Seven Day Fiance: A Love and Games Novel (Entangled Bliss) Page 4

  She rolled her eyes as she caught herself ogling his backside en route to their table. That was her—sweet, naïve, innocent Angelle Prejean, the only twenty-six-year-old in the history of forever sporting a chastity belt, trailing behind temptation incarnate. Hoping he’d agree to become her white knight in black leather.

  Angie snorted as she pulled out a chair, and Cane inclined his head. “What’s so funny?”

  “Absolutely nothing,” she said with an internal sigh. She shoved her hands through her thick auburn hair and laced them together on the table in front of her. Maybe if she stared at her chipped nail polish she could do this without sounding like a complete idiot. “So, last night—”

  “You bid an obscene amount of money just to go out with me,” Cane interrupted, his deep voice laced with humor. Her eyes shot to his and he winked. “You know, darlin’, all you had to do was say the word. You could’ve had me for free anytime.”

  Sweet baby Jesus. Was she actually supposed to hold a thought in her head when he said stuff like that?

  “Um, right.” She cleared her throat, and his dimples deepened. “But I—I saved you from that lunatic, right?”

  The naughty smile fell from Cane’s mouth and he leaned back in his chair. “Becca.” He bit out the name like a curse. “Yeah, angel, you did. And I appreciate it. That woman’s a friggin’ nightmare. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go into hock for helping me.” His brown eyes grew dark with determination. “I’m covering that donation to Project Nicholas.”

  Before he was even through speaking, she was shaking her head. The gesture was sweet, surprisingly so, but unnecessary. Angelle didn’t need Cane to cover the bid. What she needed was for him to agree to her crazy scheme. But if the man felt as though he owed her, then that could only help her chances, right?

  Willing forth confidence she didn’t possess, she took a breath.

  This was as good an opening as she was gonna get.

  Angie lifted her palms to halt the argument she could already sense brewing. “Cane, you don’t need to do that. I know I haven’t talked much about where I’m from or my family situation, but trust me, I can handle the financial stuff. That’s not a problem.” She wet her lips and shifted in her seat. “I was glad to help you, honestly, and I didn’t do it for any ulterior motives…”

  She trailed off, simply unable to finish the rest of that statement. Lord, why does this have to be so embarrassing?

  When she continued sitting there like the open-mouthed fish jumping in the bayou outside, Cane prompted, “But?”

  But I need your help desperately, even though I’m terrified of what it’ll mean.

  That was the real doozy because while Angie needed Cane to get her out of this predicament, she knew if he did they’d be opening a whole other can of worms. It was like inviting Pandora to open a box of whoop-ass on her heart, her willpower, and her nonexistent love life. But she’d gone and made herself this mess. Now she had to live with the consequences.

  Resigning herself to her ridiculous fate, Angelle closed her eyes and said, “But, I need you to be my fiancé.”

  …

  Whatever proposition Cane had expected, it sure as shit hadn’t been that. A few minutes ago, hell, a few seconds ago, he was confident he’d agree to anything that gorgeous mouth asked of him, as long as it didn’t involve wearing a Santa hat. Apparently, he was wrong.

  And apparently, Angelle was a little loco.

  “You need me to be what?”

  That familiar blush rose up Angelle’s slender throat as her eyes popped back open. “Not for real. I need you to be my pretend fiancé,” she clarified, like that somehow made so much more sense. She gnawed a plump lip and cringed. “I-I kinda got myself into a situation.”

  She seemed to sink into herself, and just like that, Cane’s need to flee shifted into a need to protect. Worst-case scenarios began flashing through his mind. There was no doubt Angelle was tough. Volunteering at a fire station wasn’t for the weak of heart, and neither was ninjitsu. In both endeavors, she stood toe-to-toe with the guys and fought as hard as any of them. That spunk was one of the sexiest things about her. But at the same time, Angelle was sweet, too sweet, and way too trusting. She’d be an easy mark for anyone wanting to take advantage.

  Legs tensing, every muscle clamping down ready to take her and bolt, he asked, “Are you in some kind of trouble, sweetheart?”

