Having a cameraman and a lighting guy film him prepping steaks to throw on the grill didn’t bother Axl as much as he thought it would. He was good at getting in the zone. He had great concentration skills, and an ability to block out distractions, which he employed right now as he seasoned the New York Strips on a plate on his butcher-block kitchen island. Leighton was next to him, tossing a salad, looking far less comfortable than he felt.

She was talking too fast. “So we’ll do the interviews today and then tomorrow we have a cake tasting scheduled, is that okay? You should sync your calendar with mine so I don’t schedule anything when you have to work.”

He let her run down, like a windup toy. “Babe, I don’t use the calendar on my phone so there’s nothing to sync. I’ll just text you my shifts. Cake tasting tomorrow is fine.” He gave her a smile. “I like cake.”

“You do? Or we could do doughnuts. Do you like doughnuts? Or cupcakes.”

Her voice was starting to rise a little hysterically so Axl set down the container of sea salt down on the countertop. He reached over to Leighton and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I like you.”

Leighton’s lips parted in surprise and she said, “Oh.” Color tinged her cheeks. “I like you too.”

It was the truth. He did like her. She was pretty damn adorable. He leaned over the meat and gave her a soft kiss. “Let’s go put these on the grill.”

“Okay. Sure.” She cleared her throat and turned to her co-workers. “We’re stepping outside to put these on the grill. We’ll be right back.”

“Sure, no problem.” Jackson lowered his camera.

“Do you want a beer or a soft drink or anything?” Axl asked the two guys.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

The other one, who had introduced himself as Brad, accepted a soft drink.

Axl held open his kitchen screen door and Leighton slipped through. He followed her, plate in hand, to the grill that was his pride and joy. It was both charcoal and gas, with a smoker. The granddaddy of grills. As he fired up the propane, he set the plate down and turned to Leighton. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

She nodded and sat down on his picnic table, crossing her legs. She was facing outward, not toward the table. “I’m fine. You?”

“Never better.” With tongs he lifted the steaks onto the grill. “How do you like your meat?” He wasn’t going to lie. He meant that to sound dirty.

Leighton eyed him. “You should know.”

He laughed. “I have a good idea. As for your steak, how does medium rare sound?”

“That sounds perfect.” She glanced around, settling back against the picnic table. “I like your place, Axl. It’s so peaceful here.”

“Thanks. That’s what drew me to it too. I know the house isn’t much, but it works for a single guy like me.” His mother always threatened to decorate it for him, but she knew better than to come into his house and make it feminine. He’d burn it down before he’d let her turn his sanctuary into an ode to Tuscany. They were in Minnesota, not Italy, though his mother never seemed willing to admit that.

“I like the house. It’s cozy.”

“You mean small.”

But she shook her head. “I mean cozy. You can really feel at home. I grew up in a twenty thousand square foot house. There is nothing homey about that, trust me.”

“Damn. I can’t even imagine that. My parents have a standard middle-America colonial. Enough room to get away from my sisters but not so much we could hide from each other.” Axl flipped the steaks on the grill and added asparagus to the basket on the upper rack.

This felt like a normal date. Casual conversation. Getting to know someone. Getting to know Leighton. Except that he already knew her intimately. Had watched her eyes darken with pleasure. Had tasted her pussy and sank his cock inside her. It gave him an easiness around her he didn’t normally feel on a first date. It was an odd juxtaposition.

“I always wanted sisters,” Leighton said. “So desperately.”

“You can have mine,” he joked.

A funny look crossed her face that he couldn’t interpret.

“I forgot my wine inside,” she said, and quickly rose from the picnic table. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be in in two minutes,” he told her. “I don’t want to overcook these.” Nothing worse in his opinion than taking all the pink out of a filet and making it tough to chew.

“Sure.” Leighton ducked inside.

He wasn’t sure she was comfortable with any of this but they did engage in what he thought was easy conversation while they ate. Leighton smiled at him frequently and her voice had returned to a normal pitch. Maybe that was because cameras were off and Jackson and Brad ate with them. After they were finished eating, though, they sat on his couch facing the camera.

Leighton had given Jackson questions to ask them, which seemed ironic. Hopefully easy. She had given him instructions to rephrase the question in his answer, since Jackson asking the questions would be edited out.

The very first one didn’t seem so hard. “What kind of wedding would be your dream wedding? Sky’s the limit.”

Axl shifted on the couch, his hand resting lightly on Leighton’s thigh. “My dream wedding would be outdoors. Small, casual.”

“That’s it? Anything specific you want to add?” Leighton asked him.

“Nope.”

