be my safe place to land

A HOUSE ISN’T a home without you inside

I promise I’ll always leave a light on in mine

Oh, darling, please, won’t you take my hand?

And promise me that you’ll always be my safe place to land

OLIVIA STRUMMED THE FINAL CHORD, and there was a moment’s silence before the crowd erupted in applause. With tears flowing freely down my cheeks, I stood and clapped along with everyone else, proud of my brave and talented sister for fighting for what she wanted. Micah hugged Olivia, and I was happy finally seeing them together, but there was another emotion mixed in. Longing.

Would I ever have that sort of loving relationship?

The desperation I’d felt ever since Ben and I officially divorced returned in full force. I grasped the ring around my neck, a storm of emotions threatening to overtake me.

Ben had apologized and bared his heart to me. I’d never texted back, hiding behind the logic that long-distance relationships rarely worked. I was in Berkeley, and he was in Sunnyvale. But the truth was, I was too scared and too embarrassed to reply. I’d said such horrible things to him. Now I was trapped in a lonely prison cell of my own making.

We’d only spent one night together. We’d barely known each other, and yet—

No. There was no point in dwelling on it. Whatever happened between us was over.

Olivia’s band played a half dozen more songs, most of them Olivia’s originals, and I sat, mesmerized by the way she held the audience captive with her lyrical storytelling. She was so remarkable up there; I wished our mother were here to see it.

As I navigated through the crowd after their set, wanting to reach Olivia to congratulate her, someone brushed past me.

“Excuse me,” a male voice said.

“Not a problem.” I smiled, but he had already passed. I noted his broad shoulders and sandy blond hair, a strange sense of déjà vu creeping over me. Why did he look so familiar?

Curious, I followed the man through the crowd and stopped to study him when he grabbed a cup from the counter. Turn around, I wanted to yell. I needed to see his face.

“Quinn!” Olivia called to me and waved me over. “You made it!”

Temporarily forgetting the stranger, I walked over to my sister and hugged her. “Sorry I was a little late, but I slipped in just in time to hear everything. I’m so proud of you.”

Mom would have been proud of you too.

I resolved to talk to her again about supporting Liv’s music career. Whatever residual anger she held toward our father, Mom needed to separate it from her feelings for Olivia. Otherwise, she’d miss out on seeing my sister for who she really was.

“Are you staying over tonight?” Olivia asked.

I sighed. “I wish I could. But I have to head back. I have an interview tomorrow morning on campus for a job that starts in June.”

“That data one you were excited about?” my sister asked. “I hope you get it because then you’ll be closer to home.”

“But you’ll be away at college.”

Olivia wrapped an arm around mine and rested her head on my shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Wherever I end up, I’ll still make time to see you.”

Someone bumped into me, and I turned to stare into a familiar pair of turquoise eyes. “It’s you,” Ben growled.

Shocked, I stared at him, drinking his features in. The last time we saw each other felt like forever ago and also like just yesterday. He was less than two feet away, and yet miles separated us. “What are you doing here?” The words felt scratchy coming out.

Ben barked out an angry laugh. “I’m supporting my friend. And what are you doing roughing it over this side of town?”

I winced at his tone. Of course he hates me; he has every right to. “I’m supporting my sister.”

Ben glared at me, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “Of course. That figures.” He stormed off through the crowd and joined an older gentleman in a baseball hat. The other man turned to look at me, and I swore I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

Shame coated my insides, and the walls closed in around me. Had Ben told him about what happened in Vegas?

Olivia let go of my arm. “How do you and Ben know each other?”

“W-we met at a party.” While I hated lying to her, I didn’t want her to see me any differently. “How did you two meet?”

“He fixed my car.”

“He did?” I eyed the door, but Ben and the older man had already left. So Ben had taken over the business from his dad after all.

Micah joined us and wrapped an arm around Olivia’s waist and her face lit up. The intimate act made my heart ache. “Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure.” Olivia passed it to him and eyed me, curious. “How well do you know Ben?”

“Not that well.” I only knew what he smelled like, how he looked without his shirt on, and how kind he was to a girl who freaked out on him and called him names. But we’d spent only one night together. How could you truly know someone after such a short period of time?

“How did you find Ben to fix your car?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from me.

“Micah introduced us. He’s working on a new website for Ben’s shop.”

A young boy tugged on Olivia’s arm, trying to get her attention.

“I should go,” I said to her. “Your fans are waiting for you.”

“You sure? We could hang out.”

Olivia would drop everything to spend time with me right now. She’d always been that kind of sister. But I didn’t want to burden her with my issues. Today, it was her time to shine. “No. I need to prepare for my interview anyway.”

Olivia laughed. “You always were the planner. Thanks so much for making the time to come.”

I knew what she really meant: that she appreciated me coming in Mom’s place.

“Anytime,” I said. “School’s getting busy, so the next time I see you will be at your graduation.”

“And then we’ll see each other at your graduation.”

Please don’t cry, Liv. Because if you do, I will too.

“It’s going to be a big change… for both of us.” I gave her one final hug, and Olivia squeezed me extra tight.

“Positive change.” She sniffed. “I’m sure of it.”

Keeping a smile on my face, I made my way to the front entrance. I was so proud of my little sister for pursuing her dreams. And tomorrow, I’d be pursuing mine.

Outside the coffee shop, Ben sat on a bench, typing on his phone. He looked up just as I stepped outside.

The door slammed behind me, like the snapping of heart strings. “H-hi,” I forced out.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” He eyed me with wariness.

“I know you don’t want to see me. What we had is… over. I’ll leave you in peace.” I bit my lower lip and turned to walk away.

Sixteen times five is eighty.

Sixteen times six is ninety-six.

Sixteen times seven is—

“No.” Ben’s voice was sharp, and I spun around.

He stalked toward me, his piercing gaze holding me in place. “You don’t get to do that to me again. The last time we talked, you said everything you wanted to say. You never listened to me, and then you ignored my texts.”

His words stung, but I made no attempt to defend myself. How could I when he was right?

Ben’s jaw bunched as he stopped about a foot away. “Did us getting married really ruin your life?”

Guilt dried my mouth, and I struggled to put my thoughts into words. “No. I overreacted. For me, there’s always been a right way to do things. Attend college. Get a good job. Then a few years later, meet a suitable partner and get married. I’m not the type to jump into things.”

“Anyone ever tell you to not put people into boxes? Yourself included. Just because something doesn’t follow your plans doesn’t make it wrong.”

What other certainty was there in life, if not my plans? “Doesn’t make it right either.”

Ben narrowed his eyes at me, and I sighed. What was I doing, starting a fight again? “This isn’t how I want this conversation to go. I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m sorry I never responded to your texts. That was unfair of me. But I was embarrassed. I wish things had gone differently.”

“Well, I don’t. Look, Quinn, I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. When I woke up that morning with you in my room, for a brief second, I wondered if everything that happened had been a wonderful dream because I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to have met you. I-I cared for you. I still do.”

His words struck me like a freight train and it took me a few seconds to fully absorb what he said. Ben liked me? Even with my strange quirk of memorizing facts? Even with my prickly temperament and my sometimes even pricklier tongue?

Ben’s gaze was warm on mine. “What are you doing right now? Are you free to hang out?”

Was he asking me out? Like on a date? “I was about to head back to Berkeley for an.…” My words faded. This was the worst time to start something between us.

He cleared his throat. “Right. I understand. Well, it was good seeing you again. Even if only briefly.” Ben gave me an awkward smile before turning to walk away.

The certainty that I was making a terrible mistake gnawed at my insides again. But how could that be the case? We had no future. Ben had just started a business here, and I had no idea where I’d wind up after graduation. What good could staying possibly do?

“Ben, stop!” The words slipped out before I’d even realized what I was saying.

Logic screamed that this was the wrong move to make, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that if I let him go, I’d regret it for the rest of my life. Perhaps it was seeing Olivia bravely pursuing her passion for music, or perhaps it was me realizing that Ben was right. I was tired of living my life checking off box after box without truly experiencing anything. Why shouldn’t I pursue something with Ben? Why should my emotions always take a back seat to my logic? I liked him. Everything about him was genuine. He brought out a different side of me and made me laugh.

“I’ve changed my mind. I’d love to hang out. But only for an hour or two.”

Ben turned around. His grin was instant, and I found myself mirroring it. “That’s perfect. There’s a place nearby—” His phone buzzed. “Shoot. Sorry. I know it’s bad timing, but I need to take this call. It’s about a delivery for work. Can you wait here for a second?”

“Sure.” Dazed, I sank onto the bench as I watched him walk away.

Ben likes me.

And I had feelings for him too.

My heart fluttered in my chest. As someone who’d always scorned romance, this felt an awful lot like that. The possibility of him being in my life seemed too wondrous and new. I felt lighter than air. Hope and excitement fizzed within, as beautiful and delicate as champagne bubbles.

“Excuse me.” A short, blond woman sat next to me on the bench. “Was that Ben Knight?”

I nodded, a smile still on my face.

She giggled. “Oh good. I thought that was him. Tammy told me he was attractive, but I assumed she was exaggerating. I’m Claire.” She held out a hand.

Taken aback by her forwardness, I shook it. “Hi, I’m Quinn. How do you know Ben?”

Claire giggled again, irritating me. “Ben and I are going out tomorrow night. We’ve been texting each other for weeks because we both have such busy schedules. He said he’d be at a show today at Joe’s in case I wanted to meet up. I came by just to check him out.” She leaned in and whispered, “If all goes well tomorrow, I’ll have a boyfriend by the end of the night.”

Pop. Pop. Pop. And just like that, those lovely bubbles disappeared. Had she just said boyfriend?

I bristled at the label. Maybe I had misunderstood? “Are you talking about Ben?” I asked, trying not to jump to conclusions. “Benjamin Knight?”

“Hot guy with arm tattoos who owns a body shop?” Claire tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “That’s the guy. Like I said, we’ve been planning this for weeks. Ben’s a real sweetheart, isn’t he?”

The words stabbed me so hard I couldn’t breathe for a second. I couldn’t speak. Ben last messaged me about a month ago. Was that when he started talking to Claire? My earlier good mood collapsed like a house of cards. Of course he was messaging other women. Ben was a good-looking, charismatic, twenty-something-year-old male. He was in the prime of this life. Why wouldn’t he move on to someone else?

“Anyway, I’ve got to go meet up with a friend. Nice meeting you, Quinn.” Claire squeezed my hand, then stood and walked away.

I sat there, stunned. How had I so completely misread the situation? I ran through my conversation with him again. For a few ridiculous seconds, I’d thought Ben wanted to start something real with me, but all this time, he’d been planning on becoming someone else’s boyfriend? My skin prickled uncomfortably and my heart raced. I felt embarrassed, but mostly, I felt angry. At myself. I’d refused to allow my emotions to sway my decisions for years, and within seconds, I’d naively built up a budding romantic relationship in my head.

Ben walked back toward me, now finished on his phone. “Thanks so much for understanding.” He reached out and took my hand, but I snatched it away, repulsed by his touch.

“Just so we’re clear about everything, we’re about to go on a date right now,” I said.

Ben grinned. “That’s the plan.”

How could he say that straight to my face? “Even though you made plans to go out with Claire tomorrow night.”

Ben’s eyes widened, and my heart fell. There could only be one reason he looked that way: Claire was telling the truth.

“I know what this looks like,” Ben said, “but Claire’s just a friend. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“Didn’t sound that way from her perspective. She told me that she expects to have a boyfriend by the end of the night.” Repeating the words shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. “I haven’t been in any serious relationships, but even I understand the gravity of that term.”

Ben dragged a hand down his face. “I can explain that. Just give me a couple of days to sort things out. I promise I’ll tell you everything. I don’t like Claire that way. We’ve never even met in person.”

None of this added up. “Then why does she think you’ll become her boyfriend?”

He shook his head. “You must have misunderstood. That’s not what she meant. Please, give me a few days, and I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

Wrong answer. “Save your mansplaining for someone else. I understand very clearly what’s going on here. I’m not about to go on a date with someone else’s soon-to-be boyfriend. Have fun with Claire tomorrow night.”

“Hold on a moment!” he cried out. “Just wait.”

But I didn’t listen. I walked away.

And Ben didn’t follow.

14

QUINN (CURRENT DAY)

“So, what are you packing for your romantic getaway?” Indie peered into my suitcase and began lifting flaps and unzipping pouches. “Where are the bikinis?”

“There will be no bikinis on this trip.” I folded a pair of dark-wash jeans and placed them in my suitcase. Indie claimed she’d come over to help me pack, but all she’d done so far was eat my stash of expensive chocolate and criticize my wardrobe choices.

“How dull.” Indie took a sip of her hot tea and set it on my nightstand. “You’re going to Vegas. There should be a showy headpiece tucked away in here. Or some sequined underwear at the very least.”

I scrunched up my nose, imagining myself wearing either item. “I’ll be packing neither of those.” To make my point, I grabbed a pair of comfortable flats and slipped them into my suitcase.

Ben was due any minute to pick me up for our trip. While I’d have preferred to fly because it took less time, we were driving a few hours tonight, staying somewhere overnight, then carrying on to Nevada tomorrow. Overall, our trip would take around seven hours, which concerned me. Given our confusing conversation after yesterday’s trivia night, the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a car with him for any length of time.

“Too bad the others aren’t here,” Indie said. “They’re missing out on all the fun.”

“I’m not sure packing for a wedding I don’t particularly want to attend is considered fun,” I muttered while debating whether to take the light gray or light blue sweater to wear at night.

“Is that all this is?” Indie gave me a knowing smile.

What did she mean by that? All I was doing was packing. I decided on the gray sweater and put it in my case.

“Well, I wish I could go with you. I love weddings.” Indie grabbed my cream blanket and placed it over her lap, covering her ripped black jeans and purple striped socks. “Dressing up, meeting new people, making awkward small talk, and watching a fight or, if I’m lucky, two.”

“What sort of weddings have you been to?” I asked, horrified.

Indie let out a low, throaty laugh, and began working on knitting her pink blanket again. “All the best weddings have fights. Sometimes, someone throws a chair. Or a Crock-Pot. That’s always a shame because no one likes food going to waste. Ooh! Maybe there’ll be a massive throwdown between the bride and groom. Those are the best.”

In my case, it was more likely that Ben and I would end up in a fight of our own.

“I’ll be the perfect depiction of a happily engaged woman,” I said, more to myself than Indie.

“You’ll smile and chat about all sorts of polite topics, I’m sure. But really, where’s the fun in that? Don’t you ever get tired of being nice? Don’t you ever want to stir up some trouble?” There was no missing the mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Definitely, no.” I searched through my closet and pulled out two dresses, one light purple and one gold, and held them up, debating which one to wear.

“Take the purple as a backup, and plan on wearing the gold one. That’ll look stunning on you.” Indie pulled out the black one-piece swimsuit I’d already packed. “Don’t tell me you’re planning on bringing this? Really? It looks like my old high school swim uniform. This is Vegas. Go scantily clad or go home.”

With a chuckle, I plucked the swimsuit from her hands. “I prefer being comfortable. And I’ll thank you not to unpack my stuff. I have a system in place.” I tucked the dresses into a dress bag and slipped the swimsuit back in my suitcase, next to my socks and underwear.

“Boooriiing. So what’s the deal with you and Ben anyway?”

I smoothed down my pants, not wanting to look her in the eyes. “What do you mean? It’s just like he said. We want to improve our relationship for Everly and Wyatt’s wedding.”

Indie clicked her tongue. “If you’re going to pull this off, you’ll need to work on your lying and swimsuit-selection skills.”

I zipped up my suitcase, tugging hard because I’d packed a few too many pairs of shoes. I briefly debated pulling a pair out, but decided that having more options was better. “What do you mean? I’m doing this to help Ben out. Plus, we can spend this time getting used to each other.”

Indie’s eyebrows rose so high that it appeared they were about to meet her hairline. “Sorry, but I’m not buying it. Here’s what’s really going on. You and Ben have off-the-charts chemistry. Don’t try to deny it. We all get a serious case of the honey nut feelios whenever you both are around. You’re like two opposite poles of a magnet, pulling toward each other.” She demonstrated by holding both hands in the air and then clapping them together. “Zap! Attraction. My suggestion is to just let this weekend flow, like lava from a volcano. See where all that sizzle and smoke leads you.”