  Angelle scrubbed her hands over her face and gave a muffled snort. “Yeah, but not the kind you’re thinking of.” She waited a beat, then sighed, lowering her fists to stare gravely ahead. “This week is Thanksgiving.”

  Her tone implied it was a revelation, and Cane nodded, well aware of what month it was. “That usually comes at the end of November.”

  A spark of fire lit those eyes at his sarcasm. “Yeah, well, that’s a huge holiday with my family. My dad’s the mayor of our town, and every year we have a big festival and a parade. Almost everyone still lives in Bon Terre, most even on the same street, but a few of us have moved to larger cities. Thanksgiving is like our family reunion.”

  Cane didn’t follow how this was a problem. Or what in the hell it had to do with her needing a pretend fiancé. Damn, the word alone acted like a vise on his lungs. Sucking in a breath he said, “That sounds…nice.”

  She rubbed her temples. “It normally is. But normally I’m not bringing home mythical fiancés.” The smooth skin around her eyes tensed as she shoved a lock of hair behind her ear. “Mama called right before the auction yesterday. I haven’t been home since I moved here, and she wanted to make sure I’m coming up for the week.” She looked at him. “And that I’m bringing my fiancé so they can finally meet him.”

  Clearly, Cane was missing something. Growing up with two sisters and a very verbose mom, he liked to think he’d become proficient in deciphering female speak—but Angie had him stumped. “Back up, sweetheart. I feel like I’m talking to Emma here. Why in the hell does your mom think you’re engaged?” Angelle lowered her lashes. “And why can’t you just tell her you’re not?”

  A frown tugged her lips and she began picking at the polish on her thumbnail. “I guess I better start from the beginning.” Cane settled back in his chair. That would be nice, he thought, watching as she let out a long sigh. Pale pink polish flaked onto the tabletop. “Two days before I came to Magnolia Springs, my boyfriend proposed.”

  An unfamiliar surge of jealousy knocked him squarely in the chest. Cane had no claim on Angelle. He didn’t want one. Love, relationships, marriage, the whole shebang was something he gave up long ago. But the thought of another man making Angelle his made Cane’s blood boil. His hands tightened into fists in his lap.

  “When Brady asked,” she continued, oblivious, “it was like a wakeup call. If I said yes, I’d just be going from my parents’ house to his. From one protected life to another, my future all planned out for me. I’m the baby of the family, and I’ve always done whatever people wanted. I even dated the man my parents picked, for crying out loud.” She shook her head, the resolve on her face shocking—and hot as hell. “I couldn’t do it anymore, Cane. I needed to live on my terms, you know? If that involved a man, great. If not, that was fine, too. Because it’s what I would have chosen. My decision.”

  Angelle lifted her eyes and as usual, her every emotion swirled in their depths. Vulnerability, resolve, guilt, and fear. It was the fear that hit him the hardest. He covered her hand with his, and her lips parted in a gasp. Ignoring the electric jolt that shot up his arm, he said, “That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “No,” she said, swallowing hard. “It wasn’t. Coming here”—her small shoulders shook in a laugh—“that was so not a me thing to do. Mama flat out freaked, sure that I’d lost my ever-loving mind, and Daddy, he was fixin’ to drive down here and get me. They kept hounding me on the phone to come back, harping on the ‘good man’ I left behind. I needed them to see that I’m fine here, you know? That I’m great. I have a job I’m prou
d of, an apartment I got without their help, and friends I love to death. The only thing I don’t have here is a man.” Angelle dropped her gaze again and shrugged. “So I made one up.”

  Cane didn’t know if he should laugh or run. But neither would help him understand what the hell she’d been thinking. “And so you figured why bother dating when you could just pull a fake fiancé out of your ass?”

