Walker walked into the drinks-and-dinner party held in the hotel bar area. The bar opened up onto a deck lit with bright white lights. There were flowers everywhere, and tasteful music played in the background. The deck led to a dock and the beach. It reeked of wealth. Maybe that could really be bottled into cologne. He grinned to himself, amused by his own joke.

He’d showered and changed into jeans, a white T-shirt, and a jacket for dinner as Brent had told him to wear. When he’d told Brent he didn’t bring any jackets, a concierge had shown up at his room with a couple to choose from. Walker had sighed. “Rich people.” It was so strange to him, even still, that people lived this way. He’d grown up dirt-poor, and even though he had just signed a million-dollar contract, he still felt like the same kid who’d always jumped at the chance for a lawn-mowing job. He didn’t belong with these people.

The funny thing about today was that Walker actually liked Brent, and he’d liked the other groomsmen, but the infamous Kurt hadn’t been there. It’d been nice to relax and race cars. It was one of those testosterone-filled activities with a lot of adrenaline, and he’d loved it. He’d always been a bit jealous of Grant for getting to drive all those cars in his Wrecked and Ravaged movies.

Now, he grinned. He could tell Grant he’d done it, felt the speed in his hands, and commanded the car to perfection. He would do it again. No doubt. Impulsively, he pulled out his phone and tried to call Grant. He needed to tell Grant about the white lies he needed him to keep, but he also wanted to talk about racing cars.

Voicemail. Dang. He pressed end and sent him a text. Call when you get a sec, bro. I got to race cars. He paused, then sent another. I’m at a wedding with Scarlett pretending to be her fiancé. Make sure you tell people you knew about us if they ask.

Putting his phone away, he looked around. He was early for drinks and dinner. On the dock, a table was being put together with candles and little pictures of the bride and groom. It looked very personalized, and he thought about how Scarlett had mentioned the bride wanted crafts. He let out a light laugh. Dang, people were crazy.

Walking over to the bar, he ordered a water. He didn’t drink, hadn’t since he’d gotten back from the army. He had thought if he started after being dishonorably discharged and the mental junk he was going through, he might never stop.

He thought of that kiss on the beach. It had been hot. He hadn’t meant it to be that good. He’d just meant to shove it in her father’s face, like she wanted. But the woman smelled so good. He tried to pin down her smell. Flowers? Fruit? Her body had easily pressed against him. When she’d put her arms around his neck, the rest had just felt so natural. Her lips had been soft and yielded to him so easily. Their second kiss ever hadn’t been too shabby, if he did say so himself.

He thought of Laura. It’d been three years since that stupid accident and he still missed her like crazy. What had she smelled like? He tried to remember, but he couldn’t.

Refocusing, he thought of Kurt. The urge to meet him had grown. He already wanted to slam the guy’s face in the wall, which kind of shocked him. He didn’t know Scarlett that well, but he was already feeling protective of her. With a sigh, he took another sip of water. He needed to stay focused and not get too attached.

“I cannot believe you kissed me like that back there.”

Jolting, he hadn’t realized she was right next to him. Glancing down at her, he saw she had cleaned up too. Her red autumn hair was in soft curls around her shoulders. She smelled even fruitier. She was a bit dressy, wearing a white flowing shirt with a fancy flowing skirt. He grinned at her. “You seemed to enjoy it.”

She glared at him. “No, I didn’t.”

He scoffed. “I was there, and I felt you kiss me back.”

“Listen, I didn’t appreciate the physical contact.”

Turning, he cocked an eyebrow at her. “How are we supposed to be engaged without any physical affection?”

“Only when—”

“Necessary,” he filled in with her, liking that she was flustered. “I know, you’ve mentioned it.” He wanted to tell her that if he was her real fiancé, he would kiss her any dang time he pleased, but he restrained himself.

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her eyes flashed open. “Please just have … discretion.”

He just smiled, because he actually did want to kiss her again. She wore red lipstick that matched her hair, and all he could think about was whether the lip gloss was flavored like the one she had worn earlier. He had been thinking of the flavor of her lips the whole time he’d driven fast cars. “Fine.” He looked away from her, seeing one of the groomsmen he’d met racing cars saunter in.

Letting out a long sigh, she stayed close to him. “The only reason that kiss was good is because it rattled my father, so nice job.”

“The only reason, huh?” He watched the quip hit home as her cheeks reddened, and he took another sip of water. “Glad I’m getting the mission done.”

