Chapter Six
Indi
“Turn this way. Put your left hand on Indi’s hip, Blake. No, her hip, not her ass!”
I rolled my eyes and slapped Blake’s hand off my butt as Cinta’s camera flashed again and again. “I know you’re doing this on purpose,” I hissed before plastering on a big fake smile for the photo.
“I’m not. I can’t tell where your hips end and your ass begins under this huge fucking dress,” Blake said, slipping his arms around my waist for another shot.
“It’s not that big,” I replied, although he had a point. I’d rented this big puffy princess-style wedding gown from a bridal store for the day, and I hadn’t realized just how long the train was and just how wide the skirt was until I put it on at home before our fake wedding shoot. I swear, it looked different when I tried it on in the store. It was all that stupid overly-flattering lighting.
“Well, I’ll try to keep my hands off you until after the wedding shoot is over,” Blake murmured. “But then I’ll be allowed to touch you, right? Gotta consummate our marriage.”
“I’ll consummate your face with my fists in a minute,” I mumbled.
“That doesn’t make any sense, wifey,” he murmured into my ear.
“Smile, Indi! You look like you just got a terminal illness diagnosis!” Cinta said, lowering her camera for a second. I realized the fake smile had vanished from my face, and I curled my lips up again. “Okay, now you’re just snarling like a Rottweiler, girl.”
She set the camera down on a nearby box.
“Are we done?” I asked hopefully.
“No.” She shook her head. “Just taking a break. Practice your smile, Indi.”
She began to review the shots she’d already taken, and I sighed and turned to Blake. “Why is it so easy for you to fake all this smiling?” He gave me a beatific grin, and I jabbed my finger at his face. “Like that! How do you do it?”
He leaned in close. “Here’s the secret. It’s not fake. I’m quite happy to be fake-marrying you. Even if you look like a cream cake in that massive dress.”
I folded my arms, wishing that I had an actual cream cake to smash into his cocky face right now. “Right. Have you started memorizing our backstory yet?”
He nodded. “Yep. You were my friend’s little sister in my hometown, and I always thought you were cute. You thought I was cute too. We were secret childhood sweethearts for a few wonderful months, but then we didn’t see each other for a while when we both had to move for work and college. We bumped into each other in a restaurant here in the city a couple of years ago, and we rekindled our relationship and were blissfully happy for a whole year before tying the knot.”
“Where?”
“Lakewater, our beloved hometown. It was a spring wedding.”
“Who attended?”
“Only very close friends and family. We wanted to keep things low-key. That’s why hardly anyone remembers that we got married…right?”
I nodded, satisfied. “Right. Good. Why was our relationship a secret when we were kids?”
“We didn’t want your brother to know because we knew he wouldn’t approve. A sort of modern-day Romeo and Juliet, minus all the death and mayhem.”
“And what are our issues now that we’re married?” I asked. Seeing as the reality show was for couples with serious issues, we needed to have that part of our backstory sorted as well.
He frowned, looking upwards as he tried to recall. “Er…you have a porn addiction and neglect me all the time, and I nag you way too much.”
I shook my head and laughed. “Other way around, smart-ass.”
“Why do I have to be a porn addict?” he asked with a lifted brow.
“Well, you look like one,” I said with a snort. I narrowed my eyes as I looked him over. “By the way, I forgot to ask. Where did you hire a suit like that on such short notice?”
He’d shown up to our faux wedding photo shoot in Frobisher Park wearing a tux that made him look like a more handsome version of James Bond. It was clearly very expensive, given the gorgeous fabric and the beautiful cut, and if I didn’t know any better I’d say it was bespoke. It fit him like a damn glove. He looked incredibly debonair, and it was almost enough to make my mouth water until I remembered who he was and how much I wanted to kick him in the nuts.
“Only thing that’s been hired here is me,” he said. “Mr. Husband For Hire.”
My eyebrows knitted together. “You actually own the suit?” I asked. He nodded, and my eyes widened. “Why? I thought you worked down at the port. No offence, but are there all that many upscale wine mixers and cocktail parties in that line of work?”
“I do work at the port. Sort of. And I guess we have the odd party or two,” he replied, ever the mysterious bastard who wouldn’t give me a straight answer. Oh well. It didn’t matter. He was here, and he looked like a real groom. That was all that mattered. The rest of his life was none of my business.
“Get back to your positions!” Cinta yelled. “I want one of you two kissing now.”
I shot her a panicked glance. “What?”
She put her hands on her hips. “You want this to look realistic, right? The most important thing to have is a kiss-shot. It’s not real, so it’s fine. Right, Blake?”
Blake nodded, shit-eating grin still quirking his lips up. “Right.”
I let out a sigh which more closely resembled the sound an angry bull might make. “Fine.”
“You may kiss the bride,” Cinta announced, lifting her camera.
Blake looked down at me, eyes flashing with undisguised lust, and he lowered his face to mine. “I don’t bite,” he murmured.
“Well, I do,” I replied.
Before I could even try to say anything else to put him off, he crushed his lips against mine, and I moaned. The kiss was immediately intense, powerful and seductive, and before I knew it, I was returning the gesture in full force.
To be honest, I hadn’t kissed a huge amount of guys, so I had fairly limited experience. But still, I knew enough to know I’d never been kissed like this. Blake was making love to my mouth with his tongue, forcefully pushing past my lips and claiming me as his with every swipe. My breath caught in my throat as he deepened the kiss, arms wrapping around me, and I moaned again as heat grew between my thighs.
Our marriage was fake, and so was this photo, but the kiss was far from it. It was real. Beyond real, and beyond amazing. I couldn’t stop. Blake’s mouth was a drug, and I was addicted.
“Okay, that’s enough. Jeez, guys,” Cinta called out. I could barely hear her. My body was feverish, overheating beneath all the white layers of fabric, and Blake didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping.
Our lips clashed over and over until he finally broke away, leaving me breathless. My chest heaved, and I touched a finger to my mouth, my lips still tingling. Blake winked, and I knew he hadn’t missed how flushed I was now; how hot my skin was at the mere thought of another kiss like that.
That was the worst part. I could swear up and down all day that I didn’t like Blake, but deep down, I knew I already wanted more. Wanted him to take my breath away again. Wanted this relationship to be real.
Oh, lord…
I was in serious trouble.