  She winced, and immediately he felt like a jerk. Jokes and sarcasm were his family’s go-to response, but as fierce as she could be, Angelle was delicate, too. He needed to remember that. “It wasn’t like anyone real was beating down my door,” she mumbled. “Cane, you know I’m shy. I don’t exactly know a ton of men. But I never expected it to go this far. It started small, just one date, one little white lie to get them off my back. For weeks, it worked like a charm. Until it didn’t. Then one date turned into many and before I knew it, Mama called fresh from a visit with my perfect ex and out popped my mythical man proposing.”

  Her shoulders slumped, like her outburst zapped every ounce of energy she had. It probably had, since it was the most the woman had ever said directly to him, other than a squeaked hello. She looked tired and lost, and an intense need to help her rose within him.

  But one thing still didn’t add up.

  “Why me?” She squirmed at the question, and his curiosity piqued. “Trust me, I get meddlesome moms. When mine was alive, she expected grandbabies the second I graduated college, so I had to develop my own diversionary tactics. Not as farfetched as yours,” he added with a teasing smile that got her to snort. “But if this has been going on for months, you must’ve dropped a name at some point. And it’s no secret I’m not your favorite person.”

  The flush rose on her pale cheeks, and Cane remembered the crush she’d had when she first moved here. His jaw clenched in irritation. “Who did you say was your fiancé, angel?”

  Eyes wide at his growly snarl, she yanked her hand away. He sat back, folding his arms tight across his chest. Of course she’d said Jason’s name. Before he proposed to Colby, Angelle had followed him around like a lovesick puppy. That’s the reason Cane was suddenly the perfect candidate for this job. She was coming to him not because of the intense attraction between them or because she knew she could trust him to help. She came because Jason was already a fiancé. Cane shook his head. If Angelle thought he’d pretend to be another man on top of this stupid engagement shit, she had another thing coming. Cane was through with looking like a jackass.

  Not that he was really considering this ridiculous proposal anyway.

  “You,” she whispered.

  The word was so soft, so low, that Cane almost didn’t hear it through his inner tirade. When he did, his gaze shot to hers. “What did you say?”

  Angelle cleared her throat. “At first, I didn’t give them a name. They didn’t ask—I think they were just too stunned—and I sure as heck wasn’t giving them one. I was still shocked myself. But I knew they’d call back, so I went to find the only guy I really knew in Magnolia Springs. A man I knew my parents would adore. Someone safe, dependable, and solid. It was that night at Grits and Stuff, do you remember?”

  Jealous fire burned his veins but he nodded. “The night we met.”

  “Right.” She wet her lips and looked back down. “I figured it was time I got out there again anyway, so I thought I’d kill two birds at once. Who knew, maybe it wouldn’t have to be a lie for long. I came home thinking I’d made real progress. But when Mama called back later that night…I didn’t give her Jason’s name.”

  More surprising than what he now knew was coming was the sense of triumph it gave him. “You didn’t?” Cane prompted, needing to hear Angelle say the words. It shouldn’t matter to him, since he knew this couldn’t go anywhere past a hot night or two in bed, if he was lucky enough for even that. But for some reason, he needed to know that first meeting affected her as much as it had him.

  Angelle shook her head. Her green eyes filled with vulnerability as she said, “I said your name, Cane. My parents think you’re my fiancé.”

  The swinging door to the kitchen fell open. Two wide-eyed faces peered around as Angelle let out a muted squeal. Cane wasn’t surprised, though. His sisters eavesdropping had been a given; he was just shocked they hadn’t busted their asses at the first fiancé bomb.

  Fiancé.

  Damn, it was like a plot from one of Sherry’s soap operas. This kind of shit didn’t happen outside Hollywood or those red-covered books he’d cleaned out of his mom’s closet. Or, so he’d thought.

  Cane couldn’t deny a part of him was ready to jump at this. He wanted her, needed to get her out of his head, and she’d all but admitted his non-safe reputation was the reason she was so skittish. What better way to get Angelle to relax and topple her monumental defenses than spending a week alone, pretending she was his?

  But there was another part of him—the side that protected women like her from men like him—that knew this could be dangerous. He liked Angelle. He respected her. And the last thing he wanted was to see her hurt. A one-night stand or an extended no-strings-attached fling was one thing. But a week of faking real emotions? That was a whole other ball game.