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

“Walker,” she said insistently, reeling in his wandering attention. “We need to talk about tonight. My brother stopped by the room and said how cool you were. Which is okay. I want my brother to have fun, but we need to figure out something uncool for you to do that will—”

“Simultaneously annoy your father and bug your ex.”

She nodded.

“That’s a fine line,” he said. Much as he liked his bad-boy persona, he didn’t want to ruin Brent’s wedding.

She let out a breath. “I know. That’s supposed to be your arena. Be a jerk, be a bad boy, be mysterious. Have them wonder why I’m with you.”

“Wow, if this could just be the prescription for all my relationships.” He winked at her.

Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a relationship.”

He grunted, finding it less amusing when she was using his words against him. “Oh, believe me, I know.” His eyes darted around the area. He needed the whole scope of the field. “Did you see your ex–best friend yet?”

“Yeah.” Scarlett’s lip trembled—whether from anger or sadness, he couldn’t say. “I did. She pretended it was all fine because I have you now. Like her cheating with Kurt was meant to be because it led me to you.”

“Wow.” He let out a breath. “That stinks.”

Her brow furrowed and she waved a hand through the air. “It’s fine. Let’s just focus.” The wedding party flooded into the bar and toward the tables. She pasted on a smile and then took his hand. “We hold hands. That’s it.”

“Got it. No kissing unnecessarily, hold hands, be a jerk.”

They moved toward the table. As they stepped onto the dock, Walker nodded at her brother, then scanned the faces over the guests. Right when he met eyes with Kurt, he knew who it was.

Because he was staring at Scarlett like he wanted to rip her head off.

The air became a bit chilly. They were going to sit across the table from each other. The night had just gotten interesting.

Walker turned and noted Scarlett had frozen, staring back at him.

Other people in the wedding party were still getting settled. Kurt put on a fake smile, shifting his gaze to Walker. “You must be Lettie’s new someone.”

Lettie? The cutesy nickname felt intimate somehow, even though he thought it was stupid. He nodded, not bothering with the fake niceties. “Yep.” He went into military “at ease,” straightening out his posture and meeting the guy’s eyes. He’d learned how easy it was to say a lot by saying nothing.

The guy had the nerve to stick out his hand across the table. “I’m Kurt Stewart.”

Walker ignored Kurt’s hand entirely, letting it hang lamely in the air before he pulled it back.

Scarlett cleared her throat. “Baby, maybe we should sit.”

Brent appeared at his side. “There’s the rock ’em, sock ’em race car driver.” He gave his arm a fake punch.

Walker relaxed and smiled at him. “You were pretty good too, dude.”

Brent laughed and spoke across him to Scarlett. “I like this guy, Scarlett. You did good.”

For some stupid reason, Walker appreciated the compliment.

Scarlett nervously giggled and tugged his arm toward her. “Sweetie, I haven’t introduced you to some of the wedding party. Let’s walk around and meet everyone.” She tugged him away from the table and leaned in to him. “I think my brother has a crush on you.”

This made Walker smile even wider. He followed her.

Scarlett stopped next to a tall, blond woman. “This is Tami Friday, a close friend of Charlene’s from design school.”

He nodded. “Hi.”

Tami grinned at him, looking a bit like she wanted to eat him. She gave him a little wink. “Hi.”

Scarlett continued. “I think you met Victor racing cars. He went to law school with Brent.”

Victor grinned and put up a fist in the air. He was Italian, and they’d had fun today. Victor had promised him he would have his mother make Walker linguini some time. He fist-bumped back.

Scarlett passed a woman who he knew was the former best friend. “This is Marissa,” she told him, not bothering to pause. She glossed over the next couple of people. “You just met Kurt. You met my father and Liz.”

Her father nodded with a somber face. Liz smiled at him, a smile that Walker thought looked fitting for a soap opera villain. His mother had loved soap operas, even though she would always turn it off really fast when the boys would come into the room. He nodded to all of them.

She gestured to a pretty brunette next to Brent. “This is Charlene, my brother’s fiancée.”

Charlene shot to her feet, darted around behind Brent, and hugged Walker, much to his surprise. Her eyes were wet. “Welcome to the family.”

Even if it was all fake, Walker thought, it was real to Scarlett’s family. Unexpected guilt writhed in his gut as he thought of how he was fooling Brent and Charlene. “Thank you.”

Charlene went back to her seat, and Brent took her hand and smiled back at Walker. “And I’ve met him, sis. Unfortunately, today he kicked my butt on the racetrack.” He let out a happy laugh. “That was his first time too.”

