Chapter Nine
The proposal at the lake was horrific. Josie’s client had been so sure her boyfriend was ready to take the next step but was just too shy, which was why she’d decided to propose. The woman had poured her heart out, exposing her vulnerabilities and her hopes for the future. While Josie had filmed, right in the middle of the woman’s profession of love and dreams, the guy had blurted out that he’d slept with his girlfriend’s best friend.
As he’d shared details she wished she didn’t now know, Josie had stood frozen, the camera still rolling while the girlfriend shoved him into the lake. She’d intervened when the humiliated woman had jumped in and held the jerk’s head under water. Josie had talked the woman away from the guy, then had helped him back to shore. As she’d lugged him onto land, he’d said how much he loved his girlfriend, and in the same breath asked Josie out. She’d been tempted to dunk him herself.
Cold and wet, she drove herself home. When she arrived, she was surprised to see Lincoln’s truck sitting in her driveway. The second she stepped out of her car, he was beside her.
“Shelly heard about the lake incident and called to let me know.” His gaze swept over her like he was looking for injuries. “Are you all right?”
“Nothing a hot shower and dry clothes won’t fix.” She unlocked the door and invited him inside.
“Why don’t you go ahead and shower, and I’ll make you something warm to drink.”
Josie nodded while trying to keep her teeth from knocking together. As soon as she showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweatshirt, she went to the kitchen where Lincoln waited. “Thank you.” She gratefully took the mug of warm coffee he handed her and breathed in the rich aroma. “I knew you were a great breakup boyfriend. It’ll be hard to let you go.” She winked to show she was just teasing, even though she was telling the truth.
“About that…”
She cautiously sipped the liquid and waited for him to continue.
“You know how there are sweetheart ambassadors at the hayride every year?”
“Yeah, it’s always a couple in love.” Still feeling the effects of her client’s botched proposal, Josie snorted at the thought of all that sugary-sweet relationship stuff. “Last year it was Carol and her boyfriend plastered to each other like they were sharing a pair of jeans.” She had more to say about that but stopped, not liking the expression on Lincoln’s face.
“We’re the sweetheart ambassadors this year.”
Josie set her mug down slowly. “We’re the ones who have to announce the bands, dance, and act like we’re crazy about each other the whole time?”
“Pretty much.”
No, no, no.
Josie put her hands on her hips. “Lincoln Bradford, you’d better be lying.” She waited for the “ha-ha, I am,” but it never came. “Who would have nominated us?” She paced back and forth for a second, then stopped and smacked her hand down on the counter. “It had to be your mom or grandmother.”
He started to speak, but Josie was on a roll. “Grayson’s not really the joke-playing kind. Casey wouldn’t do that to me.” Josie narrowed her eyes. “Rafferty!” Just wait until I get my hands on him. Or better yet, she’d tell all the single women in town that he was impotent. Or planning to become a monk.
“It was me.”
Josie opened her mouth but couldn’t get a word out.
He held his hands out, as though to calm her. Like that was happening. “I know what you’re thinking—”
“No, I don’t think you do,” she said as soon as she could speak. She was thinking he’d inhaled something a little more potent than smoke fumes at that fire to do something so out of character. They were supposed to be breaking up!
Lincoln poured himself a cup of coffee, as if his announcement had no bearing on anything. “I ran into one of the council members. He told me that the couple nominated as the sweetheart ambassadors backed out, so I told him that we wanted to do it.”
“No, we don’t want to do it. I want us to stay on track with the breakup.” She didn’t like the way he crossed his arms or the obstinate expression on his face.
“We can’t. At least not yet.”
She could not, under any circumstances, be on display by Lincoln’s side as a woman in love for the duration of the hayride celebration. At some point, as sure as there were red apples, something would go wrong.
“You have to get us out of this because, one”—she held up a finger—“we’re supposed to be setting the stage for our breakup.” Lifting a second finger, she said, “Two, being sweetheart ambassadors gives people the idea that we’ve worked our relationship out.” Taking a breath, she raised a third finger. “Three, it’s a simple fix. Just go to the council member and tell them that you changed your mind.”
“No.”
“No?” Josie sputtered over the word. “This whole charade is my lie.”
“Yes, but now my lie supercedes yours.”
“According to what?”
“It’s a universal law. The fresh lie always triumphs the older lie.”
“Bull, and I’m not doing it.” Given her response to him at the party, if he kissed her again, she might end up clinging to him, and she’d look like an idiot when he pried her away from him. Things were getting too real.
“You have to—the lie is already out there. The script is written, so to speak.” His eyes were begging her to agree.