  The promise he’d made long ago burned brighter in his mind. Twelve years ago, he witnessed the devastation his mother went through and even though his parents eventually reconciled, Cane vowed he’d never let himself inflict that kind of misery.

  He wasn’t his father.

  Movement behind Angelle’s lowered head snagged his attention and Cane watched as his sisters exchanged a look. They turned to him with matching smirks, and he exhaled.

  He knew that look. He was about to be ganged up on.

  Sherry stepped forward, grinning widely. Ever the matchmaker, she was enjoying this and he knew it. “You already have a ring,” she mentioned, oh so helpfully. “Mom left you hers, and you know what a romantic she was. She’d love it if you used her engagement ring to help Angie.”

  His more sensible sister hitched her hip on the neighboring table. Colby sent her friend an encouraging smile. “And we’ve got the restaurant covered. As much as my big brother likes to think otherwise, we’ll survive a week without him quadruple-checking every aspect of this place.” She grinned and blew him an air-kiss. “Love ya, bro. Besides, we’re closed Thanksgiving, and Devon and Kara can handle the bar this weekend.”

  So much for practicality. Everything lined up. They’d taken any feasible excuse he could’ve had and chucked it right out the damn window. All three women turned to him with expectant faces, and Cane knew he was done for. Especially when Angelle’s eyes softened with hope.

  “I’ll give you the ring back, of course…” she said, her voice breaking off into a whisper. “You know, when we come home.” Her teeth sank back into that plump lower lip as she shifted in her seat. “I just need to get past this holiday, let them see I’ve moved on. After that, I’ll start dropping hints about problems, and then be single again before Christmas.”

  Cane scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. She’d done him a solid with Becca. Now it was his turn to help her. It wouldn’t be completely altruistic; he fully intended to return with his curiosity satisfied and his obsession with the auburn-haired vixen sated. He’d just have to find a way to keep Angelle at a safe distance while doing it.

  Even with the sense of dread roiling in his gut, an unmistakable surge of excitement rushed through his chest. He’d wanted to make her his for a short time. He’d just never thought it would happen quite like this. Taking her hand again, Cane linked their fingers together. They may as well get comfortable with the PDAs if they had a chance in hell of pulling this off. “So, when do we leave?”

  Chapter Four

  “Uncle Cane, you’re getting married?”

  Choking on his swig of Dr. Pepper, Cane bit back a curse not meant for a young girl’s ears. This day just kept getting more bizarre. It had begun quietly, alone in the big house his parents had left him, with the
same old monotony stretched before him, and somehow ended with him engaged. Not for real, of course, but evidently, that detail was insignificant. Tossing another pair of faded jeans on the stack of books in his open bag, Cane turned his head and feigned innocence. “What, sweetheart?”

  “I overheard Dad and Colby talking downstairs,” Emma explained, waltzing through the door and heading straight for his guitar. Colby split her time equally between their childhood home and Jason’s, and her soon-to-be stepdaughter always followed in her wake. It was sweet how much she idolized Colby, how excited she was that they would all soon officially be a family. But as much as he loved spending time with his godchild, she could be exhausting. And rather nosy. “Personally, I think it’s awesome. Angelle rocks. She’s so much better than those hoochies you normally date.”

  There was so much wrong with that sentence Cane didn’t know where to begin. Emma knowing about the other women, the word hoochies being a part of her vocabulary, her learning about this crazy scheme…any way he sliced it, the onslaught of horror was overwhelming. But unfortunately, she wasn’t all that wrong about the other women.

  “Bug, I think you heard wrong.” Cane scratched the side of his stubbled jaw as Emma turned from strumming his guitar, lips tugging in a confused frown. Strangely enough—considering he’d agreed to this farce—he hated lying. He despised liars. But the whole truth was too ridiculous even for a twelve-year-old. So he said, “Angelle just needs help with a…situation. And I’m tagging along to do it. As friends. That’s all.”

  His godchild’s smile didn’t dim in the least. In fact, it grew.