Walker and Scarlett sat back down at the table. When his eyes met Kurt’s again across the table, he didn’t feel bad anymore. He only felt the same driving need to slam the guy’s head into a wall as he had earlier.

Her father cleared his throat and looked at Scarlett. “We’re happy you and—” He paused, and the pause truly said so much. “—we’re happy you both could make it to the festivities.”

Kurt suddenly coughed. “Loser.”

Walker’s eyebrows lifted. Wasn’t that the exact kind of rude thing he should doing right now, not Kurt? He let his gaze settle on Kurt, along with everyone else at the table.

Marissa elbowed him. “Stop.” She glanced at Scarlett, but Scarlett wasn’t looking at Marissa; instead, she was glaring at Kurt.

Her father held Kurt’s eyes. “Kurt, did you have something to say?”

Kurt grimaced, picking up his glass and gesturing to them with it. “I just think this guy owes us an explanation. You show up out of nowhere with a guy who couldn’t even serve his country right?”

Marissa put a hand on Kurt’s arm. “Kurt.”

He yanked it away. “No, I’m serious. How come we didn’t have any warning? Now we’re stuck with a guy we don’t know if we can even trust.” He looked around at the other guys and gestured to Walker. “Don’t any of you care about this? It’s weird. Look at him. He’s huge, and he’s dangerous-looking.”

Every part of Walker tensed, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t had to live down the stories in the press the whole year. He wouldn’t lie, though: the fact Kurt admitted he was dangerous-looking made him glow with pride.

“Stop it,” Scarlett said quietly to Kurt, her voice deliberately even.

Marissa tried to calm him too, putting her hand on him again.

Acting like a child, Kurt yanked his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

Marissa frowned and then looked down, clearly embarrassed.

Kurt scoffed and leaned toward Marissa. “You told me you had the same concerns earlier.”

Marissa’s face turned red. “Do. Not. Do. This.”

Kurt let out a breath and pointed at Marissa. “And I hate that dress. I told you not to wear it.”

Marissa burst out crying and stood, running from the table.

Charlene smacked the table. “Kurt! Look what you’ve done!”

The tension between all of them was off the charts.

With an unremorseful look, Kurt shifted his gaze from Charlene, scanning the table. “Marissa is just being dramatic. She’ll get over it. Plus, this isn’t about me, you guys.” He rolled his eyes and pointed to Walker. “I think the guy owes us an explanation if he’s going to wedding crash.” He turned and gestured to Brent and Charlene. “Both of you should demand to know the truth about him.”

If this were a different scene, different people, and he wasn’t getting paid for this charade, Walker would have loved slamming the guy’s head into the table. He figured he could do it in one motion without even going around to Kurt’s side of the table. But this wasn’t his movie to star in. He turned to Scarlett, silently asking what she wanted him to do. It seemed like Kurt had taken over the jerk role.

“That’s enough,” Brent said, staring Kurt down.

Kurt’s gaze swung to Brent.

Brent’s face was tight. “As you pointed out, it is mine and Charlene’s wedding, and I want my sister to have her fiancé here as well. Just because we haven’t known him very long doesn’t mean we get to sit in judgment.” He turned a grin to Walker. “Plus, this is a party, and the guy can sure drive a racecar.” Jokingly, he grinned at Kurt. “Woulda whooped your butt on the track if you had come today.”

For a moment, no one was sure what Kurt would do, but he only crossed his arms and frowned at Walker.

Scarlett’s father cleared his throat. “Are you done, Kurt?”

Kurt gave a small nod.

“Okay.” Her father swung to Brent. “We’re here to celebrate my son and his beautiful soon-to-be wife, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Charlene.” He held up a glass of wine.

Everyone lifted their glasses and waited.

“To truth. To love. And to marrying the right person for you.” Her father glanced at Scarlett, then back to Brent. “To Brent and Charlene’s happiness.”

Brent graciously turned to them and held up the glass. “And to my sister’s happiness.” He winked at her.

“Thank you.” She smiled at Brent. “We are happy,” she said in a challenging tone, and before Walker knew it, Scarlett was leaning in to kiss him.

After dinner, Walker had done the gentlemanly thing and walked Scarlett to her room, all the while teasing her about kissing him unnecessarily. But he hadn’t expected to have her father waiting for him in front of his cabin.

Hesitating, Walker noticed a spiral of smoke coming from the man’s lips.