It would burn me. After Ben’s confession last night, I left feeling confused. I no longer hated him, but that didn’t mean that our past still didn’t cast a shadow over every interaction. “Ever heard of Pompeii, the famous city in Italy where everyone was instantly wiped out by a thick blanket of volcanic ash? Sorry, but I’m learning a lesson from ancient Rome. Ben and I will be cordial to one another, but I’ve no intention of letting anything sizzle. I refuse to be seen as one of Ben’s women.”

Indie paused in her knitting. “Is it that big of a deal that Ben’s dated around?”

It wouldn’t be, except that I’d foolishly believed I was the only one he was interested in. “Ben can date whomever he wants. I couldn’t care less.”

“Have you ever wondered why he goes on so many dates?”

You didn’t need Einstein’s IQ to know the answer to that one. “Isn’t it obvious? Why does any guy date around?”

Indie put down her knitting and moved to the edge of the bed, dangling her feet over the side. “No, think about it. I’ve done some snooping. Were you aware that Ben only ever takes women out on one date? One. That’s it. There’s never a second date. Even with all my situationships, I’ve been on more repeat dates than that.”

“So you’re saying he’s a one-and-done guy?” If Indie was trying to improve my opinion of Ben, she was failing miserably. Perhaps it was a good thing we’d never gone out. I wouldn’t have been satisfied with just one date.

The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts.

I walked to the front door but paused to check the mirror hanging in the entryway to make sure I looked presentable. I’d tied up my hair in my signature ponytail and wore my “tangent” T-shirt with leggings. Part of me wondered whether I should have dressed up a bit, but this was only Ben. What did it matter what he thought?

“Sorry I’m running a little late,” Ben said as soon as I opened the door. “There’s been a change of plans in dog care.” Penny wandered in and sniffed my feet, then headed over to investigate my sofa.

“Hope it’s okay that I brought along a guest,” Ben said, holding on to Penny’s leash. “I can leave her in the car if you prefer.”

A cold, wet nose touched my hand, making me giggle. I loved dogs, always had since I was a kid. “I don’t mind at all. Penny’s welcome here whenever she wants.”

“And what about Penny’s owner?”

I looked up at Ben in surprise. Although his words were playful, his tone said something else entirely. My cheeks heated, but I refused to follow that train of thought. No good would come of me making the same mistakes again. “I suppose he’s welcome here too—in the spirit of our recent agreement to be cordial with one another.” I knelt on the floor, and Penny licked my face.

Ben laughed. “Now you leave her alone, Pen. Not everyone wants a doggie facial.”

“It’s fine. Not like I’m wearing any makeup anyway.” I rubbed behind her ears, marveling at her silky reddish-brown fur. “I’d always wanted a dog, but Mom didn’t want the extra responsibility. If my current apartment had access to a fenced-in yard, I’d adopt one in a heartbeat.”

Ben relaxed the leash, and Penny rolled on her back. I ran my hands over her chest, and she stared at the ceiling, seeming content to lie there forever.

“If you want, I could bring Penny over sometimes. We could hang out, just the three of us.”

There it was again: A momentary break from our teasing and arguing. Words of genuine kindness. As my insides unraveled like a ball of yarn, I breathed deeply, trying to focus on something other than how his words tugged at the scar tissue surrounding my heart. I wasn’t meant to fall for Ben. Especially if he only believed in casual relationships.

“Ah, there’s our new roommate.” Indie walked in, carrying her knitting bag from my bedroom. “Hello there, pretty girl.”

Penny rolled over and padded over to Indie, her tail wagging the entire time.

Ben handed Indie the leash. “Her bag of food’s next to your car. I also included her favorite blanket and stuffed animal in case she got lonely. And sometimes she gets scared when the garbage truck comes, so I put her t-r-e-a-t bag in there too. Thanks for watching her.”

Indie gave Penny an affectionate pat on the head. “It’s our pleasure. Everly and I love having her around.”

Penny licked Indie’s hand, and she laughed. “Alright, come on, girl. Let’s leave these two lovebirds alone.” Indie winked at me. “Remember what I said. Don’t forget to start a fight.”

After Indie and Penny left, Ben turned to me, a puzzled frown on his face. “Do I want to know what she’s talking about?”

“Probably not. Seems Indie’s been to some unique weddings.” He and I shared a smile before I looked away. Odd. Now, with only two of us inside, my apartment felt strangely smaller.

“Need a hand with your stuff?” Ben asked, his voice suddenly gruffer.

“No, thanks. I got it.”

I walked back into the bedroom and grabbed my dress bag and suitcase. My work laptop stared accusingly at me from my desk. Should I bring it in case Steven needed my help? Then again, he’d made a point of assuring me that he had everything handled. After some internal back-and-forth, I left the laptop, deciding to relinquish control to my boss. Steven could handle things on his own.

When I returned to the living room, Ben stood staring at a photo on my bookshelf.

“Is this at your graduation?” He pointed to the photo of Olivia and me last June. I was wearing my graduation robe and Olivia was wearing a striped black and white dress and a pair of red heart sunglasses.

A smile played across my lips as I remembered how excited she was to show them off. “It is. Our mom took the photo after the ceremony. I was so relieved that I didn’t fall on stage.” I met Ben’s gaze and instead of the usual burst of pain and hurt, something warm settled into my chest.

See? We could do this. We could move beyond past hurts… together.

Ben cleared his throat and stared at the photo again. “You’re wearing your necklace here.”

I leaned in and examined it. He was right. I hadn’t noticed it until now.

“Why do you always wear this? I’d have thought you’d toss it after we got divorced.”

“I-I…” Panic clawed at my insides.

Ben reached out and slid his finger under my necklace, gliding it down the length of the delicate chain until the thin gold ring dangled between his fingers.

My breathing stalled, and my tongue turned to cement. No, heart, don’t you dare go pitter-patter right now.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. I counted each heartbeat before easing the ring from his hold. The tips of our fingers touched for a fraction of a millisecond, but even that was enough to send a bloom of desire across my skin. No. I tamped down on that unwanted emotion and slipped the ring back under my T-shirt, the metal cool against my burning skin. “Did you know that men only began wearing wedding rings during the First World War? It was a way for them to remember their loved ones back home.”

I tossed the fact out like a grenade, hoping to shatter whatever was going on between us right now. Ben and I only had to get along for the trip. I didn’t need to start falling for him again.

Ben cocked his head to the side, his eyes dancing. “That’s an interesting fact, but I’m not asking about them. I’m asking about you, Quinn. Why do you still wear your wedding ring around your neck?”

I swallowed, his soft voice doing a number on my insides. My gaze flicked to his mouth before returning to his eyes. “Well, I was going to throw it away, but in the end, I kept it as a reminder of what happens when I make rash decisions.”

Like leaning over and kissing you.

The room heated. How had a light, friendly conversation led to this? “Sorry. I haven’t been a very gracious host. Can I get you anything to drink or eat before we leave?”

Ben turned to study the photo once again. “A glass of water would be great. Thanks.”

As I was about to walk away, I remembered what he always drank. “Sure you don’t want a hot chocolate?”

He turned and arched a brow. “You noticed?”

“It’s hard not to when you and Sam go on about your hot chocolate parties. Come on, I’ll make you a cup.”

Finding it easier to breathe when focused on a task, I led him to the dining room which connected to the kitchen. “Can I ask why you like hot chocolate so much?”

Ben rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “When I was younger, I got into a bit of trouble. Quite a lot, actually. I wasn’t the best at handing in my assignments, and I was constantly getting into fights at school.”

“We probably wouldn’t have been friends then,” I said, then realized how rude that must have sounded.

His mouth tipped at a cocky angle. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that, princess.”

A matching smile curved my lips, and I glanced away. Ben’s girls. The ones he takes on single dates. Focus on the plural, not the possessive. And stop noticing his rakish grin and excellent bone structure.

He truly was such a beautiful man.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I got into a particularly bad fight in middle school. You’d never guess this, but Aiden struggled in school, especially when it came to reading. I overheard some kids making fun of him one day and decided to do something about it.”

“You were protecting your older brother?”

“Tried to. Didn’t work out too well. The other kids were much bigger than me. Aiden was so upset that I got hurt; he wouldn’t talk to me for ages. And my parents were furious that the school suspended me for a week. Dad took me to work at the body shop, and every day, Sam made me a hot chocolate and reminded me that no matter how bad things seemed, there’d be sweeter days ahead.

“Thankfully, I never got into trouble for fighting after that, but I did keep visiting the body shop. Always loved the look and feel of cars. And every time I visited, Sam would make me a hot chocolate. Now it’s become our thing.”

I felt another pang in my heart. This one, I couldn’t ignore. It was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend I didn’t have feelings for Ben when, in truth, I was beginning to care about him too much. “Aiden’s lucky to have you as a brother.”

“Yeah, I like to think so.” Ben turned to the large painting that hung on my dining room wall and let out a long whistle. “That’s some piece of art. It reminds me of the paintings in your building.”

It surprised me that he remembered. “Well spotted. Actually, it’s by the same artist. I loved his work so much that I purchased this one with my first month’s paycheck. There’s something about the wild brush strokes that makes me happy when I look at them.”

Leaving Ben to study the painting some more, I grabbed a carton of milk from the refrigerator and poured it into a pot on the stove, thankful for this moment alone. My emotions felt messier than a Jackson Pollock painting. How would I make it through this weekend without doing something stupid?

“There’s something we need to talk about. I need to clear the air between us.” Ben traced the backs of my dining room chairs with his palms. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I’ve decided to release you from our agreement. I won’t force you to do anything and you have my word that none of your friends will find out about our past.”

It took a few moments for his words to sink in. I stared at the pot heating on my stove, not daring to look in Ben’s direction. Freedom from the promise tethering us together? It’s what I’d wanted this entire time. But now, I hesitated. What would happen if we made an honest effort to bridge this vast chasm between us? Certainly, Ben and I could never forget our past, but perhaps it was time to forge a new direction for our relationship, if not for Everly and Wyatt’s wedding, then at least for ourselves.

Are you sure this isn’t about your growing feelings for Ben? an internal voice that sounded suspiciously like Indie’s asked.

Nope. I’d be civil with him, that’s all. Nothing would happen between us. If they could put a man on the moon, then I could also do hard things.

I turned off the stove and mixed in the sugar and cocoa before pouring the hot chocolate into two mugs. “And send you off to an ex-girlfriend’s wedding on your own? Even I’m not that cold-hearted. I’ll go.”

I took a seat across from him at the dining room table and passed him a cup, still not daring to look him in the face. “See. We’re bonding. This is good. We’ll make a more believable couple now.”

Ben chuckled. “I suspect it’ll take more than that if we want people to think we actually care about each other.”

Good thing I’d never been one to shy away from a challenge. “Just you watch. I can do it. I can pretend to be in l-love with you.”

Would he notice that I stumbled over my words?

“Oh really? Prove it,” Ben said. “How much do you love me, Quinn?”

I looked up, floundering for an answer, and noticed a smear of hot chocolate above his upper lip. “You have something… here.” I stood up and reached across the table to wipe it away. “There. It’s gone.”

Ben stared at me, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink. I cleared my throat, horrified. I’d embarrassed him. Why had I touched his face? “Sorry. That was rude of me. I shouldn’t just reach out and touch you like that.” It was too familiar. Too intimate.

Ben cleared his throat and his expression darkened. “No. That was perfect. It’s what a real couple would do.” He blew on his drink and took a sip. “This is good hot chocolate. Once we’ve finished these, we should get going.”

“Right.” Thankful he hadn’t repeated his earlier question, I drank my cup in silence. After rinsing out the mugs and pot, we headed out.

“You sure I can’t help?” Ben asked when we walked outside. He reached for my luggage.

I tugged my bags closer. “No, I’ve got this. I picked this suitcase specifically because it has good ergonomics.”

“Of course you did.” Ben walked ahead to pop the trunk of his car, and I placed both bags inside.

Neither of us said anything more as we drove off. Not wanting to look at Ben, I stared out the window as my apartment building grew smaller and smaller and my feelings for Ben became clearer and clearer.

I liked him, but I wouldn’t act on my emotions. As a person comfortable with living life in black and white, I found all this gray space unsettling.

15

BEN

I shot Quinn a sideways glance in my car, barely containing the grin that threatened to escape.

She agreed to attend the wedding with me!

I’d noticed the softening in her expression. We were connecting, finally. I wanted to lower the windows and let out a primal yell. The date I’d dreamed of was happening. Even after offering her the option of not coming to Vegas, Quinn was still here by my side. Now, if I could just figure out what to talk to her about.

So, how about this weather?

Maybe we should go over our backstory some more.

Do you know that I never stopped thinking about you since our last trip to Vegas?

No. No. And definitely no.

Say something, anything, so she’ll look at you.

“You okay with the music?”

“It’s great,” she said, her eyes still glued to her window.

I tapped along to the song, focusing on the highway ahead. Come on, Ben. Where’s that signature humor?

Gone apparently. For some reason, knowing that Quinn wanted to be with me rendered me speechless.

“So, how’s work going?” No! I did a mental facepalm. Talk about the most boring topic of conversation in the world.

“Fine.” She turned her head so that I could see the profile of her face and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Actually, not fine. A client’s sending over data that we’ll use to train my model. The problem is, my boss is currently in charge of the project since I’m away, and he doesn’t understand how all the different components work.” Quinn fidgeted with the ring around her neck and her eyes darted to me nervously. “Sorry. I’m probably boring you with all of this. Programming isn’t a particularly engrossing conversation topic.”

“I disagree. It takes creativity and imagination to work out the kinds of problems that you do.” Truthfully, I could listen to Quinn talk about this stuff all night, and I didn’t like how she was doubting herself. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down like that?”

Quinn crinkled her nose. “I don’t put myself down. I believe I’m perfectly qualified for my job.”

“Not that. I’m referring to how you apologize for being boring when you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she returned her gaze to the window.

Oh, I was going to have so much fun with her if a simple compliment like that threw her off her game.

A few seconds passed before she responded. “Guess it’s because I’ve always been the serious one.” Quinn’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her purse. “Sorry. Hold on.”

I waited for her to finish typing before asking, “Who was that?”

“The caterer for my mom’s fundraising event. She needed the final numbers and couldn’t get hold of Mom, so she asked me.”

“You’re helping your mother out with a fundraiser?” Any event with Imani Mitchell’s name attached to it had to be a huge affair.

Quinn’s entire face lit up. “Of course. It’s for a fantastic cause. Sunnyvale Hospital is raising money to extend its cancer wing. The event’s next week, and even though we’ve finalized most of the details, questions still pop up from time to time.”

Her phone buzzed again and her expression turned apologetic. “Sorry about this. Hold on. It’s Everly. She says hi, by the way. She wanted help with figuring out the timeline the day of the wedding.” Quinn typed into her phone before it vibrated again. “Wow. I’m popular tonight. It’s not usually like this.”

I glanced at her, then returned my gaze to the road. “Let me guess, it’s the president asking for advice on how to get the economy out of a recession.”

Quinn laughed. “No, it’s my sister. She’s thinking of going on a trip this summer and wanted to know if I’d go with her. The problem is, Olivia’s kind of a bad planner, so if I agree to go, I’ll have to do most of the planning.”

A pattern had begun to emerge. Quinn was constantly helping others. But who took care of her? An idea took shape in my mind. “That’s a cool phone. How do you turn it off?”

“By pressing this button here.” She demonstrated.

“That’s interesting because, on mine, you press a button on the left side. Can I see it?”

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention to the road?” She gestured to the cars in front of us. “Both hands at nine and three o’clock.”

“I’m fine. I just want to see your phone. Please?”

Quinn eyed me with suspicion but handed it over.

Gotcha. With a grin, I slid her phone into the side pocket of my door.

“Hey! What are you doing? Give that back!”

I shook my head. “You’ll get it back when we reach the next road stop.”

“But I need it. I even made notes about the fastest routes to take and where we should go for rest stops.” She tried to reach over me.

I swatted her hand away with a laugh. “Keep that up, and I might swerve. You don’t want to distract me. A wise woman once told me I should keep my eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel.”

“Benjamin Knight!”

“Yes, my Quinnie Bear?”

She let out a huff, but I could tell she was trying not to laugh. “You are exasperating. Why are you holding my phone hostage?”