“I decline the part.”
“When the second party tells a lie that overrules the first lie, then you’re obligated to keep playing your part. It’s in the handbook.”
“What handbook?”
“The lying handbook.”
“No.” Why was he doing this to her? Before, he couldn’t stay far enough away from her, and now he was signing them up for romantic publicity stunts.
“C’mon, Josie. He has influence that can sway the other council members to help the station out financially. I need that. The station needs it. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”
She sighed. She couldn’t argue with that. “You’re right.”
Lincoln clutched his chest and pretended to stagger. “Did you just say that I’m right?”
“Ha-ha. I meant you’re right that the station needs it.”
“Exactly. So how can you refuse?”
She couldn’t. Not when it could help Lincoln and the other firefighters. “Okay. I’ll do it. One crazy-in-love girlfriend coming up. Should we practice?”
“Practice? We’ve ridden on that wagon every year since we were kids.”
She rolled her eyes and advanced on him, trying not to think about what she was about to do. Putting her hands at the waistband of his jeans, she dipped her fingers over the denim on either side of his waist, planning to pull him toward her.
He sucked in a breath and quickly moved her hands away. “You’re not talking about the hayride.”
“No, I’m not. This is something much more involved. We’ll be the center of attention for several hours. There is no way anyone is going to believe we’re in love if you freak out when I touch you like a lover would.”
“I didn’t freak out. You surprised me.”
“And proved my point.”
Lincoln backed up and motioned his fingers back and forth in a “come here” gesture. “Try again.”
“No, because now you’ll be ready for it. The idea is that the touching has to be spontaneous and the other person reacts like it’s happened before.”
“Then you shouldn’t have reached for the good stuff.”
Josie laughed. “My hands were at your sides.”
Without warning, Lincoln scooped her up into his arms and strode into the living room, then dropped her onto the sofa. “Well? How’s that?”
Josie bounced on the cushions, trying to calm her speeding heart rate. “Spontaneous—you get an A for effort. Romantic—a C minus because you dropped me instead of lowering me.”
Lincoln sat on the ottoman. “Tough crowd.”
She shook her head. “No, I proved my point again. You and I are going to be the worst sweetheart ambassadors in the history of Morganville.” She just hoped she could keep her heart out of it. Her lie had spun out of control and she wasn’t sure how things were going to get back to normal. Pretending to be Lincoln’s sweetheart definitely wasn’t the answer.
…
Lincoln had never backed away from a challenge, even when that challenge had “bad idea” plastered all over it. He jerked his thumb toward himself. “I can be romantic.” For some reason, he thought she’d accept that as truth. But she was clearly not team “I believe Lincoln,” because her expression was the poster child for doubt.
She sat up on the sofa. “You’ve seen the sweetheart ambassadors at the hayride, and you think you can do that?”
“A kiss or two? Announce the bands and then dance before getting on the wagon? Easy as pie.” Well, not exactly. But if he kept telling himself that it’d make it true, right? He hadn’t really thought it through when he’d told Martin Hernandez that he and Josie could help out. He’d been focused on how the perfect opportunity to appeal to the council had fallen in his lap.
“While looking at me like you can’t wait to have me alone? Like I’m the greatest thing that ever happened to you? Like you look at me and see your future?”
Her voice sounded strange as she spoke the last word. Like it had cracked or something. “I can do that.”
“Prove it.”
Okay. He was up at bat. He could knock a homerun. No problem.
He used his feet to push the ottoman closer to the sofa. Taking both of her hands in his, he placed them on his thighs, ignoring the way it made his muscles contract. Her hands were cold and he felt that through his jeans, that was all. Angling his upper body toward hers, he put a hand at the back of her neck and gently pulled her head closer to his. He stroked the pad of his thumb across her lower lip.
Her blue eyes were wide, her mouth parted, her breathing fast. Like she was playing along. Josie from a distance was beautiful. Up close, she was spellbinding. He’d been close before, but it hadn’t felt like this then. His heart pounded. His mouth went suddenly, crazily dry. His body tightened up, giving him an ache in places that had no business aching.
Josie’s lower lip was full and soft, and he knew from the couple of times he’d kissed her, tasted as sweet as sugar. Slowly, he leaned closer and gave the slightest brush of his lips over hers, trying to remind himself that he was only proving a point. That he could act romantic enough be a great sweetheart ambassador.
Keeping his mouth on hers, he leveraged himself off the ottoman and onto a cushion beside Josie on the sofa. Her lips were warm, tempting, and he was quickly intoxicated, drunk with the need for her.