Tyrone held out the pipe for a minute and blew the smoke into the air slowly. “Men don’t enjoy good cigars anymore.”

Walker felt like he’d walked straight into an ambush. “Sir,” he said, trying to measure the man’s mood.

Her father gestured to two chairs propped on the little porch. “Sit for a minute?”

Walker paused, then nodded. “Okay.” He didn’t feel nervous. He reasoned that none of this was real, so okay, he would endure the threats from a father to his daughter’s fiancée. That was fine. He slowly sat.

Her father sat too, taking another drag off of the cigar and blowing it the other way. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he pulled out another cigar and held it up to Walker. “Want one?”

“No, thanks.” Walker held up a hand. He hated cigars, thought they smelled awful.

Her father nodded and leaned back into the chair.

The silence was oddly loud.

Her father tapped the edge of the cigar on the side of the chair to get rid of the ash. “You see, I think the men who understand a fine cigar are the same men who understand the finer things in life.”

Walker couldn’t stop the grin on his face. If this guy, a soft, rich man from polite society, thought he could intimidate him, he had no idea about the world he came from.

Her father cleared his throat. “You see, there are intricacies to smoking a cigar. Like having the right brand. If you don’t have the right brand, it just tastes horrible. I mean, you just want to spit it out.” His eyes connected with Walker’s.

Walker was getting the gist of this conversation.

Her father cracked a fake smile, took the cigar, and wagged it at him. “It’s important to invest the right amount of money into a good cigar, because the satisfaction comes from the acquired taste of them.”

Walker got all the implied “you are not a fine cigar” references. He waited.

Her father cleared his throat. “Now, your brother, Grant …”

At the mention of his brother’s name, he stiffened.

“Now there’s a man who understands the system, understands where he comes from and where he wants to go.” Her father took another drag on the cigar and blew it out.

Walker seethed. It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep from grabbing her father’s cigar and crushing it in his hand.

A sinewy smile stretched his face. “Ya know, your brother has a lot of potential. I’ve seen his other movies. I’ve seen some of the scenes from the recent movie he and Scarlett were in, and he’s good. He still needs more time, needs to take some of the rough edges off, but he’s good.” He nodded. “The kid could go far, maybe all the way to the top.”

Every part of Walker was on edge.

Her father sighed. “The funny thing about Hollywood is that we’re all so dang connected. When you’re in this world, it feels very small.” He let out another breath. “It would be a shame if something happened to your brother’s career.”

“What are you talking about?” Walker said, unable to keep his silence any longer.

Innocently, he put his hands up. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure he’s fine. He has it all right now. Good looks, good solid foundation, the right people surrounding him. But you know, Walker, life can just court-martial you out of the blue, can’t it?”

Reflexively, Walker stood, poised for battle. How did he know that? “How the—”

“Bup, bup, bup.” Her father stood, his eyes serious. “Quiet now, we wouldn’t want to disturb anyone. Oh, son, sit.”

Walker didn’t sit.

Her father puffed his cigar again, not looking at all bothered. “This is part of what I’m trying to explain to you. This world, my world, is a world where I have lots of connections and lots of people who want to make me happy. Which is hard sometimes, I admit.” He shrugged, and his brow furrowed. “Even though my baby thinks she wants you, thinks you are going to be her fiancé, what she doesn’t know is that will never happen.”

Walker flexed his hand into a fist.

Her father held out the cigar in the air. “Because it’s about so many things, not just you or her or your brother. It’s about legacy. It’s about so many things you wouldn’t understand.”

Walker glared at him.

Now, the cigar was wagging at him again. “As I mentioned, a cigar is usually an acquired taste, much like a fine man …” He trailed off and let out a long breath. “A fine man, heck, that’s an investment too. Especially for a man like me with a daughter as fine as Scarlett.” He cleared his throat. “She can’t be choosing the cigars that aren’t worth the investment, can she?”

Walker hated how powerless he felt.

Her father took another drag on the cigar and then blew the smoke toward him this time, a grin on his face. “I would encourage you to play nice during this wedding, to not embarrass my family, but I will expect you to be gone when it’s done.” He turned away from him. “For your benefit and for your brother’s benefit.”

Walker watched him sauntering off and wanted to kick his butt. “Hey, Mr. Powers,” Walker called out.

Her father turned back.

Walker reached out a hand. “I think I will take a cigar.”

Her father grunted and turned to leave. “Unfortunately, you and I both know you couldn’t handle it, son.”