“Because you need some time off, and if I can give that to you by taking away your phone for an hour or two, I’ll do it. Take a moment to enjoy the scenery around us.” The sun was just starting its descent, painting the sky with strokes of deep orange and pink. On my side of the highway, the golden light made the mountains glow. On Quinn’s side, foamy waves lapped against the rocky beaches. “Come on, take a break, Quinn. You deserve it.”

She stared out the window, arms crossed over her chest. “Fine. But let the record show that I’m relaxing under duress.”

I grinned. “How about you tell me some interesting L.A. facts? We’re heading down that way first.” I waited while she pretended not to hear me. “Come on, I know you’re dying to say something.”

Quinn pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose. “I may have a fact… or fifty to share.”

That’s my girl.

“Did you know that the city’s official birthday was in the late seventeen hundreds? The first settlers named the city El Pueblo de Nuestra Señora la Reina de Los Ángeles del Rio Porciúncula, which translates to The Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels of the River Porciúncula.”

Queen of Angels, indeed. I glanced at Quinn, noticing how the setting sun painted her face in gold. She was radiant: too beautiful and too clever for the likes of me.

Quinn continued, her voice growing more animated by the minute. “L.A. is also home to over a hundred accredited universities. I know because I looked up some for my sister when she was applying for colleges.”

There she was again, taking care of others. “Why do you think you’re like this?”

“Like what?”

“Why do you feel the urge to take care of everyone?”

Quinn tapped a fingernail against the window while she thought. “It’s in my nature, I guess. I used to watch Olivia while Mom worked. And I’ve always preferred things to be in order. Surprises or plans left up in the air stressed me out as a kid, and now that I’m an adult, I curb my anxiety by being prepared.”

That explained why she preferred having a phone nearby. It was another way Quinn created order in her life. My stomach fell. Quinn had accused me before of doing things without thinking, and I’d messed up. Again. I grabbed her phone from my door and held it out to her, ashamed. How was she going to believe that I changed if I kept messing up? “Sorry for taking it away. I was trying to get you to relax, but now I realize I’m creating more stress in your life.”

Just as I thought Quinn was about to take her phone back, she surprised me by pushing it away. “Keep it. You were right. I can deal with not being on call for a few hours.”

I was… right? This was the fragile peace offering that I grabbed hungrily onto. “But what about the perfect travel route you planned?”

“I trust you to get us there safely.” Quinn yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Actually, if it’s alright with you, I might take a nap. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Of course. Go right ahead.”

As I turned down the music, Quinn tipped her seat back and shut her eyes. I grabbed my jacket from the back seat and draped it over her. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but it looked like Quinn smiled. Quietly humming along to the music, I continued driving, the traffic predictably slowing as we approached L.A. Once everything eventually cleared, I turned onto a more minor highway. Quinn didn’t stir the entire time. Now, with less to distract me on the emptier expanses of road, my mind wandered.

What would have happened if we’d met through Everly instead of that fateful night? Would we have dated? Or would Quinn not have given me the time of day because I wasn’t the type of man that she was looking for? With no one to talk to and only a few cars in front of me, it was easy to get lost in a maze of what-ifs and might-have-beens.

My phone screen, which I had been using to navigate our trip, flashed, indicating that I had an incoming message.

Unknown number: Hey, babe. This is Sonia. You free tonight?

HOW MANY TIMES did I have to tell them I was no longer available? I waited until we came to a patch of traffic and typed out a quick reply.

Me: Sorry. I don’t do that anymore. I’m engaged.

Unknown number: K. Text me when you’re free.

I GROANED. Soon I’d be done with all this secrecy, and Quinn would know why I’d dated so many women.

Suddenly, there was a loud popping noise, and my car veered to the left. I grasped the steering wheel and glanced in my rearview mirror. Had I struck something? At the next turnoff, I pulled into the parking lot of a darkened grocery store. Thankfully, the lights in the lot were all still on. After inspecting the wheels, I discovered the problem: I’d punctured my front tire.

Quinn stepped out of the car and stretched, still caught in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. She looked so adorable that I had an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

But that would have to wait.

“Is this where we’re staying tonight?” she mumbled as she made her way to my side of the car.

“Wish that were the case, but we’ve got a flat. We’ll have to stop in this town tonight.”

Quinn’s eyes widened as she became instantly alert. “Perfect. We’ll need to change the tire. I hope you have a spare and a jack.”

Wait one second. My tire had gone flat, which meant our plans had changed. Quinn should have been stressed out, but she looked entirely too thrilled. “I’m sorry. Are you excited by the prospect of changing a tire?”

Quinn stretched like a runner about to start a race, and I tried not to notice how curvy her hips were, or how perfectly toned her legs were.

“I did this project in high school geometry where we had to change a tire and then analyze the angles and lengths of the triangles created when the jack moves up and down. I went all out: drew diagrams and even videoed it.”

“Nerd,” I coughed into my hand.

Quinn placed her hands on her hips, her eyes sparkling. “And proud of it. That’s the one and only time I got to jack up a car.” If anyone from back home saw her now—messy hair, in the middle of nowhere, excited by a punctured tire—they’d be shocked.

I pulled my phone from my back pocket and slid closer to her until our arms touched. “Smile.”

Quinn rested her head against my shoulder, and my smile widened. We were making progress, my Quinnie and me.

I took a photo and showed it to her. “I’m sending this to Ev. She’ll get a kick out of us doing this.” I walked around to the passenger’s side to grab the car’s manual and tossed it to Quinn. “You’ll need this to figure out where to put your jack.”

She flipped through the manual before scanning a page, no doubt memorizing every word. “You can’t put the jack just anywhere because newer cars’ frames vary in thickness. According to this, there should be two notches marking the location.”

While she worked on locating the notches, I hauled our luggage out of the trunk and grabbed the spare tire from underneath the trunk’s lining. After determining that the spare tire had air, I took it to Quinn, who was bent low to the ground on the driver’s side.

“I found the two grooves!”

I leaned down beside her, putting our faces mere inches apart.

“That’s it,” I grunted, trying to get my mind off how smooth her skin looked, how close our mouths were, and how her bottom lip begged to be kissed. But it was too late; once those thoughts invaded my mind, they wouldn’t leave. I was one touch away from doing something that would change our relationship forever.

But I couldn’t act on my feelings now. Not until there were no more secrets between us. This time, I’d do things right.

I passed Quinn the wrench, making sure to keep my fingers from touching hers. “Before we slip in the jack, we need to loosen the hubcaps because it’ll be harder once the tire’s off the ground. If it’s too tight, you put your knee on it and put your…” My words died as Quinn propped her leg on the wrench and pushed like a pro. “…weight into it.”

By her grin, you’d have thought she’d won the lottery, not loosened the hubcap. “It’s working, Ben. I’m doing it!”

Was that all it took to make her smile? I chuckled. “You should visit me in the shop. We have a ton of heavy machinery there.”

“Oh, I’d love a tour sometime.”

Seeing Quinn get excited over cars was one of the sexiest things I’d seen in ages. And now I was back to imagining kissing her again. Perfect.

Quinn removed the lug nuts, then changed the tire. While she lowered the car, I took another photo of her.

She stood up and wiped her hands on her pants, beaming. “We make a good team.”

“We do, don’t we?”

Quinn’s gaze darted to my mouth and she sucked on her lower lip, her cheeks reddening.

My heart slammed into my chest. Had I imagined it, or was she thinking about kissing me too? I took a step closer and brushed my thumb against her cheek. Quinn let out a soft whimper, the sound lighting my core on fire. I wanted to pull away, but I was drunk on the sensation of her skin. I swept my hand down, tracing the line of her jaw and neck until I reached the collar of her T-shirt.

Quinn’s breath hitched and it was all the encouragement I needed to continue my descent, gliding my fingertips underneath the thin fabric, where they brushed against the metal chain of her necklace.

What was I doing? I jerked back, wincing as if the metal had burned me.

I wanted Quinn. Craved her skin and her touch. But I wouldn’t let our next kiss be like this: temporary and shrouded in lies. She deserved so much better. No, when we eventually kissed, she’d know everything about me. Every feeling, every thought, every desire. Quinn had been under my skin ever since Vegas. I’d tell her that I loved her and that I hoped and dreamed that one day, she’d love me back. I’d keep nothing a secret because Quinn deserved everything.

“I should put the tire away,” I mumbled. Too chicken to stick around to see her reaction, I rolled the flat tire to the trunk, the voices inside my head calling me an idiot and screaming at me to go back and kiss her. But I didn’t. I was doing the right thing by walking away. There was no way I’d hurt Quinn again.

“So, where to now?” Quinn asked as I slipped back into the car. I eyed her, worried that my inability to control myself earlier had ruined things between us. But she continued to stare out the window, not turning to look in my direction.

My heart sank. She was hurt.

“There’s a hotel across the street,” I managed to get out.

Had I messed everything up between us?

“We’ll stay there tonight, and tomorrow, we’ll get the tire changed. We don’t want to drive the rest of the way on a spare. We want to make the trip with something solid. Something that will last the distance.”

Like what I want with you. Please. Can’t you see that?

“I’ll look up a mechanic…” Quinn reached for her purse but hesitated, no doubt remembering I still had her phone.

“I’ve got it handled,” I murmured.

She looked at me—and the sadness in her eyes broke my heart. “Okay. I’m trusting you, Ben.”

Just wait, Quinn. Wait for me, please.

16

QUINN

“Looks like someone’s getting married soon.” The woman behind the hotel counter—Betty, according to her name tag—had curly gray hair and a pair of thick, gold-rimmed glasses. She only came up to my shoulders, but she was a firecracker. “Can I see your ring?” she squealed.

“Sure.” I held out my hand, and, with the strength of a velociraptor, Betty almost tore my hand off to get a better look.

“Is that a yellow diamond? I’ve never seen one in real life before. Your fiancé has such good taste.”

Just the mention of Ben had my shoulders stiffening as I recalled the embarrassing incident outside. After I changed the tire, Ben looked at me with pride and something more. Yearning. I felt it too. Lost in the moment, I wanted to grab his face and kiss him so hard that my toes curled. Ben knew it, I saw the realization flicker in his eyes.

And then he’d abruptly stopped. Probably recalling all the horrible things I’d said to him in the past. Or perhaps he was trying to do the right thing and honor our newfound friendship. Either way, my emotions were confusing and messy. I winced, wanting to scrub out my brain. This was precisely why I didn’t want to come on this trip. It was destroying the tentative balance between us.

Ben draped an arm around my shoulders, and my first instinct was to pull away and lick my wounds, but Betty was watching us, a wide grin on her face. So instead, I stood a little taller and leaned against him. If there was one thing I was skilled at, it was learning. I could learn to shut off my burgeoning feelings and navigate our new relationship as friends. “He does have good taste. He chose me, after all.”

See? I was a quick study. I’d compartmentalize my feelings and forget everything that had happened and play the part.

Betty adjusted her glasses and there were practically hearts in her eyes. “That is just too sweet. Some couples walk in, and it’s obvious that their relationship won’t last. But you two… you’re going to make it. Trust me. I have a sixth sense about these things. I knew my third husband was the love of my life, and I almost won the lottery four times in a row.”

A giggle escaped me, and I shared an awkward smile with Ben. “Right. So much love between us.”

Although he returned my smile, his eyes seemed wary.

I forced my smile wider. Don’t worry, I tried communicating to him. I’ve already forgotten the incident-that-shall-never-be-mentioned again.

“My youngest is getting married this summer, and everybody’s over-the-moon thrilled,” Betty prattled on. “Erin wanted to have one of those destination weddings, but I convinced her to get married locally since our family’s nearby. When are you two tying the knot?”

“Soon,” Ben said at the same time as I said, “In a few years.”

Betty’s smile slipped a fraction. Oops. “Truthfully, we don’t know,” I blurted out, hoping I sounded breathlessly in love, not scrambling to come up with a story. “It’s been such a whirlwind; we haven’t had time to hash out the details.”

Ben rubbed my shoulder, and the nervous energy that I’d kept bottled up inside slowly slipped away with each stroke. “My Quinnie’s an excellent planner. I’m lucky she took a chance on me. You’ll have to excuse me, but I need to leave a message for the mechanic. We ran into some tire trouble on the road.” His hand slipped from my back, and he walked a few feet away to make the phone call.

Ben played the part of the loving boyfriend perfectly. I relaxed. He must have forgotten the incident already. He didn’t looked bothered at all. All I had to do now was follow his lead.

Betty tapped on her keyboard and squinted at the computer screen. “You’re in luck. We have one room available. The previous guests had a late checkout, but it’s been cleaned and is all ready for you.” She smiled at me expectantly.

One room? That wouldn’t work. Ben and I sleeping in the same room didn’t seem the best idea right now. “I’m sorry, but would it be possible to get two rooms? We’re old-fashioned that way. You know, keeping the mystery alive and all that.”

Betty’s brow furrowed. “I’ll see what else we have available.” After typing what appeared to be a two-thousand-word annotated research paper, she looked up. “Sorry, hon, but we only have one available room.”

I stared at her, slack-jawed. “But this hotel’s huge. There are four floors.”

“Yes. We pride ourselves on being a spacious hotel. But this weekend’s busy.” She waved to a couple walking by. The woman was decked out in bright red lipstick and a fifties-style skirt, while the man wore a loose-fitting jacket and suspenders.

Betty returned her attention to me. “Sorry, but the hotel’s fully booked because of a festival.” She paused to wave at another group of people walking by. “You all have a good night! I expect to see tired feet and lots of smiles when you get back.”

Once again, at least half of the men had on jackets, and most of the women wore midline circle skirts.

“Let me guess, a swing dancing convention?”

Betty laughed. “How did you know?”

I pointed to a brochure on the counter advertising the event. “Guess I have a sixth sense about things too. Do you think any other hotels nearby would have more availability?”

“You can try, but I bet they have similar issues. The whole town’s busy with Swingtopia.”

Just perfect. I sighed, weighing the options. It was late, and we were driving on a spare; staying here seemed our best bet. Except for the fact it put Ben and me in uncomfortably close proximity. But if he was able to act like nothing happened, then so could I. “We’ll take the room. Thank you.”

Betty murmured to one of the workers walking by, then proceeded to type another essay into her computer. “Alright. There you go. A special room for the lovebirds.” She handed me two room cards.

This time my smile was forced. Just as I was about to look for Ben, he walked towards me. “Good news. The mechanic said he’ll look at the car at nine tomorrow morning. We should be done in an hour and back on the road again.”

I handed him a room card. “Sounds good. Also, we’re sharing a room.”

He licked his lips and glanced at me, appearing as uncomfortable as I felt. Guess he hadn’t completely put the incident behind him either. “Right. This will be good practice for later.”

A cloud of awkwardness descended between us. Neither of us spoke as we took our luggage up to the third floor, which was fine by me, because my heart was pounding so hard that I had trouble concentrating on anything else. The two of us stuck in one room. Together. Three hundred square feet of shared space. Using the same bathroom. Lying in the same bed.

My heartbeat ramped up further. No. Absolutely no sharing a bed. I’d sleep on the floor if it came down to it. It was only for one night.

When we stepped out of the elevator, Ben touched my arm. “About what happened earlier. I thought maybe you wanted—”

I held up a hand, not wanting him to say the horribly embarrassing words out loud. “No need to explain. You zigged when I zagged. It wasn’t a big deal anyway. We’ll just bury that awkward moment along with all the other things we shall never speak of again.”

“Right.” Ben’s mouth set in a firm line, and his brow furrowed. “Glad we cleared things up. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

Good. Now that was over with, we could return to our very platonic fake engagement. No more thinking of kissing or romance or…

I opened the door to our room and froze. Great Galen’s ghost. The scene that greeted us was my very nightmare come to life. Red rose petals adorned a plush, queen-sized round bed with a velvet headboard. The television screen showed a scene of a fake crackling fire. And if that wasn’t bad enough, a bottle of what appeared to be pink champagne sat in an ice bucket.

Ben picked up a handful of the fake rose petals and tossed them in the air, then watched them float back down. “Wow. They sure went all out. If you don’t mind, I’ll take the couch.”

My knees threatened to give out, but I forced myself to step inside. “You’re sure?” I pictured his large frame squished into the two-seater couch. “I can take it. Or we can share the bed.” My heart almost went into cardiac arrest as I pictured Ben looming over me, eyeing me like some delicious mystery only he could solve, some decadent dessert baked only for him.