She frowned at him. “That doesn’t make for good TV, Axl. You need to have a specific request or demand. A deal breaker. Something over-the-top.”

He could see her point. That was the way reality TV worked. If they were shopping for houses, they always had some crazy demand like a separate bedroom for their cat. The wedding shows must work the same way. “Okay. I would like to get married on my boat. The actual ceremony, I mean. And I want a wedding cake shaped like a fish. I think that would be cool.”

Her face made it obvious she thought he was insane, but hey, she’d asked.

“I guess if there is a nautical theme the groom’s cake could be a fish,” she said reluctantly.

“Can it be red velvet? I love red velvet.”

“It’s going to look like the fish is bleeding.”

But Axl shrugged. “I mean, the inside of a fish doesn’t look like double fudge.”

Her nose wrinkled, but she did look a little amused. He nudged her knee with his. “What’s your idea of a dream wedding?”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“Liar.” He could tell she had. It looked like an entire wedding start to finish was ready to burst forth from her tongue.

She turned to the camera, taking a deep breath, like she was steeling herself to be on camera. “My dream wedding would be in an English garden, with roses everywhere. An arch made of roses, rose petals in the aisle.” She started to get in to it, her hand coming up to indicate the arch. “I want a bubble machine, pearl divers, and champagne bottles descending from the ceiling. Oh!” She turned to him excited. “The Queen Mary! Or the Titanic! That would be the perfect aquatic meets upscale theme.”

“Baby, the Titanic sank and almost two thousand people died. I don’t think a watery grave is a good wedding theme.” Or a good theme for any party. Slightly too gruesome. Actually, a lot too fucking gruesome.

“True. Good point. But the Queen Mary would be amazing.”

“Except that thing is docked in LA, correct?”

“It’s my dream wedding,” she said in protest. “We’re just collecting ideas so the perfect surprise wedding for us can be planned.”

“But you’re planning it. So it’s not a surprise.”

She wrinkled her nose at him again. “You’re not getting it.”

“Nope. Not one bit.” He reached out and tapped her nose. “But I trust you to get it. I’m just here for the cake and the wedding night.”

Jackson laughed from behind the camera. “Dude. I feel ya on that.”

“That’s tacky,” Leighton said.

“I never claimed to be classy.” He gave her a grin. “Sure you want to marry me?”

Leighton bit her lip, as if she were giving it actual thought and this wasn’t an elaborate scheme to save their asses at work. “Yes,” she said softly. “I’m sure.”

Without warning, he felt his gut twist. Her words sounded so sweet. So real. He studied those lips, so full and pink and perfect. Then he covered her mouth with his in a kiss that was spontaneous but also necessary. Because if he let her see into his eyes she might uncover the truth. That yes, he liked being alone. But he was also lonely.

He didn’t admit that to himself very often. But he was resigned. Women he’d dated had made it damn clear he didn’t give enough. If three girlfriends had all said that, the problem was clearly him.

Ignoring those thoughts, he pulled back and told her, “You can have anything you want. You deserve roses and champagne and fine dining.”

His gut twisted again.

He must be hungry.

That was the only reasonable explanation.

Not that he was falling for Leighton for real.

---

Leighton was having trouble breathing and it had nothing to do with a panic attack. The way Axl looked at her was robbing her of all the air in her lungs. It reminded her of the way he had stared down at her intently when he was buried deep inside her body. She felt herself shift closer to him on the couch so that their legs were touching.

“This is your wedding too,” she told him. “So fish cake it is.” He was actually pretty sweet in addition to all his other very sexy attributes. God, she was so attracted to him. He made her feel beautiful and sensual and cherished. Her nipples were hardening in her bra and she felt the sudden urge to cross her legs to quiet the desire sparking to life.

Of course none of this was real, so it was easy for him to say she could have her roses.

That thought threw metaphorical ice water on her libido. She broke their eye contact and swiveled so she was facing the camera again. “Next question, Jackson.”

“What is the most important part of the wedding day?”

It was a polarizing question. About fifty percent of the time it resulted in the groom saying something like “the open bar.” It was designed to gauge if he was a sentimental groom or a joking kind of guy. That way they could direct events and footage to either go for the tears or to come off as a big entertaining party.

Axl surprised her. She had assumed he would make a joke about it. But he said, “The most important part of the wedding day is the first time you see the bride. That’s a really special moment. Knowing this woman is willing to walk through life with you.”

Leighton turned to him in amazement. Damn it. She was toast. The man was hot and romantic. It just wasn’t fair. How was she supposed to stay distant and professional when he said things like that?

Maybe he was a phenomenal actor. But he seemed too straightforward of a man to be pulling platitudes out of his ass.