Wanting more, he tangled his fingers in her hair, and tasted every ounce of that sweetness like a man who couldn’t bear to let go. When she moaned and opened her mouth, he drank deeper. Heat shot through his body when she clutched his back, pulling him harder into her.
Lowering his hands on her waist, he guided her backward until she was stretched out flat on the sofa, then he shifted his weight so that he was lying half on her, half off. It wasn’t nearly enough. He kissed the side of her neck and trailed his lips from her neck down to— A crash, followed by the hard thump of something hitting him in the small of the back, made Lincoln wrap his arms around Josie’s head and pull her against his shoulder.
With a muffled laugh, she said, “It’s the cat.”
In a move he wouldn’t exactly describe as smooth, he rolled off Josie and landed on the floor. The cat climbed to the back of the recliner beside the sofa and glowered at Lincoln.
“Your neighbor needs to register that thing as a menace.”
Josie sat up and straightened her clothes. “I think he’s lonely.”
Lincoln was glad for the cat interruption because his brain had gone on a temporary vacation. A few more minutes later, and he’d have taken them both to a place that would wreak havoc on their relationship.
“If the cat hadn’t jumped on you, how romantic were you prepared to get to prove your point?” She was still quietly laughing, making light of it.
He was having trouble keeping himself from reaching for her again. Which would be as smart as trying to grab that cat and dress him in a sweater. Avoiding her gaze, not wanting to respond to the question, he stood and walked over to the animal. “You can’t barge in, buddy. It’s rude.”
The cat blinked at him, then yawned and ignored him. Lincoln wished he could ignore the turmoil going on inside of him as easily. I don’t know what to say to myself, much less her.
Josie slid from the sofa and walked up behind him. “Are you planning to go home and change before the hayride?”
He hadn’t been, but it would be the perfect excuse to get some time alone to clear his head, and to convince himself that he’d been playing a part the entire time he’d kissed her.
“I want to check if Grayson changed his mind about going, so I’ll just meet you there.” He paused, then gave her a hug because she looked as uncertain as he felt. He stepped back, intending to bid her a quick goodbye.
Good intentions left a lot to be desired when she raised her hand to his face for a brief touch before she stepped away.
If he didn’t get out of here, he would have to sign up for the master course in making stupid decisions.
Forcing a laugh that sounded fake even to him, he said, “I guess I’ll see you in a little while.”
“I’m going to pick up your grandmother. I promised her I’d give her a ride.”
Puzzled, Lincoln said, “If she’s at Mom’s, I pass by there on the way to my house. I’ll give her a ride.” Josie had scrunched her face up like she was sure he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. “What?”
“She’s getting her engagement rings cleaned.”
The room shrunk, his head spun, and all the air whooshed from his lungs. “For me,” he said flatly.
Josie nodded. “She called me this morning and asked which one I liked. I didn’t know if it was something you’d discussed with her. Not wanting to trip you up if you had, I said I couldn’t pick.”
“I’m going to be the only breakup boyfriend in the world who ends up with a wife.”
“Relax, you know how your grandmother is with matchmaking. This is just what she does.”
“Remind me of that on our honeymoon.”
Josie laughed. “Don’t worry, Lincoln, you’d be the last man I’d ever marry.”
And that should have been the end of that, but something in the way she’d said it put his back up, like it was a replay of Savannah dumping him because he wasn’t good enough. “Why is that?” he demanded.
She put her hand on her forehead like a headache was brewing. “Because you’d never ask me to.” Tilting her head, she gave him one of her are-you-done-yet looks.
“If I was going to make the mistake of getting married, you’d probably be the first woman I’d think of.” He’d meant it as a compliment, but the words came out all mixed up. Just like he felt inside.
“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet. I would just love being the first mistake you think of.” When she gave him an irritated glare, he knew he’d better tread carefully.
“I didn’t mean that you’d be a mistake, but that if I ever do make the mistake, you’d be the one I’d make it with.”
“As wonderfully tempting as a life of mistakenly ever after sounds, I’d better get going to pick up Jean.” She walked away from him to get her purse and car keys. “Let the cat out and lock up on your way out. Dear.”
He knew that tone. It was the I’m-pissed-off-guess-why one that women used when they were mad. Lincoln sighed. He never had any trouble communicating until it came to Josie. Then it seemed like he was always saying the wrong thing. Like the stupid comment he’d made at his grandmother’s birthday party. That she looked better.
Lincoln slapped his forehead at the memory. But saying that had been better than saying that he’d never get his fill of looking at her. That, no doubt, would have tangled things up between them even more than they already were.