Would that be so bad? a small, secret part of me questioned.

Of course it would be! I could pretend as much as I wanted to that I didn’t have feelings for Ben. But the truth was, I had feelings for him… too many feelings. Overwhelmed, I collapsed on the couch.

A warm hand came to rest on my shoulder, returning me to the present. “Quinn? Princess?” Ben leaned forward to talk to me. “You look a little pale. Tell me, what’s going on in that big, beautiful gray matter of yours?”

It was the concern in his eyes that undid me. Keep it together, Quinn. Ben and I had to stay friends. Nothing more. “Have you seen a brain before? It’s rarely described as beautiful.”

“That’s because no one’s ever seen yours.” He winked, and his thick eyelashes held me spellbound.

What was wrong with me? Was I honestly drooling over a man’s eyelashes?

I, II, III, IV, V

My gaze shifted to the rose petals on the bed. “Did you know that ancient Romans used to scatter rose petals in their baths and bedchambers? They did it to give off a pleasant perfume.”

VI, VII, VIII, IX, X

X out the thought of Ben being anything more than a friend.

“No, I didn’t know that,” Ben said. “And did you know there’s a bar next door? We could grab something to eat there.”

Yes. Please. Anywhere but Betty’s Den of Desire. “Let’s go.”

As we waited for the elevator, a handful of dancers joined us. I eyed the women’s bright red lips and cute cat eyes, wondering if I should have put on some makeup before going out for dinner.

Ben leaned closer. “You look gorgeous.” He said the words so easily; I could have almost sworn that he meant it.

But I knew better. It was in his nature to flirt. If he had really cared for me, he wouldn’t have pulled away when I wanted to kiss him. As much as I hated to admit it, the rejection stung.

“Thank you. Am I better looking than my gray matter?”

He tilted his head slightly and his eyes crinkled in a pleasing way. “Tough call. Your gray matter sure is a knockout.”

“You two enjoy yourselves!” Betty waved to us from behind the counter.

Ben’s hand slipped into mine as he smiled at her. “Don’t worry. We intend to. Thank you so much for the special treatment.”

I snorted and then glanced down at our intertwined hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered. “We need to be believable, don’t we?”

“Right. Believable.” The problem was I found myself believing the lie too.

The minute we stepped outside, I shivered. Now that the sun had completely set, the temperature had dropped.

Ben took off his hoodie and held it out to me. “Here. Take it.”

“You sure?” I hesitated.

“Take it. I’m manly like that.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, grimacing as a cool wind whipped around us. “We should hurry though. It’s cold out here.”

With a grin, I slid his worn hoodie on. While it wasn’t much to look at, it was still warm and smelled of Ben, almost like wearing a hug. I followed him into the bar, which turned out to be much larger than it appeared from the outside.

“Good evening,” a woman in full-on fifties gear greeted us. “You’re not here with the swing party, are you?”

I shook my head. “No. It’s just a table for the two of us.”

“That’s fine. Follow me.”

The host seated us in a booth overlooking the center of the ranch-themed restaurant, where they’d pushed the chairs and tables back to the edges to create a small dance floor. “We’re offering an introductory dance class in a few minutes,” the host said as she handed us menus. “You’re more than welcome to take part. It’s free for all our customers.”

“I’m going to order a burger,” I announced after she left. I was starving. The only question that remained was whether or not to get an appetizer.

“Some things never change.” Ben grinned, and I knew he was thinking of the night we met.

Friends. We’re friends.

“So, tell me about your tattoos. What do they all mean?” I eyed his arms, both now covered in colorful ink. “These must have taken forever to get done.”

Ben pointed to the ocean wave on his right bicep. “This was my first piece. I got it from a local artist I go surfing with. Then, to continue the ocean theme, I got this octopus and the ship.”

I leaned over the table to study the amazing artwork. “The octopus almost looks like it could climb off your arm to say hello. Did you know that octopi are highly intelligent too? They have nine brains.” I held his other forearm to get a closer look at the designs. “What about these tattoos? They appear to be mostly land and sky creatures.” I ran a finger along the outline of the raven and wolf before swiping my thumb over the leaves of a giant tree, admiring the level of detail.

The small 54 carved into the tree’s trunk caught my eye. “Does this number have a special meaning?”

Ben’s forearm tightened. “It’s my lucky number. Someone once told me there are fifty-four bones in two hands, and the number just stuck with me.”

His word threw me off balance and I released his arm. Ben was talking about me. I distinctly recalled telling him that fun fact before our night together went off the rails. Now he had it tattooed on his arm. Forever.

Why would Ben tattoo a number that reminded him of me on his body?

“Good evening.” A waitress in overalls bounced up to our table. “How are y’all doing this evening? What would you like to drink?”

“Actually, I think we’re ready to order.” Ben asked for a grilled chicken sandwich, and I ordered my burger. But my stomach rumbled right as she left, so I called out, “Can we have an order of mozzarella sticks too?”

The woman jotted down my request. “Sure thing. I’ll get that appetizer to you.”

“I get a little cranky when I’m hungry,” I explained to Ben as she turned to walk away.

Ben called the waitress back. “Let’s add some of the barbecue wings too. Just in case Quinn’s still hungry. You can eat whatever you want with me, princess.”

I fought the urge to fan myself. How was it possible that Ben made deep-fried food sexy?

“Oh my gosh.” The waitress giggled. “That is the most romantic thing I heard all day.”

Agreed, lady. One hundred percent agreed. I took a sip of water to cool myself down. “No wonder you’re so popular with the ladies. You’ve perfected all the lines.”

Ben’s smile dimmed and I wanted to take the words back. I hadn’t meant to upset him. But in my defense, it was a widely known fact that he’d dated tons of women.

Which is why I have to nip these feelings in the bud.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” I asked, trying to keep our conversation going.

“We’ll head to Vegas once the mechanic fixes the tire. Rehearsal’s at three.” Ben’s tone was clipped, and he glanced around the bar, as if he’d rather be looking at anyone other than me right now.

The air between us grew heavy. When the waitress came back and brought our drinks, I murmured my thanks before my eyes dropped down to the table.

Fix it, Quinn. I’d hurt Ben. If I were Indie, I’d come up with a snappy retort. If I were Joy, I’d just laugh things off. And if I were Everly, I wouldn’t have made this mistake in the first place. But I wasn’t funny, breezy, or particularly sweet. What did I know about romantic relationships? I’d never had a serious one before. That’s why I’d thought Ben wanted to kiss me earlier. I misread his flirting as something more. And now, I’d hurt his feelings. I wanted to do well in this relationship, but I kept making one wrong move after another.

One of the staff walked to the center of the dance floor and invited everyone for a swing lesson.

Ben offered me his hand, as if extending an olive branch. “What do you say, Quinn? Care to dance?”

“Sure,” I said, relieved to have something to do other than sit here awkwardly, pretending to be a real couple.

Ben led me to the dance floor, where the instructor, a woman who reminded me of my sixth-grade English teacher with her ruddy complexion and frizzy brown hair, walked around, showing us how to maintain a good dance posture. “Remember, ladies, the biggest thing here is to allow the men to lead. Don’t drag him around. Wait for his cues. It doesn’t mean you have to stay a silent partner; you can still tell him what moves you’d like to do.”

While our instructor fixed another couple’s form, Ben leaned over and murmured, “Hear that? I’m the boss in this relationship.”

“Only because I allow it,” I shot back with a grin. And just like that, we were back to being simply Quinn and Ben, two sort-of-friends who were once married, then divorced, and now faux-engaged and pretending to be madly in love.

Our instructor taught us some basic moves, which came easily to me because I’d already learned some swing back in high school. Ben was surprisingly agile. He twirled me out, then spun me back in.

“You two are naturals,” the instructor complimented as she walked past.

“Who taught you how to dance?” I asked, following his lead as he turned me again in an advanced move not yet taught by our instructor.

“Rachel at the senior center. I took lessons with my grandmother. There were more women than men in the class, so I had lots of practice. How did you get to be so good? No, don’t tell me; Quinn Mitchell excels at everything she does.”

“Hardly,” I said as we executed an inside-out turn. “I attended etiquette class senior year. This was one of the dances we learned. I loved swing, but waltzes were my favorite. The moves are so graceful.”

We continued dancing as the instructor walked around, helping any couples struggling. Occasionally, I stumbled, but each time, Ben’s steady hand was there to guide me back.

“Don’t worry. I got you, princess,” he’d murmur in my ear. “I’ve always got you.”

Suddenly, the music seemed too loud, my breathing too heavy, and Ben’s body felt too good against mine. I pulled away. “S-sorry, I should probably sit down. I’m a little lightheaded.”

While we were dancing, our server had delivered our meals to the table, and I sat there, staring blankly at the food, my emotions a jumbled mess. I wasn’t wearing any makeup or my usual dressier attire. I was stumbling over my words, saying all the wrong things. So why was Ben treating me like I was the most special person in the room?

We ate in silence. Once we’d finished our meal, he convinced me to dance again, and this time, I tried not to dissect what was going on between us. Instead, I let go and enjoyed being in the moment. Ben cracked a few jokes, and we both made mistakes, but it was the most fun I’d had in a long while.

“I can’t believe you bumped into that woman,” Ben said as we made our way back to the hotel. “She was so angry that you ruined her dip.”

“It was an accident.” I huffed. “Besides, I apologized to her. What I can’t believe is that you asked that other woman to dance.”

He shrugged. “You could tell she wanted to be on the dance floor, but her husband clearly wasn’t in the mood.”

I laughed, remembering the man’s obvious confusion when he’d stopped staring at his phone and realized his wife was dancing with Ben. “He sure got in the mood after seeing her in your arms. That was such a kind thing to do. She seemed thrilled that he was finally paying her attention.”

Ben looked away and coughed. “Yeah, I have that effect on men.”

We returned to our hotel room—aka Betty’s Den of Desire—where rose petals still adorned the bed. I set to work picking them off. “Do you want to shower first? Or should I?”

“I’ll go first.” Ben stripped off his shirt, and I immediately covered my eyes.

He laughed. “You never seen a guy take off his shirt before?”

“I have. But they weren’t you.”

“Don’t you think you should be comfortable with your future husband’s body?”

He was right. What if we were to go swimming together? I couldn’t very well feign blindness then, could I? After taking a deep, fortifying breath, I lowered my hands and studied him, the way I’d examine a data set before running my analyses. Broad shoulders tapering into narrow hips. Arms corded with muscle. And swirling, colorful tattoos that looked as though they were painted onto his sun-kissed skin. Not only were his tattoos on both arms now, but they also swirled across his chest.

Ben was basically a living statue covered in tattoos.

“I love that whale tattoo,” I squeaked before covering my eyes again.

Calm down. It’s perfectly normal to appreciate a man’s body when he’s built like Adonis.

Something soft landed on my head, and I peeked through my fingers to find Ben’s shirt draped across my head and shoulders. “For you to remember me by.”

His laughter trailed behind him as he left the room to take a shower. I snatched the shirt from my head and sniffed.

It was still warm.

And it smelled of him.

With a smile, I folded it and placed it on the couch. See? I’d messed up once or twice, but we could still pretend to be a regular, loving couple. Exhausted from playing emotional ping-pong with myself, I lay down on the bed and shut my eyes, waiting for my turn to shower.

“STOP!” I yelled at the robber who was pulling Joy away. “Let her go.” But he wouldn’t listen. He was taking her, and there was nothing I could do.

The fear in Joy’s eyes twisted my stomach. What were they going to do to her? “Take me instead!” I sprinted toward them, but Joy and the man vanished.

“QUINN?” a male voice called out.

“HELP! SOMEONE, PLEASE!” I peered around the room. But no one was there. “They’ve taken Joy,” I sobbed. “They’re going to hurt her, and I-I can’t stop them.”

“QUINN?” The voice grew louder. “Wake up.”

NO. This couldn’t be a dream; everything felt too real. I dashed to the rear of the plant store and pushed the back door open. But there was nobody outside.

“Joy!” I screamed. She was gone.

“QUINN, WAKE UP.”

My eyes popped open, and I saw Ben sitting beside me on the bed. “Shh, you were having a bad dream.”

“They took Joy. I-I couldn’t stop them.” I wiped the tears from my face. I could still feel the frantic desperation pressing down on my chest like a ton of bricks.

“You’re safe now. I’m here,” Ben said soothingly.

I curled into him and shut my eyes again. “But the robbers…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll watch out for you, Quinnie.”

I felt myself drifting back to sleep. Perhaps this was just a dream too. The way Ben spoke to me, so soft and reassuring, as if he cared about me, couldn’t be real.

“Night, Ben,” I mumbled to Dream Ben. “I’m glad we’re not mad at each other anymore.”

“Oh, princess, I could never be mad at you.”

17

BEN

“There, that should do it.” The mechanic grinned at me. “Next time, try not to run over any nails.”

“Will do.” I shook the man’s hand. “Thanks for coming in early.”

Instead of starting at nine as scheduled, the mechanic had called around seven thirty to tell me he’d be ready to fix the tire by eight. That was fine by me because I’d been awake since five, when Quinn cried out for help. She’d soon fallen back to sleep, but I was too hyped up. How long had these nightmares been going on?

Truthfully, the day of the robbery was the most frightening of my life. Aiden had ordered me to wait out back while he investigated, but when I heard a gun go off, I’d freaked out. How could I stay outside when the people I cared about were in trouble? I ran inside to see Quinn pointing a gun at the robber. That’s when I completely lost it. I’d punched the guy in the face, wanting to hurt him for threatening her.

I grabbed two cups of coffee from the hotel lobby before heading back up to our room. After setting my cup on the floor, I knocked on the door. “It’s me. Ben.”

Quinn was hurting. And I had no idea how to help her.

“Come in,” she called out.

I opened the door to find her zipping up her suitcase, looking adorable in a light gray sweater and a pair of jeans. Her hair was still wet from a shower. Surprisingly, she wasn’t wearing her glasses. “Where are your glasses?”

“Thought I’d try something new.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, appearing nervous.

“You look…” Beautiful, alluring, stunning, irresistible.

For some reason, Quinn turned me into a walking thesaurus.

But in the end, I settled on “nice.” I’d felt the push and pull between us last night, but I wouldn’t cross the line with Quinn until I’d talked to Lacey. She was the last woman on my list. “Here. I didn’t know how you took it, so I added a splash of milk.” I handed her a cup. “How are you doing?”

“Better now.” She took a sip of her drink, then set it down to fiddle with her luggage pull. “Did I wake you last night? I think I had another nightmare, but the details are foggy.”

So Quinn didn’t remember anything. That made me feel better. “It’s fine. How do you feel?”

“Not too bad until I checked my messages. Steven’s left quite a few. Seems he’s managed to not only delete a portion of the data but also to screw up something in my model.” Frustration coated her voice.

“What are you going to do?” I knew how much that project meant to her.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “There’s nothing I can do without access to a computer. I messaged him that I’d fix everything when I got back. And now I’ve turned off my phone and put it away. Don’t worry. Work won’t distract me from my duties as your fiancée. I’m one hundred percent here for you, Ben.”

It was becoming increasingly harder to hold myself back. I wanted to hug Quinn, to hold her close and keep her safe from all the nightmares and annoying bosses in this world. Instead, all I could do was give her a tight smile and then finish packing my things.

Once we headed downstairs, Betty printed out our receipt. “Hope you two lovebirds enjoyed your stay. Come back and visit us soon.” She gave us a wink.

I chuckled. The woman sure was a character. “Will do,” I said.

After a light breakfast in the lobby, we loaded everything into my car and headed off.

“We should be in Vegas in four hours,” I said as we turned onto the highway. “There are two stops I want to make along the way. Aiden and I found some fun touristy places last time we drove through.”

The atmosphere in the car became instantly tense. I kept my eyes glued to the road as Quinn muttered under her breath.

“Three point one four one five nine two six five three five…”

What was she saying?

Quinn stopped mumbling the numbers. “We should probably talk about what happened that day with Claire.”

That wasn’t one of my finest moments. I completely forgot that I had told Claire I could meet up after the concert. “We don’t have to.” I kept my tone light.

“I think we do. For the sake of our pretend relationship.” Quinn moved to push her glasses up her nose but paused when she realized she wasn’t wearing them. “Look, I don’t care who you dated, and I’m sorry for how judgmental I was. I hope we can move on and become real friends.”