“How about you, Leighton?”

She’d forgotten Jackson and Brad existed. Now she removed her hand from Axl’s knee, where it had mysteriously wound up and turned to the camera, forcing herself to not drop her eyes down. “The most important part of the wedding day is the vows. My parents have been married for thirty years and I want the same thing. A lifetime.”

It was the truth. She wanted all or nothing. No dabbling in marriage. No playing house with a boyfriend. Some people might want to live together indefinitely but that wasn’t for her. She needed a commitment.

Ironic then, that Axl had already told her he had commitment issues. Or intended to stay single, anyway.

They were playing a dangerous game here.

She reminded herself what was at stake. Losing her job. Moving back in with her parents. Their disappointment. Her own feeling of failure. She’d never get another job in the industry because she had signed that damn non-compete clause. She could only work for another show if Wedding Crashers went off the air. Even if she was fired.

Fortunately, Jackson seemed to be in a hurry to get through the questions. Since he wasn’t the one who usually asked them, he seemed annoyed by the role. His words were monotone.

“What colors do you want to showcase at your reception?”

“Blush,” she said with zero hesitation.

“I don’t even know what that is.” Axl stretched out his legs and said, “I think blue is a good color. It’s solid.”

She wasn’t sure what made a color “solid” but she was fine with it. “How about teal?”

“Is that blue?”

“Yes.”

“Then sure.”

“Blush and teal go well together.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” Leighton realized she had said the very thing that a bride was supposed to say at her wedding. She dragged her tongue across her bottom lip, moistening it.

Axl made a sound in the back of his throat.

“Where did you meet?” Jackson said.

“Online,” Axl said.

“Bachelorette party,” she said, at the exact same time.

“Neither one of those is a good answer,” Brad called out, the beer Axl had offered him halfway to his lips.

Leighton was annoyed. When had he switched from soda to beer? And who said his opinion was needed here? “Next question.”

“What’s your favorite vacation?”

“Go first,” she told Axl.

“Since I got back from my deployment in Afghanistan, I love the trees and water. Nothing with sand. So, my favorite vacation would be renting a cabin on the lake for a week. Fishing and boating.”

“Leighton?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the gardens at Versailles.”

She knew if this were a couple for one of their regular episodes she could take a few different angles. She could play up Axl’s military background, making sure the Marines factored into the reception theme. As for her, she would use her beauty pageant background, even though she had sucked at it. Because viewers would like that whole debutante, rich girl angle. She would clearly emphasize the two worlds colliding in their background. A woodsy outdoors Minnesota ceremony followed by a classic LA nightclub reception.

But that was for two strangers and she didn’t get the impression Axl wanted to be viewed as a military hero. She knew for damn sure she didn’t want to be seen as a rich girl debutante. So she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do for them. Fake or not, she wanted it to be an actual reflection of their tastes. Which was ridiculous. What difference did it make?

“Again, with the death theme,” Axl said. “Weren’t King Louis and Marie Antoinette killed there?”

Gardens had nothing to do with toppled kings. Not really. She made a sound of impatience. “Stop making me sound gruesome! I’m sure people have died on lakes too, you know. Drowning is a thing. Boating accidents are a thing.”

“Fair enough.” Axl turned to the camera. He was very natural facing it, which she thought was interesting. He was way more natural than she was. It hadn’t even fazed him to be recorded while cooking. “So, here’s the thing. Leighton is champagne. I’m beer. In a can. But that’s all wrapping. What’s important is what’s in here.” He tapped his chest. “None of those things matter when there’s love.”

Damn it, he was so convincing. He was so believable that it made an ache build deep inside her, making her wish this was real on some level.

Her heart ached brutally. She wanted a true love. A future with a man who made her feel beautiful. More than she could have possibly realized.

Leighton jumped up with the urgency of when her mother had forced her on a colon cleanse at seventeen to lose weight.

“Interview over. Thanks, that was awesome, guys. Whew, I think we got some great footage.”

Axl eyed her but he didn’t protest. He just stood up and stretched leisurely, like he was stiff. Which made her think of when he was stiff the night before. That magnificent penis. Maybe even majestic. Oh, my. She didn’t mean to look but involuntarily her eyes drifted down below his waistband. He wasn’t hard but she could see the outline of his cock in those jeans. They were snug jeans. Just right jeans. Not pretty boy jeans but working man jeans. Not his gone fishing jeans but more like his date jeans.

Leighton shifted her eyes upward and saw Axl was watching her, amused. “If we’re done, I’ll drop you off at the hotel since I’m heading out for the night.”

What? He was leaving? Leighton frowned. “Oh. Where are you going?”

