“You want to proposition me?” Walker sputtered.

The rough, roguish expression on his face made every part of Scarlett quiver. This was the kind of man not created on a movie set or in an acting class. He was the real deal. The looks he shot her were all real: dark, broody, and tempting. They weren’t for show. In fact, she was pretty sure this man didn’t know the meaning of acting or pretending. It was evident in the way he snapped at the press to go away without explanation.

He wasn’t Grant, but she didn’t think it was the time to compare the two out loud. He was a Kent. There’d been a huge spread recently done on Grant Kent and one of his Wrecked and Ravaged movies. The highlight had been the fact that he had five brothers. She’d remembered thinking the picture of all of them was like the first half of a firefighter calendar. Every one of them was hot.

They article had gone over how all of the Kent men were amazing in their own way. A Navy SEAL, a country music singer, two football players, and a firefighter. The Kent Brothers were a thing.

She cleared her voice. “Yes, I have a proposition.”

“I assume this isn’t what it’s sounding like.”

“I mean …” She started babbling, feeing even more nervous. “I could compensate you with money.”

“Of course.” His gaze hardened. “Why would I want your money?”

Her mouth went dry.

“Why would I need your money?” he asked, and he sounded a bit terrifying.

Dang, the giant man and his intensity made her nervous. “I don’t know what you would want, but I could pay you for your time. The venue is amazing, and you could sit on the beach for some of it.” Her mind rushed through possibilities of things he might like. “You could row in a canoe.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “I could? I’ve been to L.A. There’s no rowing next to the ocean.”

She wasn’t yet sure if he was naturally angry or if she’d made him angry every time they’d met. Regardless, she snapped, “I bet no one would even bother you if you went into your yoga poses on the beach.”

Rolling his eyes, he let out a breath. “I don’t have time for this.”

She could feel him closing off, but maybe there was chance she could get him to agree. She should have thought this through. If only she were better at selling things. “Look, I can keep you out of most of the activities, except when necessary, and we could count it as our ‘date.’” She made air quotes, trying to be cute.

“Sweetheart, I think this little stint in the stink closet could count as our ‘date.’” He copied her air quote gesture. “Because either you’re going to go out there and tell the press the truth, or I am. That’s my parting gift to you from our ‘date.’ You get to be the one to explain the truth.”

She put on the pouty face she used in movies.

He let out a derisive laugh. “That’s not going to work. Listen, I’ve had enough lies printed about me. I’m done with lies.”

She held his gaze, realizing this man was stubborn. “Why not?”

“Why not?” he repeated, flabbergasted.

“Yeah? Why not?” She knew she sounded a bit spoiled and childish, but she didn’t care. “Why won’t you do it? It’s just four days. Name your price. It’ll be a paid vacation. You can see Grant. I’ll invite him to the wedding.”

At this, he let out a sputtering laugh. “It feels like Grant’s the one who got me into this somehow, so I think I’ll pass.”

She tried to think of some other tactic. “What do you want, then? Name it.”

“Humph. Let’s see … truth, justice, the American way.” He gave her a sarcastic look. “I guess you can’t get that for me, can you?”

Scarlett was losing this battle. She thought of going to the wedding tomorrow, thought of the smirk Kurt would wear. Her father would torture her with the fact that she had lied. “Please,” she begged Walker, her voice shaky. “I can’t show up by myself. I can’t … everyone else in the wedding party will have someone.” It sounded so stupid and lame, but she didn’t care.

“Sorry. I don’t do relationships, not even fake ones.” His face hardened with the same stoicism she’d seen when he was in front of the crowd of people. It looked like he was about to be taken down by a firing squad, and he was going to take it like a man. “Hire some other guy.”

Embarrassment washed over her, and she turned for the door, pushing past him and opening it. “I’m sorry. I never should have done this.” She flung the door back as he stepped out of the way. She rushed out, breathing in fresh air. Her mind was confused, and all she wanted to do was get away from this man.

It didn’t suit to have a man look so committed to not being her fiancé. For all of her wealth and fame, she felt vulnerable.

She rushed down the hallway toward the parking lot. There would be no way she would be staying and talking to these press piranhas.

But as she turned a corner, they saw her. “Hey, there she is!” one of them yelled, and they all stampeded toward her.

She turned and ran, but her heel broke, and she found herself falling. Right before she hit the pavement, strong hands pulled her up and she found herself cradled in Walker Kent’s arms.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t look at her, just held her close and navigated her through a crowd of people.

She heard the piranhas calling behind her. “Scarlett! Walker! Let’s have a quick interview!”

It was humbling to feel this man’s strength. The sweep-you-off-your-feet vibe was something she’d only experienced acting in her movies.

She stared up at him, catching a whiff of his soap-ish scent. No cologne. She inhaled deeper and thought it was some kind of shaving cream. Was it Irish Spring? Whatever it was, she loved it.

They stopped at a blue car. Oh, strike that—not just a car, a Camaro. He put her down and opened the door. “Get in.”

Without hesitating, she did as he commanded. How come being around this man made her feel like she was in the best scenes of a movie?

He dashed around the car and climbed in, pressed a button to turn the car on, and then shifted into reverse, all seemingly in one motion. “This doesn’t mean I’m accepting your offer. It just means I’m getting us away from the vultures.”

She turned and saw a horde of press running toward the car, cameras held up to capture the getaway. “Sounds good to me.”

He gunned it, and she was forced back against the seat. “Get buckled,” he said.

Her heart was racing, and she heard herself laugh. She clicked the seat belt into place. “Done!” The thrill of it all made her giddy.

The side of Walker’s lips went up. “You like fast cars?”

She let out another laugh as he shifted the stick and revved the engine. “Yes, I do.”

“I guess we have that in common.” He focused on exiting and then floored it onto the freeway.

Unable to stop herself, she rolled the window down, feeling the wind in her hair and the freedom of escaping that event. “Whoo!” she yelled out the window.

His window went down too, and he roared out a laugh. “Ah yeah!”

It was dark, and the wind put a chill in the air. Their eyes connected. She saw Walker Kent and that bad-boy expression and the wicked glint in his eyes. The lower pit of her gut fluttered. She wished he would have agreed to be her fake fiancé. It could have been fun.