And more, hopefully, once I explained everything to her in Vegas. “I’d like that. And since we’re apologizing to each other, I’m also sorry for teasing and aggravating you all this time.”

“Why do you call me all those silly nicknames anyway?Quinnie Bear? Princess?” Quinn furrowed her brow. “Why do you enjoy irritating me so much? Were you really that angry at me?”

Any amusement I’d felt previously vanished. Was that what she’d thought this entire time? That I was punishing her? “Whenever I ran into you, you acted like I didn’t exist. You pretended to not recognize me when Everly introduced us. I hated that I meant nothing to you, and I guess the nicknames were my way of getting your attention. In some warped way, having you angry at me seemed better than you ignoring me.”

My behavior made me sound like a schoolboy with a crush. But what else could I have done to capture Quinn’s attention? Because I was impossibly, irrevocably in love with her, I had been since the first night we met. Even surrounded by all the Vegas lights, Quinn glowed brighter. And if she somehow agreed to give me a second chance, I’d be the happiest man in the world.

I love Quinn.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, not daring to even glance in her direction, worried she’d see the truth. “I won’t call you anything besides Quinn from now on,” I said. It would be difficult because I loved seeing that fire in her eyes, but if she hated it, I’d stop. For her.

“Now, hold on one minute,” she said slowly. “If we’re going to pretend to be a real couple, it would probably be best if you did use a nickname. For appearances’ sake.”

“Right.” The tiniest of smiles tugged at the corners of my mouth, and Quinn turned to stare out her window.

“I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of looking at Joshua trees,” she murmured. “They’re so alien looking. Did you know it’s illegal to cut them down?”

“No, I had no idea.”

“The last time I went to Las Vegas, I flew. I can’t believe I missed out on all this beauty.”

She said it with such longing that I was glad I’d taken this detour on the way to the wedding. Our relationship might be fake, but while I had her this weekend, I promised myself I’d do every fake fiancé thing under the sun, which included finally taking her on a real date.

“Well then, consider me your tour guide.” I turned off the highway onto a small winding road that led to a gravel path. An old wooden fence with several hundred signs nailed to it came into view.

Quinn turned away from her window to look at me. “What is this place?”

“It’s an art installation.” I pulled up beside the fence and parked.

“Are you sure we can park here? Landowners usually erect fences to keep people out.”

“Not in this case. This isn’t a ‘keep people out’ type of fence. It’s a ‘keep the awesomeness in’ kind of fence.” Quinn’s expression told me she was still unconvinced. I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed out of the car. “Trust me.”

While the Mojave Desert’s known for its scorching-hot temperatures from late spring to early fall, the weather was still, thankfully, mild. Quinn stepped out of the car too, and we followed the fence until we reached a gate.

I pointed to the “Come on in, the beer’s cold” sign. “See? They want visitors.” I pushed the gate open, and we walked inside.

Thousands of green, brown, and clear glass bottles hung like leaves on metal tree-like structures, some almost three times our height. Quinn’s eyes were wide, and her mouth hung slightly open. “What is this place?”

“A local artist collected thousands of bottles to create a recycled forest.”

Quinn circled one of the metal sculptures. “A forest in the middle of the desert. I wonder how many years it took to build this place. There must be hundreds of trees here.” She walked between the trunks, and I followed, excited to watch her explore the grounds.

“Look over there.” I pointed to a smaller tree with a metal squirrel perched on top.

“There’s a rabbit by that one.” She pointed to the metal bunny hiding underneath another tree.

We continued walking, finding the animals hidden amongst trunks and branches. After staring at a particularly enormous tree for some time, Quinn turned to me with a grin. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

My heart squeezed at seeing her so relaxed and happy. “Wait till you see what else I have in store for you.”

“What is it? Another art installation?”

I held myself back from spoiling the surprise. “You’ll see.”

After driving for another hour, we were more than three-quarters of the way to Vegas and well and truly in the middle of the desert. Everything—from the boarded-up buildings along the side of the two-lane highway to the spiky bushes and knobbed cacti—was muted in color, as if coated in a fine layer of sand.

I turned onto a dusty main road with a lone flashing yellow traffic light and a handful of stores on either side.

“This is it.” I pointed to a tired-looking building. Once upon a time, someone must have painted the wooden boards in different hues, but the grueling desert sun and wind had worn the colors down to muted versions of their original shades.

Confusion clouded Quinn’s voice. She studied the building’s mismatched boards. “Is this place famous for being the most colorful pizza place in town?”

“No. You’ll see.”

When we stepped into the heavily air-conditioned restaurant, Quinn eyed the dozen empty tables with surprise.

Unable to contain my excitement, I strode over to the bored-looking high schooler behind the counter, who begrudgingly looked up from his phone. “Welcome to Shaq’s. The food’s so good, you’ll be sure to come back. What can I get you today?”

“We’re here to take your pizza challenge.”

Without batting an eye, the boy answered: “Sure thing. That’ll be fifty dollars.”

I paid him and grabbed two cups for drinks.

“What’s the pizza challenge?” Quinn asked as we took a seat.

“Two people have to eat a thirty-eight-inch pizza in twenty-eight minutes. I wanted to come here with Aiden last time, but they were closed for renovations.”

Quinn raised her eyebrows, probably wondering what exactly they’d renovated. With its red faux-leather booths and purple-and-green color scheme, the place looked like nothing had been updated since the eighties. “Has anyone ever completed this challenge?”

I pointed to the four photos on the winners board. Apparently, those people had.

Quinn surveyed the empty restaurant again, and I could tell she wasn’t too sure this was a good idea. I was mentally compiling a list of reasons why doing the challenge together would be fun, but she surprised me by saying, “Alright. Let me use the restroom first.”

As she walked away, I saw Lacey had sent me a message.

Lacey: Are you in Vegas yet?

Me: Almost. Just stopping for lunch first. Will you have time to meet before the rehearsal?

Lacey: Sure thing. I’ll meet you at the hotel. Can’t wait to see you again! xoxo

WHILE QUINN WAS in the restroom, her phone buzzed a couple of times. I glanced at the screen and saw Steven’s name. What did her boss want now?

“Did I miss anything?” she asked as she slipped back into her seat. Her smile fell when her phone screen flashed again. “Looks like Steven wants me to fix the model by Sunday. But I’m telling him I can’t because we’re in the middle of the desert.”

She typed a reply, and no sooner had she put her phone down on the table than it buzzed again. “He wants me to find a computer as soon as we get to the hotel.” Quinn paused as if debating what to do and then shook her head. “No. He has to accept the fact I won’t be able to help him until Tuesday.”

“Does this happen often? Your boss not respecting your boundaries?”

Quinn’s sigh as she slid her phone into her purse told me everything I needed to know. “I just have to stick it out for another three months, and then I can start looking for another job.” She took a sip of water and caught me watching her. “What’s wrong? You seem angry.”

“Do I?” I thought I’d done a better job of concealing my displeasure. First, her boss tried to corner her into going out with him, and now he was harassing her while on vacation. The guy needed a lesson in boundaries. Quinn glanced at my right hand, which I hadn’t realized was crumpling my paper napkin into a ball. I stopped. “I’m fine.” I wasn’t going to let Steven ruin our date.

The high school boy from before walked over with another worker, carrying a humongous pepperoni pizza between them. “Here’s your pizza. You have twenty-eight minutes to eat the entire thing. If you succeed, you’ll get your photo on our board of cheese champions as well as a free T-shirt.” He gestured to a faded pink T-shirt pinned to the wall that read, “Shaq’s has a pizza my heart.”

Quinn caught my eye, and we shared a smile at the corny pun.

The teenager set a timer on the empty table next to ours. “Time starts now. Good luck.”

Quinn and I each picked up a slice. “To us,” I said.

I bit into my pizza. It was delicious, and thankfully, the crust wasn’t too thick, so I finished the first two humongous slices without a problem. It scarcely seemed a challenge. I was confident that Quinn and I’d leave with matching pink shirts. After finishing my next slice, however, my stomach protested at the idea of eating any more. When I looked across the table at Quinn, she was still chewing slowly.

“Ready for my fourth slice.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin.

I stared at her empty plate in amazement. “How are you still eating?” After last night, I knew she had a good appetite, but I was still surprised she wasn’t yet struggling.

“I ate a small breakfast,” she said as she picked up her next slice of pizza. “Fifteen minutes to go. Better keep up, Ben, if you want us to win.”

I took in the remaining pizza, feeling more than a little queasy. But it had been my idea to come here, so, bite by bite, I forced myself to finish another piece. When I was done, Quinn was already starting on her fifth. Three more slices and eight minutes left.

I leaned back in my chair, the wind knocked out of my sails. “How are you doing?”

“Not too bad. I can keep going, but I’ll crash after this.” She let out a loud burp. “Excuse me.” She blushed, covering her mouth.

“Even your burps are ladylike.” I laughed, then winced at the stabbing pain in my side. “Sorry, but I don’t think I can eat any more. Guess we won’t be crowned cheese champions after all.”

Quinn eyed the final slices, looking like she was contemplating quitting too, but then she picked one up with a look of fierce determination. “Relax. I’ve got this.”

A handful of workers emerged from the kitchen to watch. “Six more minutes,” the teenager who took our order called out.

I was two mouthfuls away from being seriously ill. How would Quinn finish the challenge on her own? As if in answer to my question, she stacked the three slices on top of each other, creating a pizza sandwich.

I leaned over the table, watching Quinn as she began eating again, chewing quickly and only pausing to take a sip of water.

“One minute left,” the teenager on the counter yelled. He seemed much more animated now.

Quinn popped the last piece into her mouth and swallowed.

“You did it!” the boy screamed as though we’d just won the Super Bowl. This was probably the most excitement they’d had in this sleepy restaurant in ages. He ran up to us and grabbed her hands, raising them in the air. “We have a pizza champion. How did you do it? You don’t look like you’d be a big eater.”

“You obviously haven’t watched many eating competitions.” Quinn tried not to laugh. “Size can be misleading.”

“Pizza’s on the house since you won the challenge.” He jogged behind the counter and returned with two pale pink T-shirts before pulling up a chair at the table and staring at Quinn like a lovesick puppy.

Okay, buddy. That’s enough of that. I think I preferred your apathy.

I moved my chair next to Quinn’s and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Shouldn’t you take a photo of me and my fiancée for your wall?”

The boy blushed so hard, even his neck turned pink. “Of course.”

I grinned extra wide as he snapped our photo.

Was I being petty, telling the kid she was mine?

Heck yeah.

But I loved the way the word rolled off my lips. Fiancée. It had a nice ring to it.

18

QUINN

I groaned as the car pulled out of the pizza place’s driveway. Every pothole and speed bump we drove over made me want to hurl. “Not so fast,” I said, gripping my stomach, which now extended well past my waistband. Why had I thought eating seven slices of pizza was a good idea again? Oh, that’s right, because any basic knowledge of the digestive system went straight out the window as soon as Ben seemed disappointed that we wouldn’t win the challenge.

Mental note: that was my first and last foray into the world of competitive eating.

“Why’s the desert so bumpy?” I moaned, shutting my eyes. “Too fast,” I gasped. My stomach clenched as my chest burned. “Too fast.”

That was it. Forget decorum. I was about to deliver a food baby over here. “I’m loosening my jeans. And taking off my sweater.” I was burning up, most likely a byproduct of eating so much greasy food.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and ripped off my sweater before unzipping my jeans to free my food-baby belly. “This is all your fault, Benjamin Knight. You know I thrive on competition. Next time you enter us in an eating contest, please remind me of this pain I’m in right now.”

“Will do, Pizza Princess.”

Great. Yet another nickname. Fighting back a smile because I didn’t want to encourage him, I re-buckled my seatbelt and pulled an antacid from my purse. I chewed it slowly, all the while staring miserably out the window. The desert backdrop that had once seemed so wonderfully alien and vast now served as a constant reminder we were miles from civilization.

Aka restrooms.

I groaned again, regretting every single cheesy bite that had led me to this point.

Ben placed his hand on mine. “Do you want me to stop? We can find another town and rest there if you want.”

Like the complete wreck that I was, I took comfort in his touch. “Thank you. But I’ll be fine.” I turned back to the window and counted cacti to keep my mind off my sorry predicament. Seventeen cacti later, I noticed Ben’s hand still resting on mine and stared at it pointedly. “You seem awfully comfortable over here.”

“We need to get used to holding each other’s hands. You know, for the wedding. This way, you won’t be too skittish.” As if to make a point, he skimmed his thumb across mine.

“I’m not skittish,” I gasped.

Ben grazed his fingertips up my wrist and forearm. “Care to revise your statement now?” His voice was husky, his touch teasing.

“I’m awesome. Great.” Somehow, my voice had climbed two octaves. Ben was knocking down the wall I’d so carefully constructed around my heart with nothing more than his fingers. How could I have so many conflicting emotions about one man? I pulled my hand away. “Can we turn up the air-conditioning? I’m suffering from the pepperoni sweats.”

“Is that what’s happening?” He turned up the air-conditioning while giving me a look that told me he doubted my excuse.

Fine. He might have had a point. “Maybe I am a little skittish. We should try some exposure therapy. Hold my hand, and I’ll figure out a way to bear your touch.”

“Only bear it?” Ben’s words were laced with amusement. “It’s a well-known fact that I’m an excellent hand-holder.”

Just what I needed—another reminder I was with someone who’d dated dozens of other women. I reached out and seized hold of his hand. There. Was he happy now? I’d initiated the touch. I could do this. I was in control.

Ben said nothing, so I stared out the window again, wondering what was going on in his head. Was my palm sweaty? Was I squeezing too hard? After a few minutes, I became hyperaware of his skin against mine, how long his fingers were, the warmth of his touch. I fanned my face with my free hand. Maybe we needed to crank that air-conditioner even higher because I was growing warmer by the second.

The car jerked again, making me release his hand and grip my midsection with a moan.

“Sorry about that.” Ben reached into the back seat and dug around for something.

I nervously watched his driving. “Shouldn’t you be keeping your hands on the wheel?”

“Got it.” Ben triumphantly held up a bottle of water. “Here. This might help.”

I accepted it from him and took a sip.

“I hope you feel better soon, Quinnie. There’s a ton of all-you-can-eat buffets in Vegas.”

Even the thought of more food made me queasy. “No more all-you-can-eat anything.”

“Too soon?”

Way too soon. I burped, and the car smelled faintly of cheese and cheap processed meat. “Pardon me. That was rather unladylike.” I clasped a hand over my mouth, my face blazing hotter than the desert outside.

“You don’t have to be uncomfortable around me, Quinn. Just be yourself.”

I turned back to my window and gazed out at the scenery some more while processing Ben’s statement. Why did his words always challenge me in ways I didn’t quite understand? Of course I was myself. Who else would I be?

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my makeup, my clothes, and even my glasses were a type of armor. Fashion armor. Years of attending private schools and the fact that my mom modeled had made me see firsthand how people treat you differently when you dress in a certain way.

I touched my hair, which I’d pulled up in a messy bun. I’d given no thought to my appearance when we left the hotel. What would Ben’s friends think when they met me? I wore minimal makeup and a pair of what could only be described as mom jeans. I looked scruffy. Unkempt.

“Do you honestly mean that?” I murmured. “That I can just be myself?”

“You don’t need to try to impress me. You’ll always be the same perfect Quinn.”

Ben’s voice held a warmth that, until now, I hadn’t realized I desperately needed. But I fought how his tenderness tried to inch its way into my heart. Ben was Mr. One and Done. He’d dated dozens of girls, none of them seriously. Even if he did like me, why would our relationship be any different? After this trip to Vegas, Ben and I would no longer be enemies, but he’d move on to someone new. That was his way. Some guys just weren’t the sticking-around type.

There was a pang in my chest that wouldn’t go away. “So, I should probably get some more details on this wedding,” I mumbled. As terrible as my stomach felt right now, the ache in my heart was even worse. “Who’s attending this event? Are there any topics of conversation I should avoid? Who should I make sure to say hi to?” I rattled off my questions. Making plans always made me feel better.

Ben tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Last I heard, Anderson was playing professional baseball for the Angels, and Lacey was doing interior design work.”

A pro athlete and an interior designer. Got it. So the wedding would most likely be extravagant and well decorated. Good thing I’d brought my gold dress.