Oh, Lord, that was so uncool. It was really none of her damn business.

But, well, she had just thought that since they’d both enjoyed sex the night before and everyone thought they were dating, he would want a repeat. She certainly did. They had limited time together. Six nights if her math was on point. That was approximately twelve orgasms that she would like to have, thank you very much.

“It’s poker night with the guys. Every Sunday night. Unless it’s football season. Then we watch the games together.”

“I see.” She didn’t. Every Sunday? She loved Zach and he was her best friend but she didn’t want a standing Sunday date with him. And he would tell her to get a life if she suggested anything of the kind to him. “Have fun then. I’m ready to go whenever the guys are.”

As Jackson and Brad were packing up equipment Axl moved in close to her and bent over to murmur in her ear. “Tomorrow night I’m all yours if you want me.”

She swallowed. “I want.”

He laughed softly and straightened up. “Best thing I’ve heard all day.”

In the car on the way to the hotel Axl said, “How do you think that interview went? I don’t know how any of this stuff works so I couldn’t really tell if I was giving the right answers or not.”

How could he not know how adorable he was? His answers had been sweet and dangerous to her well-being. Because with every response, she had found herself thinking more and more how amazing it would be if any of this were real. It made her want to open her heart and tell him he was a special guy.

But all she said was, “I think the interview was good. You’re actually really comfortable on camera.”

“Must be my two-night stripping career. I’m good with an audience.”

That made her laugh. But suddenly she wanted to know how many women he’d slept with in town. It wasn’t a huge community. Was he a notorious bachelor who had screwed his way around Beaver Bend? She pictured him up on that stage, shirtless. Scratch that. She didn’t want to know the answer to how popular he might be. “I promise we won’t have to do a lot of interviews after this. The hard part is over.”

“So now the fun stuff?” He gave a mocking fist pump. “Yes.”

Leighton laughed. “How did I do? I was nervous.”

“You did good, babe. But you should pull out some of your flirt moves to make it even more authentic.”

She made a face. “You mean my awkward Officer Hottie moves? I’m pretty sure I suck at flirting.”

“What? No, you don’t. I want you to flirt with me.” He squeezed her knee.

“I’ll work on it.” Though she didn’t really want to “bring it” with Axl. She just wanted to be herself.

He smiled. “Just be yourself.”

Damn. He was good.

Leighton was flustered. But she looked out the window to distract herself. It was a beautiful classic small town, with clapboard buildings and plenty of evidence of an outdoor adventure economy. There was a bait shop, a kayak shop, bike rental places, and several seafood restaurants. The boutiques all appeared to be catering to tourists as opposed to residents, with kitschy lamps and life preserver flotation devices repurposed as wall décor in the shop windows.

Axl had a truck and he was driving the speed limit. It was driving Leighton just a little crazy. Who drove the speed limit? No one she knew. Huh. Maybe she had been speeding when he’d pulled her over. Determined not to fixate on how she might be falling for him, she gave him a tight smile. They were weaving slowly through the center of town. Like, really slowly.

Maybe he was driving so slow because he was a police officer who was already in trouble. He needed to toe the line. Maybe in a small town there was no rush to get anywhere.

Leighton enjoyed Axl’s company but she really wanted to reach over and push his foot down harder on the gas pedal. Maybe she had a little more of the city girl in her than she realized. Years of frustrated driving on the freeway in LA, not moving. Going slow when you had the option to go fast was maddening.

“Hmm?” she said because he had said something she hadn’t heard, too busy losing her mind.

“I said that you’re beautiful.”

That made her glance over at him, skeptical. “No, you didn’t.”

“You’ll never know because you weren’t listening to me.”

Damn it. He was right. “I’m scouring venue locations.”

“You’re a terrible liar. Don’t quit your day job for a career in poker.”

“My mother always believes me.”

“Then your mother is a much better liar than you.”

Leighton laughed. “I don’t believe you.” She didn’t. Her mother was disappointed in her in a lot of ways but she did believe that Leighton was honest. Which she was, for the most part. “This is a beautiful town. That is the truth.”

“It is. It’s cold as fuck in the winter but even that has its own sort of beauty. Do you like snow mobiles? Ice fishing?”

Leighton wanted to laugh again, riotously this time, but she held it in. “I haven’t had a lot of experience with those, but I’m sure they’re delightful.” She would never find out though, because she was not going to be here in winter, nor would she be seeing him after the weekend.

Axl pulled into the hotel and parked his truck in the circular drive by the front doors. “Too bad I can’t show you the charms of sitting inside a heated shed with a rod in a hole.”

She wasn’t sure if he meant that to sound dirty or not, but it sure in the hell did. “Did you hear what you just said? I’m not the only one who needs to work on my flirtation skills.” She opened the door and shot him a smile over her shoulder.

The door slid open automatically but she was walking too fast. Her shoulder hit the glance and she bounced backwards. “Ow, shit.”

Axl had already been out of his truck and walking around the front to say goodbye to her, but now he hustled over to her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She rubbed her shoulder. It didn’t hurt as much as her ego. She could hear her mother scolding her as a toddler. You’re so clumsy, Leighton, Jesus.

“These doors don’t open very fast.”

“Apparently not.” She stepped back out onto the path in front of the doors so she didn’t get slammed by it again. “Goodnight, Axl. Have fun at poker night.”

“Thanks. You have a good night too.” He looked like he wanted to say something, lingering there in front of her.

But then he just kissed her forehead. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

Ew. She did not want a forehead kiss. She wanted a kiss full of passion and promise. An urgent kiss, like the ones he’d given her before. Was he already bored with her? She hoped not.

But it was in her nature to fret and she went up to her room and did just that. She went through the research list for Winnie’s wedding to see if she could use any of the same vendors for her own event on Saturday. Nothing excited her or felt right. Axl wanted a boat or water and the restaurants she looked up online by the water didn’t seem special enough.

Mostly though, she couldn’t concentrate. She kept glancing over at the bed and wishing Axl were sprawled out on it, naked.

His house had surprised her. Much to her delight, it had been very clean and tidy. Sure, lacking in décor and a woman’s touch, but it wasn’t stark either. It was organized and masculine. It made her like him even more.

Which was a lot.

She called Zach. “I slept with him,” she said by way of greeting.

“Good. Because I wasn’t going to be able to be your friend anymore if you didn’t bang a hot cop when you had a chance.”

Leighton rolled her eyes. “You’re a total liar.”

“Was it worth it? Was it good?”

“Well.” She took a deep breath. She had to tell Zach because if she didn’t and he found out later he would most likely never forgive her. “It was amazing. As a matter of fact, it was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Of course it was. It’s the thrill of him being a cop, a fake stripper, the country air. You feeling sassy and dangerous by lying to everyone.”

“Why do you make me sound so pathetic? Like I’ve never had an ounce of adventure in my life.”

“How often do you have sex with men you just met and then pretend to marry him on TV? The sex could have sucked and you would convince yourself it didn’t.”

She had to call bullshit on that. “Oh, no, you can’t convince me of that. This sex was fantastic. Multiple orgasms. Against the wall.” She felt hot just remembering it. “I want to do it again and again and again.”

Zach sounded gleeful. “Yum. So how long do you get to enjoy this paragon of the penis? When do you fake break up?”

“We just need to fake it until the episode films, which is in six days. Or five, depending on if you include Saturday or not.” Her cheeks felt warm. That was a lot of sex. “Honestly, we haven’t discussed a plan for afterward. I guess we need to.” Yikes. She hadn’t thought that far enough. Her brain had been stuck on sex and filming.

“Are you sure you can stand up there and pretend to marry someone?”

“It’s going to be totally fine,” she said. But the waver in her voice gave her away. Thinking about the wedding gave her a niggle of concern. She was sitting at the desk in her hotel room and she swiveled in the chair, swallowing hard. Admitting that out loud was out of the question. “I thought you of all people would be think this is a lark and I should just roll with it.”

“I know you, that’s why. You’re falling for him,” Zach said flatly. “You were right. I was wrong. You said you couldn’t hookup without attaching and I pushed and now you’ve lost your mind. Now you’re having some bridal fantasy that if you fake marry him, he’ll for real marry you.”

“I am not!” That had never once entered her mind. In fact, the very concept astonished her.

But now that he’d brought it up, the idea was just a little appealing. If she was going to get married someday, Axl would be a perfect fit. He was thoughtful and strong, and into the quieter pursuits in life, like her. He thought she was gorgeous.

No. Stop it, Leighton.

She could not go there.

Not a ball gown, but a mermaid style. That’s what she wanted to wear when she stood across from Axl.

Damn it. She’d already gone there. Zach was right.

Old Glory roses. That’s what she should carry. It was her love of roses and Axl’s military background merged.

Of course she had fantasized about her own wedding she’d have one day. She worked on a wedding show. She had just never pictured her groom as a hot guy with shoulders so broad he could pick her up and carry her around like it was no big deal.

It was lust crashing into like mixing with a hefty dose of longing for a fairy tale.

Leighton rubbed her forehead and told Zach, “You need to fly to Minnesota for my wedding. I may need an intervention.”