“When did Lacey and Anderson start dating?”

“Right after she and I broke up.”

I straightened in my seat. Was that why he wanted to attend the wedding? To show everyone he was over an ex? Then why was Lacey asking Ben to be a bridesman? Something didn’t make sense. “That must have hurt, seeing them together like that.”

“I got over it.” Ben stared straight ahead as he spoke, but I noticed the way his jaw clenched. Odd. He’d always been so open. Ben had made such a big deal out of us pretending to be engaged. But right now he was guarded, like he was hiding something.

A billboard for a Vegas magic show came up on our right, and soon, a steady parade of signs advertising dancers, art exhibitions, hotels, and singers came into view. The barren desert transformed into a city. After turning onto the main Vegas drag, we drove by a small white chapel and a handful of over-the-top hotels and sleek restaurants before turning into our hotel’s parking lot.

My jaw unhinged as I gazed at the replica of the Arc de Triomphe. “The Paris Las Vegas? This is where we’re staying?” I practically shrieked. I’d wanted to revisit Paris for years.

Ben pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. “It was your favorite,” he said quietly.

I could kiss him. After all this time, he remembered. My heart swelled, and I tried to contain it but failed. I had feelings… loving feelings toward Benjamin Knight.

Nononono. It was illogical. But Ben, with his sweet, flirty remarks, his heated looks, and his 54 tattoo, remembered my favorite place.

We’re only friends. I repeated the words on a loop, hoping they’d eventually sink in. But my heart, the stubborn, unreasonable organ that it was, didn’t care. It was as if my heart and mind were in a race, but my mind would win. It had to. I refused to let a man get close enough to hurt me again.

I opened the car door and was about to climb out, but Ben cleared his throat. “Your pants, Quinn?”

Oops. I’d forgotten they were still unzipped. “Right. Mustn’t let anybody know about our food baby.”

Our eyes met, but I looked away first. Trying to ignore my giddiness, I zipped up my jeans and fixed my hair before hopping out. Ben began unloading our luggage from the car.

“Imagine if we announced we were engaged and pregnant,” I teased, trying to ease the tension in my chest. “That would cause quite a stir.”

“Us? Pregnant?” Ben dropped my suitcase, and it burst open, scattering my clothes in all directions. My swimsuit landed by my feet while my shoes tumbled onto the ground behind the back wheels. Mortified, I scrambled to gather up my belongings.

“Um, Quinn?” Ben held up a pair of underwear. “I think these might belong to you?”

Face flaming, I grabbed them and shoved them back into my suitcase.

I give up, my brain yelled. You’re on your own. He touched your granny panties.

As Ben reached for another pile of clothes near the curb, I spotted one of my bras underneath a shirt. “Don’t touch that!” I screeched, pushing him out of the way to snatch up the clothes. “I can clean it up on my own.”

Ben’s eyes widened when he saw what I held in my hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for—”

“My clothes to pop out? Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.” I shoved all the rest of the items back into my case and tugged on the zipper, but the darn thing wouldn’t move. I made a mental note to send the makers of the suitcase a strongly worded email, informing them they needed to rectify their faulty zippers. A moment later, it begrudgingly closed. “Let’s go,” I snapped, desperate to get out of there.

Ben rushed to catch up with me. “Quinn. Wait. Don’t be embarrassed. I hardly even saw your… unmentionables.”

A second passed, and then we both burst into fits of laughter, making the other guests give us strange looks as they walked by.

“Unmentionables?” I giggled. “Who even uses that word anymore?”

“I couldn’t think of a better one.” Ben chuckled. “I was trying to make you feel more comfortable.”

I wiped away a tear. “It’s fine. I’m sure the valets here have witnessed incidents more embarrassing than flying underwear.”

Once we’d both stopped laughing, we headed into the hotel lobby, and I followed Ben to the counter, admiring the crystal chandeliers, cream-colored walls, and golden trim.

“Bonjour, do you have reservations?” the clerk behind the counter asked.

Ben gestured to me. “Yes. One room for Ben Knight and his fiancée.”

“That’s me.” Still recovering from Underweargate, I found it difficult to look at the clerk, so I pulled my phone and discovered that Steven had left three voicemails.

“Quinn, please call me as soon as possible. I need to talk to you about your model.”

“This is Steven again. Where are you? LoveMate’s moved the deadline up. They want to see the models running the cleaned data on Monday.”

“Call me back. Now. This is an emergency.”

Each message was more frantic than the previous. “I’ll be right back,” I told Ben.

“Alright, darling. Be back soon.”

I flashed him a dopey smile before heading over to the couches to call my boss.

“Hello?”

“Quinn!” Steven’s voice was sharp. “Have you made it to the hotel? Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”

Stay calm, Quinn. “I turned my phone off. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m on vacation.”

“Well, keep it on. How soon can you fix your model?”

Unbelievable. He couldn’t seriously expect me to work. “Steven, I’m attending a wedding. I didn’t bring my laptop, as I’ve told you before.” Numerous times.

“Didn’t you read what I sent? LoveMate wants us to show them preliminary analyses on Monday.”

That wasn’t what we’d agreed. Why would they change their minds? They’d never moved a deadline before.

“I need you here,” Steven snapped. “With me. You’re my top data scientist.”

Part of me wanted to rub it in that my gender had nothing to do with why I got the lead role, but I wasn’t going to be petty when he was so stressed. Ignoring Steven’s possessive tone, I attempted to come up with a possible solution. “Have you talked to Muhammed? Greyson? Can’t they get the model to work?”

“Don’t you think I’ve already asked them? I sent it to them this morning, but neither one could fix it.”

Imagine that. Guess the bro show was a no-show.

Ben waved at me from the counter and motioned toward the elevator. I held up a finger to ask him for one more minute.

“I’m sorry, but as I told you before, I won’t be able to work on this until Tuesday.”

“That won’t work. This is our biggest client. Get back here and pull your weight for once.”

For once? I worked late nights and weekends to ensure that we presented clients with the best products. I loved my work, I always went above and beyond. And he was pulling this now? Even after I hounded him about accepting my help before I left for Vegas? My heartbeat thundered against my skull and I studied the patterned tiles on the ground, counting them as I tried to calm myself down. “Steven, I understand you’re stressed right now, but I beg to differ. I always pull my weight.”

A warm hand came to rest on my shoulder, and Ben looked down at me, concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he whispered. “Is our food baby still bothering you?”

I sighed. If only it was that.

“But Quinn—” Steven whined in my ear.

“Sorry.” I was no longer interested in hearing any of it. Steven might be my boss, but that didn’t give him the right to talk to me like that. I blew into my phone. “What did you say? The connection is bad here. Probably the lack of towers in the desert.”

“Aren’t you in Vegas?”

I blew into my phone again, this time harder. “Can’t hear you. I’ll see you on Tuesday. Bye.”

When I hung up, Ben stared at me with a knowing grin. “Bad reception? Funny. Mine’s perfect. Let me guess. You were talking to Steven.”

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I got off the couch and began pacing. “Do you know how many times I’ve worked overtime to fix someone else’s project? Or how many times I’ve been told to take one for the team? Why do I keep showing up, day after day just to be spoken to like that? It’s not fair. I give this company everything and they keep demanding more. I do everything excellently, and it’s never enough. And I never say anything because I’m the youngest and the only woman. Why do I have to keep proving my worth over and over again?”

I finally caught my breath. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. There was so much pent-up resentment bottled up inside that demanded to be let out.

“I’m infuriated. I’m exhausted. And I’m over it.” I turned to Ben, expecting to see shock at my outburst. But instead, there was a warmth and understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply before pulling me in closely until the lines of our bodies matched. All thoughts of Steven and LoveMate immediately vanished. There was only Ben and me: the smell of the ocean and the safety of his arms. I tilted my head and found the underside of his chin with my nose, then with my mouth. I didn’t kiss him, not really, but I grazed his chin with my lips. Sparks danced across my skin, lighting me up all the way down to my toes.

“Quinn?” Ben’s voice was rough and his wanton look made my heart speed up. It was as if we’d opened a Pandora’s box of emotions that now refused to close. I needed to properly kiss him. I needed to taste—

“Ben!” a female voice called out. “Is that you?”

A curvy, red-headed woman walked toward us, wearing a sequined white dress and a sash that read “Future Mrs. Sanders.”

“Oh my goodness, Anderson.” She laughed. “You were right. It is Ben!”

19

QUINN

Like a bucket of cold water, Lacey’s voice slapped me out of my lust-filled haze. We were here for a wedding. Time to act the part of a woman happily in love.

Only act? my heart whispered.

Yeah, I’d deal with that later. I reluctantly pulled away and smiled at the approaching couple. Anderson was as tall as Ben, with curly dark brown hair and a matching set of dimples. He reached us first and glanced at Ben before his eyes landed on me and narrowed slightly.

“You look familiar.” Anderson’s gaze was assessing, and I found myself shrinking away from it. The guy gave off the same creeper vibes as Steven.

“Sorry. But we’ve never met before.” I turned to Ben to see what he thought, but he was busy hugging Lacey.

Anderson shifted his attention to them, his expression morphing into a smile. “Ben! Man, it’s good to see you.” He and Ben gave each other a side hug.

“Is this Quinn?” Lacey rushed over and hugged me, smelling strongly of roses and… stale alcohol. I tried not to grimace. It was like she’d soaked in it. “Ben, you’re such a lucky guy. She’s gorgeous.”

“Brilliant too,” Ben added.

“I’m so excited to finally meet you,” Lacey gushed. “You must be a very special woman to capture our Benjamin’s heart.”

Our Benjamin?

“We almost thought you weren’t real.” Anderson nudged Ben’s shoulder.

“Oh, Quinn’s real alright,” Ben said, his voice sounding a little tight.

Was he embarrassed that we’d almost kissed before? I suppose someone looking at you as if you were a buffet ready to be devoured wasn’t all that appealing if you didn’t see them the same way. But I’d seen the look in his eyes. Ben desired me too.

Maybe for now. But he doesn’t do relationships.

Right. Just like my dad.

“Course she’s real.” Anderson chuckled, as though Ben had made a joke. “We can see Quinn right in front of us. We just didn’t think you’d ever settle down.” Anderson turned to me. “Did Ben ever tell you about the times he and I went out together? This guy was the best wingman ever. He knew all the places to pick up women. And when we got there, Ben was good-looking enough that women flocked to us, but not particularly ambitious or successful, so the ladies always picked me. Sorry, man, but it’s the truth.”

He laughed as if he were only kidding, but I grew angrier with each passing second. Who said things like that about a friend?

“I find that very surprising.” I crossed my arms and stared into Anderson’s eyes. I’d once read that primates avoid making too much direct eye contact with each other because it’s intimidating. But I locked eyes with Anderson because I needed him to know I wasn’t about to allow him to belittle Ben. “Were you aware that Ben owns a successful body shop in Mermaid Cove? He has three full-time employees working for him. What he’s doing as a small business owner is incredibly brave and difficult.”

Anderson lowered his gaze and I smirked at the victory. “Geez, Ben. Tell your woman to calm down. I was only joking,” he mumbled.

Ben scowled and took a step forward, but Lacey grabbed hold of Anderson’s arm and laughed a little too loud, like she was an actor in a bad stage performance. “Just ignore him. My husband-to-be likes to kid around. Even when he’s not all that funny.”

Her words were biting, and when Ben’s eyes met mine, I suspected we were both thinking the same thing. There was trouble in paradise. Perhaps Indie was right, and we’d get to see a fight after all.

Lacey looped her other arm through mine. “Quinn, we’ve only just met, but we need to get to know each other. I can’t wait to find out all the wonderful things that Ben loves about you.”

Sheesh. Her breath reeked. I tried to slide out of her grasp, but it was unyielding.

Help me, I silently pleaded with Ben.

“Not now, Lace.” Ben tugged me away from Lacey. “You can’t hog all of Quinn’s time. I’m sure you must have plenty of other things to do.”

Lacey sighed. “You’re right. A bride’s work is never done. I’ve got to get a manicure, pedicure, and facial. Meanwhile, Anderson’s taking the guys out for blackjack and drinks.”

“You could join us too, you know,” Anderson said. “Women are invited.”

“And sit there staring at cards?” She wrinkled her nose as if smelling something unpleasant. “Ew. No, thank you. I’m treating myself to some much-needed girl time with my bridesmaids. We’ve earned it after putting together this wedding.” Lacey leaned in and studied my face. “Has anyone ever told you that you have such nice skin. Your pores are tiny. Literally, you have baby fairy pores.”

Space, lady. Space. “Thanks.”

Lacey squealed. “I almost forgot. Let’s see your ring.”

I held up my left hand, and she inspected it. “Oh my gosh. It’s so cute. It’s perfect. Here’s the one Anderson bought me.” She dropped my hand and waggled her fingers in my face. “It’s four carats. I’m like a bunny. I love my carats.”

“Stunning.” I attempted to admire Lacey’s ring, but I was ready for this conversation to be over. No wonder Ben wanted me to come with him. His friends were awful.

“Only the best for my girl.” Anderson grinned. “Lace wouldn’t hear of anything smaller. You’re lucky that Quinn’s much easier to satisfy. Women are like magpies. They lose their minds over sparkly things.”

Not all women. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been gripping the handle of my suitcase until I noticed the nail marks in my palm.

“Babe, we’ve got the money,” Lacey whined. “So why not live a little? That’s also why we should go on two honeymoons instead of one. We can keep the celebration going for a few months. Oh my gosh, I just realized this is the first time we’ve all been together in ages. We need to take a photo.” She held out her phone to me. “Could you take one of the three of us?”

Ben looked uncomfortable. “Why don’t we all get in the photo together?”

“No. It’s fine.” I’d seen enough bridezillas to know it was generally best to just roll with what they wanted. I took the phone from Lacey, and she squeezed in between Anderson and Ben. After I snapped a few shots, Anderson excused himself to make a phone call.

Lacey took back her phone and scanned the photos. “Ben, I have a half hour before my nail appointment. Did you want to talk now?” From her tone, it was clear she wanted to talk to him alone.

That was fine by me. I was tired of interacting with her anyway. “I’ll head on upstairs to freshen up before the rehearsal.”

“Hold on.” Ben wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. My breath caught in my throat, and I stared at him in surprise. “I’ll miss you, Quinnie,” he murmured. “I-I love you.”

The sincerity in his eyes and the longing in his voice did me in. All rational thought disappeared. Poof went all my excuses for why I shouldn’t care about Ben. Only the words I love you remained. Without responding, I turned and walked away, each step harder than the one before.

Ben kissed me.

It was all an act.

He said he loved me.

It was just for show.

Then why did it feel so real? I pressed my fingertips to the exact spot where Ben’s lips scorched my skin and searched my feelings. In place of cynical reason, there was so much joy and astonishment that I was swimming in it.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t even realize Anderson had slipped in beside me while I waited for the elevator. “You’re heading up to your hotel room alone? I’m surprised. If I were Ben, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight. Someone might just make off with you.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and squeezed.

What was that? I jerked away from him. The guy was getting married tomorrow. “They could try, but they wouldn’t succeed,” I said, hoping my words served as a warning. “Ben and I have a solid relationship.” The words rolled easily off my lips but sat uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach.

“Is that so?” Anderson sneered. “Then where is he now?”

“Over there, talking with Lacey.”

Anderson’s expression darkened when he spied the two of them sitting together on couches by the front door. With their heads bent close together, they appeared to be discussing something serious. Without uttering another word, Anderson stalked away.

Honestly, I couldn’t tell you how I made it to our room. I was an emotional wreck: disturbed by what happened with Anderson, and at the same time, filled with so much longing that, maybe, there was the smallest percentage of a chance that Ben had feelings for me too. Either way, I was done lying to myself. There was no more denying it—I was in love with Ben.

I opened the door to our room, and as I stepped inside, I let out a gasp of delight. Courtesy of an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, we had a panoramic view of the sprawling city below. And standing front and center was the great Iron Lady herself. I dropped my bags as I raced to the windows, wanting to take in the scenery below and admire all the details of the beautiful structure. It was so obvious: Ben had chosen this room specifically for me.

My phone buzzed with a video call from Everly.

“Hey, Ev,” I said, taking a seat in an armchair by the window.

“Hi, Quinn. Just checking in to see that you made it to Vegas okay. Are you at the hotel now?”

“I am.” I held up my phone to show her the breathtaking view.

“Indie, come over here and take a look.”

Indie’s face appeared on the screen. “Holy hot wings. That’s a ‘take your girlfriend and propose to her’ view.”

I laughed uncomfortably. “Well, there’ll be none of that happening here.” My voice wobbled, and I was thankful they weren’t in the room with me; otherwise, they’d have seen right through my act.

“Where’s Ben?” Indie asked. “Did you two finally get into it? Is his body buried in the desert?”

“Indie!” Everly exclaimed. “I’m sure my brother’s fine.” She frowned. “He is fine, isn’t he?”

“Of course,” I replied. “Ben’s downstairs talking to Lacey and Anderson. By the way, Anderson gives off weird vibes. He made me uncomfortable with some of the things he said to me when we were alone.”

Everly frowned. “Have you mentioned it to Ben?”

“No. I don’t want to spoil his weekend.”

“Don’t discount your instincts,” Indie said. “If you don’t like Anderson, there must be something wrong with him. Stick close to Ben. Real close.”

Everly giggled. “How was the drive? Did you get Ben’s tire fixed?”

“We did,” I said. “Ben also took me to a bottle-forest art installation and then entered us in a pizza-eating competition at this random pizza place. And guess what? We won. Hold on a moment.” I got up and unzipped my suitcase to pull out my pink T-shirt. “We even got matching shirts.”

“You mean to say my brother planned this entire trip?” Everly asked.

“Quinn, you didn’t plan anything at all?” Indie added. “What about the places to eat?”

“I did make plans, but we ended up using Ben’s.” I paused. “Why? Is that surprising?”

Everly and Indie looked at each other before Everly eventually answered. “A little. It’s just that you get such a kick out of planning stuff. You volunteered to be my wedding coordinator.”

“And you’re helping your mother with that fundraiser,” Indie added.

Both valid points. “I had a trip laid out, but Ben said he had it covered.” I grinned, remembering the pizza competition. “I’m glad we went with his plans. We’ve had so much fun.”

Indie’s eyes widened. “Wow. You’ve changed.”

I sat down on the bed, now feeling self-conscious. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Sure it is,” Indie said. Penny appeared on the screen and licked her face. Indie pushed her away with a laugh. “Ev, tell Quinn the other reason we called.”

The phone returned to Everly’s face. “Oh, right. We were also checking on you because I got a call from your boss. He sounded frantic, something about needing your help on some project?”

Indie pulled the phone closer to her face. “Steven’s the bosshole, right? I was about to grab the phone from Everly and give him a piece of my mind.”

“Don’t worry. I stopped her,” Everly added with a nervous laugh.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Steven had reached out to my friends? “I’m so sorry, Ev. I put you down as one of my personal references. Steven’s been calling me nonstop, trying to get me to fix my model that he messed up.”

“But you’re on vacation with your fiancé,” Indie said.

“Fake fiancé,” I reminded her. “And I’ll take care of it. My boss won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Alright, then. Bye, Quinn,” Everly said. “Tell Ben we said hi!”

I ended the call, and immediately texted Steven.

Me: Please don’t call my friends again. I already told you I’ll fix everything on Tuesday.

Steven: There’s a flight leaving tonight at seven. I’ll purchase tickets for you to come back.

Steven: Please. I need you.

Steven: This project has to go well.

THERE ONCE WAS a time when I’d have dropped whatever I was doing and returned to work, no questions asked. But I was spending the weekend in Las Vegas with someone I loved, staying in a room where I could stare out at a miniature version of one of the Seven Wonders of the World. For once, work would have to take a back seat.

Me: I’m sorry. I can’t.

Steven: You’re twisting my arm here.

Steven: What do you want from me?

Steven: Do you want a raise? I can make it happen.

Me: No. Sorry, but I’m sticking firm. I’ll see you Tuesday.

Steven: Fine. If that’s how you want to play it.

Steven: Fly back tonight or I’ll relieve you of your position. You’ll no longer be employed at M Studios.

I REREAD his last text several times and my stomach plummeted. How had the situation spiraled so quickly? If I gave in to my boss, he’d pull this stunt again. But if Steven fired me, I’d lose everything. What about my health insurance? My rent? Thankfully, I had some savings put aside.

Steven: Think about your future.

Steven: You won’t be able to give the company as a reference.

Steven: I’ll tell everyone about your poor work ethic.

Steven: What do you think LoveMate will think when I tell them about your refusal to be a team player? You’re letting them down.

Steven: And most importantly, you’re letting yourself down.

THAT’S where he was wrong again. I’d never given anything less than one hundred percent. I always handed in my best work. And to have him issue an ultimatum like that?

Me: Sorry you feel that way. As I’ve stated several times, I’ll work on the problem this coming Tuesday during normal work hours.

Steven: Clearly you have no commitment to the company. I’ve tried my best to work out a compromise, but you are being selfish.

Steven: You’re fired.

MY PHONE SLIPPED from my hands and I fell back on the bed, equal parts terrified and… ecstatic. While I hated that I’d never get the opportunity to work with Julie and Naisha, it felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from my shoulders because I no longer had to pander to the whims of a horrible boss.

I, Quinn Mitchell, who once had every step of my life planned, was suddenly without a plan.

And the first person I wanted to tell was Ben. I grabbed my phone and purse and left the hotel room, ready to embrace this path into the unknown.

20

BEN

“Don’t say anything,” Lacey said the moment we sat down.

“About what?” I asked. About Anderson ogling Quinn? Even thinking about it made me wish I’d never brought Quinn with me in the first place.

Lacey lowered her gaze. “I can see it in your eyes. I know what you’re going to say, but I’m telling you, I don’t want to hear it. Tomorrow’s my wedding day. Anderson can be a bit… much sometimes. But that’s just his way. He’s stressed out with everything.”

Same old Lacey, still making excuses for him. Except, judging by the alcohol I could smell on her breath, she might not be as blind to his faults as I feared.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else.” Even though it bothered me to see her struggling, Lacey was an adult who made her own decisions. She’d made that point very clear the last time we talked. I disliked Anderson, but I wasn’t here to ruin a marriage. “I’m planning to tell Quinn about my past.”

Her smile wobbled. “Everything?”

“Everything,” I emphasized. “I kept it all a secret before because I assumed that the other women wouldn’t want their partners knowing, but they’re all fine with it. The last approval I needed to get was yours.”

After I got back from Vegas, Lacey admitted to me that she had a massive crush on my roommate. I’d been the one to introduce her to Anderson when I moved back to town after college. They’d hooked up a couple of times, but Anderson refused to label it as anything serious. I’d seen him flirting with other women and told Lacey to move on. But she was adamant. She loved him.

So Lacey came up with the plan for us to pretend to date each other, hoping to make Anderson jealous. Shockingly, her plan worked. Within a week, Anderson seemed interested in her again. By that point, I had second thoughts about them getting together. What kind of guy only pursued a woman he thought was taken? But Lacey wouldn’t heed my warnings, and after we staged our breakup, she and Anderson immediately started dating.

I moved out of the apartment so Lacey could move in. Right before I left, she begged me to keep the truth of our relationship a secret. That was the last time we spoke. I’d not told anyone about our arrangement, but she must have mentioned it to one of her friends because a woman approached me one night at a bar with a request similar to Lacey’s. Still heartbroken over Quinn, I agreed to help the woman out.

If I couldn’t have love, perhaps I could help others find it.

And that’s how it all began. Each woman I helped told someone else, and soon, dozens of women were texting me with a similar request: take them out to places where the men they actually cared about were and pretend we were on a real date. Hopefully, that would be enough to push the other men to act. Admittedly, it was fun at first, doing all of this in secret and helping others find love. But then Quinn stepped back into my life, and everything changed.

When Quinn found out about Claire, I couldn’t say anything because I’d promised the women I’d keep our arrangement a secret. The last thing I wanted was to embarrass anyone. But then I saw the hurt in Quinn’s eyes, and I finally realized how much my favors cost. Quinn now believed I’d dated countless women when, in truth, no one held a candle to her.

“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” Lacey asked.

“Quinn’s my one.” That’s why I needed to tell her everything. I wanted our relationship to start with the truth.

Lacey rubbed her temples. “OK. I understand. But could you tell Quinn after the wedding? I don’t want to risk it getting back to Anderson. He’s already stressed enough with this weekend and his job, and I don’t want this upsetting him.”

“Fine.” I sighed. After waiting this long to confess my feelings, I could wait another two days.

Anderson slid into the seat beside Lacey and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You two look awful cozy. What are you talking about?”

Lacey shot me a look that begged me to not say a word. “Just catching up. Ben was telling me all about Quinn.”

Anderson smirked. “Dude, how did you manage to score Imani Mitchell’s daughter?”

He knew? Anderson must have looked her up. After our time in Vegas, I searched for Quinn online and was shocked to discover she was Imani’s daughter. But it made her reaction to our Vegas wedding even more understandable. As the daughter of someone famous, she’d be extra wary of other people. People such as Anderson. I clenched my fists, remembering how he’d checked out Quinn when he thought I wasn’t looking. “What can I say? I’m a lucky man.”

Anderson’s hand fell from Lacey’s shoulder. “That family’s like Hollywood royalty. Have you seen her mother? Imani was smoking hot as a model, and she’s still hot even now. You have a direct picture of what Quinn will look like when she’s older. Maybe we should all go swimming, see if she has her mom’s body.”

Could he not hear how disgusting he sounded? How could he speak like this in front of Lacey? “Quit talking about her like that. You sound like an idiot.”

This is who you want to marry? I asked Lacey with my eyes. Their relationship was as toxic as ever. And I was back in the middle of it.

Lacey remained silent, but her shoulders sagged.

“Who’re you calling an idiot?” Anderson narrowed his eyes, his expression turning angry. “You think you’re too good to hang out with us? I’m a pitcher for the Angels. What are you? A used car salesman?”

My jaw tightened. “I own a body shop.”

“Whatever. Lighten up, man. We’re in Vegas. Women are begging to be looked at.” A woman in a low-cut red dress walked by, and Anderson openly ogled her.

I couldn’t sit back and take this anymore. “Lace, are you going to stand for this?”

“Of course Anderson looks,” she said, her voice robotic. “All guys look. But he knows what lines not to cross. He takes really good care of me. And after tomorrow, he’ll be mine forever.”

Anderson leaned back and rested his arms along the back of the couch. “That’s right, Ben. Let Lacey go. The best man won, as always.”

She was self-destructing right before my very eyes. And I could no longer watch Anderson treat her the way he did. It hurt too much.

“Sure. Whatever. I’m heading upstairs. See you at the rehearsal later.” I’d taken no more than a few steps before Anderson said, “I can’t believe you begged me to invite him. The guy’s such a loser. He’s probably still jealous that I got you.”

I rolled my eyes. Same old Anderson. Everything was a competition to him.

“Actually, there’s something I need to tell you,” Lacey said. I froze in my tracks and looked back. Lacey’s eyes darted to mine, and she gave me a small smile.

It was the glimmer of hope that I’d looked for. She was going to tell him the truth, which meant that I was finally free to tell Quinn the truth about everything too. I typed out a message to Quinn.

Me: Where are you? Care to take a stroll to the Eiffel Tower?

I WAITED A FEW SECONDS. No response.

Not a problem. Quinn was probably upstairs in our room, admiring the view. As I sprinted toward the elevator, Lacey’s fearful voice cut through the air.

“Ow, Anderson. Stop. You’re hurting me.”

I whipped back around and saw Anderson grasping Lacey’s wrist and shaking it. Hard. “You and Ben tricked me into dating you?” He hauled her to her feet. “Why would you tell me this now? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Let go.” Lacey tried to pull away, but his grip was solid. “Ben’s right. I’m tired of this. You treat me like I don’t matter.”

“Since when have you been talking to Ben about me?” Anderson was yelling now, and people around them stopped to stare. “Forget Ben. He isn’t important. What are you complaining about anyway? You get the life you always wanted.”

As I made my way back toward them, Anderson slapped Lacey across the face, and all I saw was red.

“Get your hands off her.” I raced over to them and shoved Anderson to the ground. Lacey turned to me, cradling her wrist. Her eyes were wet and her the skin on her arm was turning an angry shade of purple.

“Stay out of this!” Anderson tackled me to the ground. He punched me in the stomach, but I managed to push him off and jump to my feet before he landed another blow.

“Stop it, Anderson. Just stop!” Lacey screamed.

“You want Ben now, is that it?” Anderson tried punching me again, but this time, I was ready. I leaped out of the way.

I gritted my teeth. “Grow up, Anderson.”

With a snarl, he charged at me, and we both tumbled over the couches. I tried to get up, but he pinned me down.

“You think you’re so hot?” Anderson yelled. “You’re nothing.” As he raised his other arm to hit me, a coffee carafe came out of nowhere and slammed into his face.

Anderson fell to the floor with a howl, clutching his cheek. Brown liquid trickled down one side of his face.

I backed away as Quinn put herself between Anderson and me, brandishing the carafe like a weapon. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on my fiancé again!” she screamed, looking like an avenging angel of caffeine.

What was she thinking, stepping in between us? She could get hurt.

As I tried tugging her behind me, five security guards tackled Anderson and dragged him to his feet.

“Let go of me,” Anderson snarled. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, someone we want off the premises,” one of the security guards grunted. “You’re coming with us.”

“Babe!” Anderson cried to Lacey as the guards pulled him away. “Tell them this was all a mistake. You got me mad and I overreacted.”

“Don’t babe me. We’re through,” Lacey said.

Finally. She was free of Anderson’s hold.

Quinn turned around and hugged me. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”

I held her close, breathing in her sweet scent. “I’m fine, Quinn. I love you.”

She let go and pulled away, still holding the coffee carafe. “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Sir. Ma’am.” One of the remaining security guards approached us. “I’m sorry, but we’ll have to escort you from this hotel as well. We have a strict nonviolence policy. You’re no longer allowed back on these premises.”

“But they were protecting me,” Lacey said.

The man shook his head. “Sorry, but those are the rules. They have to go.”

Quinn glanced at the guard and then at me, and then at the guard again. “I agree that rules are in place to protect the general public’s safety. But can you please give us one moment to talk?”

The security guard briefly considered her request. “Fine. But I’ll need that coffee carafe.”

“Oh, this?” Quinn handed it to him. “Of course. You’re out of cups, by the way.” Without waiting for the man’s response, she turned to me. “Did you know that coffee beans are actually seeds?”

“No, I didn’t.” I swallowed hard. This wasn’t how I’d planned to tell her, but there was no turning back now. “Did you know that you blurt out facts when you feel excited or scared?”

“I-I knew that,” she murmured, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Well did you know that you wiggle when you make hot chocolate?” I continued. “Or that you talk in your sleep? Or that you reach for your necklace when you’re nervous, like that you’re doing now? Or that you have one of the most voracious appetites for pizza I’ve ever seen?”

That last one earned a genuine smile from her.

Taking that as a sign, I continued. “Ever since we got married in Vegas, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. You are unlike any other woman I’ve ever met. You are smart and beautiful and you have such a big heart. I brought you back to Vegas to ask you for another chance. I love you, Quinn. And I realize you don’t feel that way about me, but for now, I’ll love you enough for the both of us. Please give me a chance. I want to go on more adventures with you and see more art installations with you and eat more pizza with you. When the time is right, of course.” I chuckled. “I want to be the first person you talk to when something worries you. I want to be the person you celebrate with when things go well. I want to hear more interesting facts. Man, I love your facts. Please let me love you, Quinn and hopefully, one day you’ll love me back.”

Quinn bit her bottom lip and shook her head. “I’m not sure about this, Ben.”

My breath stalled. Was my confession too late?

“What do you mean?” someone called out. We’d now attracted a large crowd. “Give the guy a chance!”

“I-I’m not sure,” Quinn repeated. “All those other women—”

“Dump him!” The crowd’s loyalty changed on a dime.

A woman shouted, “Never trust a cheater.”

“They meant nothing,” I said to Quinn.

“That’s what they all say,” another man yelled. “The guy’s a cheater. Go out with me instead.”

Seriously? I shot the jerk a glare. “Give me a chance to explain, would you?” I turned back to Quinn. “Remember when we were swing dancing, and I asked that woman to dance to make her husband pay attention? That’s not the first time I’ve done something like that. I took those other women out to make the guys they really liked jealous. None of the dates were real. They were all fake. I have all their numbers. You can message them and ask them yourself.”

Quinn stared at me, speechless. Time stretched between us as one second of silence stretched into four.

“He’s telling the truth,” Lacey said. “I’ll vouch for him. Ben and I pretended to date to make Anderson jealous.”

The security guard approached us again. “Look, I’m sorry. But we’re going to have to ask you to leave now.”

“Hold on!” Quinn and I both yelled at once.

The man shook his head and muttered, “They don’t pay me enough to deal with this crap.”

“Please, Quinn,” I pleaded. “I’m telling the truth. None of those other women meant anything.” Did she understand what I was saying? Would she forgive me?

Quinn took a step closer and then stopped. “I used to believe us having any sort of relationship was impossible. Nonsensical.”

My heart fell further with each word.

“Dude, you’re screwed,” someone in the crowd muttered.

Quinn’s eyes widened. “No. Ben’s not. Sorry. I’m not so great at communicating about my feelings. But you’re already aware of that, aren’t you?” She gave me a nervous smile. “I think I held on to my hurt for so long because anger’s an easier emotion for me to understand than love. Knowing that you dated other women hurt me, Ben. It shattered me. I was so angry and sad. I didn’t know how my broken heart could continue beating. I never wanted to see you again, let alone spend time with you. I thought it would wreck me.

“And yet, this weekend, I’ve realized that when I’m with you, I truly feel alive. I’ve always said that I don’t believe in a forever love, that I’d be content with finding just a partner. Someone to do life fifty-fifty with me. But I was wrong. Because if what I feel for you right now is even a fraction of forever love, then what I actually wanted all this time is a soulmate.”

Quinn took a deep breath. “I never thought I’d say this, but I believe in the infinite value of pi. And I also believe in you. I love you too, Benjamin Knight, and I can’t wait to go on more unexpected adventures with you.”

She loved me too? I wrapped her in my arms and kissed Quinn like no one else was in the room. Quinn responded to my enthusiasm and moaned against my mouth. Her lips were so unbelievably soft. They tasted like hope and desire and tomorrows, so many beautiful tomorrows, and… chocolate?

I pulled away before giving her another kiss to check. Yup. There was definitely a familiar sweetness on her lips. “Were you drinking hot chocolate?”

Quinn chuckled. “Where did you think I got the coffee carafe from?”

21

QUINN

“And that’s everything that happened in Vegas,” I finished.

It was the night of the hospital fundraiser, but instead of mingling with the other guests, I’d taken my friends aside and told them everything: about Ben and my rather unconventional meeting, our quick marriage and divorce; about Ben’s “girls,” the wedding that never happened, and the viral kiss that should have happened long ago. For the past half hour, Everly, Indie, and Joy had listened to my story, taking only a momentary break to watch some videos of the fight that various people had uploaded to their social media accounts. #VegasFightForLove #CoffeeCarafeCouple.

Indie was the first to recover from it all. “See?” she said, a sparkle in her eye. “I told you there’d be a fight. All the best weddings have them.”

Why had I been so worried about telling my friends in the first place? They were amazingly supportive. I loved them all.

“Well, technically, it ended up being an expensive party,” I reminded her. After publicly dumping Anderson, Lacey cancelled the church ceremony and turned her reception into one massive party. Ben and I didn’t stay for it. After dragging Anderson away, the hotel made us sign legal documents saying that we’d never set foot in the place again. Which was fine by us because we drove back to the hotel where Betty worked and ended up being treated to another rose petal–covered bed.

“I’m still confused about one thing,” Joy said. “Why did Ben date all those other women?”

“We were trying to make their future partners jealous.” Ben slipped into the seat beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. My heart melted at his touch. Tonight, he’d worn a tuxedo, and despite it hiding his tattoos, that I was one of the few people who knew what lay beneath that formal jacket made me feel special.

“I kept it a secret because I didn’t want to embarrass anyone,” Ben said. “But once I decided to tell Quinn everything, I contacted all the women to give them a heads-up.”

“And that’s why you accepted the invitation to Lacey’s wedding,” Indie said.

Ben nodded. “She was once a close friend, so I wanted to talk to her about it in person.”

“Where’s your ring?” Indie asked me.

I pulled out the ring I wore around my neck to show her.

“Not that one; the other one.”

I glanced down at my empty ring finger. I’d returned it to Ben when we left Vegas. It was gorgeous, but it hadn’t seemed right to continue wearing it when we weren’t actually engaged.

“I’m holding onto it,” Ben said with a hopeful smile. “For when we’re both ready.”

Indie and Joy both awwwed at the same time.

“Hold on a moment,” Everly said. “Yes, this is all very sweet and wonderful, but are we just going to ignore the fact that these two were once married and kept it a secret from us the entire time?”

Joy and Indie looked at each other across the table and shrugged. “Not that big of a deal,” Indie said. “We all have our secrets.”

Everly stared at them both, slack-jawed. “What secrets do you have? We’ve been best friends for years.”

“Can’t tell you.” Indie winked. “Then they wouldn’t be secrets.”

While laughing along with the others, I spotted my mother waving to me from the side of the ballroom. She’d greeted us at the door when we first walked in, but now that she was alone, I wanted to formally introduce her to Ben. I took his hand in mine.

Twenty-seven plus twenty-seven. “Ready?”

“To talk to your mom again?” Ben asked. “I think I can handle it.”

“Not if you’re being introduced as Quinn’s boyfriend,” Indie teased.

“At least I’m dressed to impress.” He stroked his thumb across my hand, each touch making a direct connection with my heart.

Mom eyed our joined hands as we approached, but managed a friendly smile.

Suddenly nervous, I squeezed Ben’s hand. “Mom, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Benjamin Knight.”

“Hello there, Ms. Mitchell.” Ben let go of my hand to shake hers.

“Please, call me Imani.” Mom smiled. “Nice to see you again. Olivia’s car still looks good.”

“Glad that I could help out.”

Mom cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Ben, but could you please give us a minute to talk?”

“Of course. I’ll be right over there.” He pointed to the table where Everly, Joy, and Indie sat, no doubt trying to read our lips.

The moment he was out of hearing distance, Mom turned to me. “When did this new development happen?”

I fought the urge to fidget with my dress. “Ben and I went to Las Vegas last weekend, and things just kind of happened from there.”

“Again?” my mother asked.

Again? What did she mean by that?

Mom flashed me a wry smile. “Darling, a psychology project that required you to spend time in Las Vegas? Please. I wasn’t born yesterday. I realized you were going there to see your father.”

Now I froze. All this time, I thought I’d hidden the truth from her. I didn’t want Mom to believe that my search for our father meant she wasn’t enough. Because she was. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Mom took my hand in hers. “Don’t you dare apologize! It makes sense you’d want to understand where you came from.”

So she’d known all along. And yet she’d never said a word.

“Well?” my mother said quietly. “Did you meet him?”

I shook my head. “He never showed up.”

Mom sighed. “I should have talked to you about this sooner, but I figured you needed your own time and space to figure things out. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.” Dad’s rejection still stung, but being with Ben that night had taken away much of the hurt. “And the funny thing is, I didn’t go through it alone.”

“Because you had Ben? Thomas told me about your divorce. He is my lawyer too, you know.”

I couldn’t understand why she was so calm about it. “Why aren’t you mad?”

“You took care of it. You always do. Even when you were younger, you used to watch out for Olivia. But that’s in the past. What I’m curious about now is how you and Ben got together this second time around.”

I thought back to our trip to Las Vegas and the ensuing fight. “It’s a long story. One probably best shared after tonight’s event. Maybe over our weekly dinner?”

“Alright. It’s a date.” Mom’s expression softened. “Does he treat you well? Does he respect your accomplishments?”

She was asking specifically because my father never had. He couldn’t stand that his wife was more successful than him. But I never had that problem with Ben.

“He accepts and cherishes all of me—my insecurities, my nervous tendencies, and my victories. And he helps me see a different side of myself and life.”

“Good. Then I look forward to getting to know him better. Bring Ben along to our next dinner. I have one or two questions I’d like to ask him as well.” She gazed around at the ballroom filled with people. “We did a good job, Quinn. The hospital will be able to do so much with all these donations.”

Soft music drifted from the band we’d hired to perform, and everywhere people were chatting, eating, or studying patient photos and the 3D models of the proposed expansion. One woman in a stunning emerald gown caught my eye, and when she turned around, I gasped.

It was Julie from LoveMate. I felt the blood drain from my face. Earlier in the week, I’d gone in to collect my stuff from M Studios, and they’d refused to allow me back upstairs. Instead, Steven had left a box containing my meager personal belongings at the security desk. It had stung walking out of the building that day.

Julie spotted me and headed in our direction.

“Please excuse me. There’s someone I need to talk to,” I said to my mother, feeling like I was about to be sick. Since Mom was in charge of the guest list, I hadn’t realized Julie was on it.

“Of course.”

Placing one high heel in front of the other, I walked toward what was guaranteed to be an uncomfortable conversation. No doubt Steven would have told Julie and Naisha awful things about me, and I could only hope that Julie would at least give me the opportunity to share my side of the story, especially since I wanted to continue working in this field.

“Quinn? I thought it was you.” Julie smiled at me, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What are you doing here? How are you connected to the hospital?”

“My mother helps organize the event every year. This time, she asked for my help.”

“Oh, I see.” She stared at me as if I were some bug she was thinking of squashing.

Not wanting to drag this out any further, I launched straight into it. “I’m not sure what Steven told you, but I was let go for unfair reasons. They initially chose me to head up your project because I have the programming skills to make it work. After our last meeting, I looked forward to running your data and making any necessary changes.”

“But you didn’t.” Her tone was accusatory.

“Right. I had to take some time off this past weekend. Steven and my team tried to clean the data and run the model, but something went wrong. I told him I’d fix everything first thing Tuesday, but he insisted I return to the office during my vacation to fix his mistakes.

“I apologize for not delivering what I promised, but I wasn’t given a chance to. Because I wouldn’t return to work before Tuesday, I was fired. And, truthfully, if you’d told me up front that the due date was Monday, I wouldn’t have agreed to it because it would have been impossible to deliver a product that I was proud of.”

Julie’s brows raised. This was good. She wasn’t yelling at me and I got a chance to share my side of the story.

“Anyway, thanks for listening. And, again, I’m sorry for the way things turned out.” I was about to walk away when Julie said, “Wait.”

There was a warmth in her voice that had been lacking before, and for a second, I dared to hope that she was no longer as upset.

“Steven told us that you deliberately messed up the model. He said you were caught trying to sell your work to a rival company, and that’s why he fired you.”

Those were all lies. Why would he spread such malicious rumors about me? “None of that is true.”

“So there was no other competitor?”

How could I make her understand? “If the number of competitors was x, and we were trying to solve an equation to figure out how many rival companies I was trying to sell my model to, the answer would be zero. X equals zero.”

Julie coughed behind a closed fist. “I see. And you did most of the coding?”

“Not most. All of it.”

“That would explain why Steven said he could no longer work with us even after you left.”

That’s right. Good luck finding someone who could do what I did. “Seems Steven screwed us both over.”

“It does appear that way.”

It was a relief to know that the truth was finally out. But there was still one aspect that bothered me. “Why did you change the deadline to Monday?”

Julie’s brow furrowed. “We had nothing to do with that. Steven volunteered to get the project completed earlier than promised.”

I let her words sink in. All those text messages urging me to come back. For what? For a deadline that he himself had moved.

“So, what are your plans now, Quinn?” she asked.

Usually, I’d have my week scheduled beforehand. But after Vegas and getting fired, I’d decided to take things day by day. “I’m taking a break for a month, and then I’ll start looking for work. It’ll be hard after being fired, but I’m hoping to get some references from previous clients.”

Julie rummaged through her purse and pulled out a business card. “Before you apply anywhere, send me your résumé. Naisha and I were impressed by everything you showed us. If your references check out, we’d love to have you join us full time.”

It was too good to be true. I stared at her card in amazement. “Really?”

“Definitely. Anyone who can code and put together an event like this would be an asset to our team.”

I shook her hand. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” Feeling as if I were walking on air, I returned to my table of friends with a permanent smile glued to my face.

“Who was that?” Everly asked.

“Julie from LoveMate. It’s the dating app I was working on before Steven fired me. I told her what really happened at work, and she wants me to send her my résumé.”

“Replace the bosshole with a new girl boss? I say we drink a toast to that,” Indie said, raising a glass of champagne.

Joy, Everly, and Ben followed her lead.

“To Quinn,” Indie said. “For throwing an excellent party, possibly getting a new job, opening her heart to love, and being the Vegas Vixen I always knew she was.”

“To Quinn,” the others echoed.

While Joy, Indie, and Everly chatted amongst themselves, Ben walked around to my side of the table.

“Come with me,” he murmured in my ear. “I want to show you something.”

I took his hand, and we walked out onto the patio, away from the crowds of people inside. Above us, the moon hung low in the sky, and if I hadn’t known basic astronomy, I’d have believed it was almost low enough for me to touch.

“It’s a lovely night, don’t you think?” Ben wrapped his arms around my waist, and together, we gazed up at the sky.

“Did you know that the moon’s the largest and brightest object in our night sky?” I asked. “It’s responsible for Earth’s tides.”

“I did know that.” Ben gently kissed my cheek. “I’m a surfer, remember?”

I curled in closer to him, enjoying how his body felt against mine. “Well, did you also know that the moon moderates our planet’s axis wobble? It helps to stabilize our climate.”

Ben turned me around and placed a tender kiss on the tip of my nose. “That, I didn’t know.”

The touch of his lips was featherlight, but it did something only a piece of fine chocolate could do—it coaxed a sigh from my lips. I stared into the handsome face of the man I loved. “Did you know that you’re my moon, Ben? You’re one of the brightest things in my world, and you stabilize my tendency to worry and plan.”

“Good.” He kissed me again, this time on my forehead, and I heaved a sigh of frustration.

“But you’re also a terrible kisser,” I mumbled.

Ben chuckled. “I’ll have you know, princess, that I am an excellent kisser.”

Was that so? “Then prove—”

Before I could finish, Ben pulled me in for a breath-stealing, stomach-dropping, toe-curling kiss.

“How was that?” He studied me, his eyes glittering and smug.

Wow. I cleared my throat. “Acceptable. But we might need to practice kissing a few more times until we get it just right.”

Ben’s eyebrows arched. “Is that so?” He twirled me out, then back in before dipping me low, just like we practiced in swing dance class. “Then I look forward to years of practicing with you. I love you, my Quinnie Bear.”

“I love you, too, my Benjamin Knight.”

DID YOU ENJOY THIS BOOK?

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~Ginger Li

ALSO BY GINGER LI

Knitting Club Gals Sweet Romance Series

The Dating Pact (Everly and Wyatt)

The Baking Pact (Joy and Aiden)*

The Faking Pact (Quinn and Ben)**

East Beach High Sweet Romance Series

XOXO, Piper (Book 1)

XOXO, Violet (Book 2)*

XOXO, Olivia (Book 3)**

* Violet is Joy’s niece.

** Quinn is Olivia’s older sister.

Light and Fire YA Fantasy Series

Half-Blood Mage (Book 1)

The Lady Thief (Book 2)

Haven of Smoke and Shadows (Book 3)

A Heart So Dark (Book 4)

Light and Fire Complete Boxset (Books 1-4)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ginger loves the color yellow, baked goods, and all things Halloween. When she's not busy playing with kids, she enjoys reading, gardening, listening to sappy pop music, and dreaming up love stories. Ginger lives on the East Coast with her husband and two Pokemon-loving boys.

To find out more about Ginger and her books, visit here.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Thank you!

Also by Ginger Li

Contents

1. Quinn

2. Ben

3. Quinn

4. Quinn (Fifteen Months Ago)

5. Ben (Same Night, Fifteen Months ago)

6. Quinn (Current Day)

7. Quinn (Same Night, Fifteen Months Ago)

8. Quinn (Fifteen Months Ago)

9. Quinn (Current Day)

10. Ben (Current Day)

11. Quinn (Fourteen Months Ago)

12. Quinn (Current Day)

13. Quinn (One Year Ago)

14. Quinn (Current Day)

15. Ben

16. Quinn

17. Ben

18. Quinn

19. Quinn

20. Ben

21. Quinn

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Also by Ginger Li

About the Author