Page 90 of Decidedly Off Limits

I snickered. “He’s not expecting me to fake a pregnancy.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I shrugged. “Because I trust him.”

“Like you trusted him to tell everyone the truth after you called off the engagement?”

Point taken. “He knows this is a one-time thing.”

“Well, for his sake I hope you’re right. I still don’t get why you agreed to be his date to begin with.”

Because I thought it would help take my mind off the man I was in love with but couldn’t have. “Because he’s still my friend. And because I’m the idiot who has a hard time saying no.” Or else I wouldn’t have let Erin hook me up with the Viking and the speed fucker to begin with.

She laughed and picked up the straightening iron. “So what is this event tonight anyway?”

“He had no idea. All he could tell me was that it’s some big black-tie charity event.”

Erin made a sound that was somewhere between a huff and a grunt. “Sure, he finally takes you to a black-tie event when you’re no longer actually engaged to him.”

She had a point, but I didn’t want to go there. I was looking forward to tonight. It was a huge step up from my typical evening entertainment—pining for Trent.

Once my hair was straightened, Erin got to work on my makeup. By the time she was finished, I didn’t recognize myself. My blue eyes smoldered, like a model straight out of Vogue, but Erin had kept my lips light with a shell-pink lipstick. A little overdone for my yoga pants and tank top—perfect for my gown.

I scooted upstairs to get dressed.

The floor length, nude-colored dress skimmed my body to a few inches below my hips, then gently flared to the floor. Overtop, black netting let the nude underlay peek through, interrupted only by the large black floral designs. My breasts pushed against the fabric of the low neckline, held up by spaghetti straps. My girls were cleverly hidden or highlighted—depending on your view of things—under the elaborate design of black lace and sequins.

I finished the look off with three simple black bracelets that shimmered in the light. Overall, I was a combination of sexy and glamorous. I just hoped it wasn’t too over-the-top for my fake date with Owen.

The bedroom door opened and Erin entered my room—looking like she had just seen Santa in a speedo. In her hand was a five-by-seven piece of thin card.

“You okay?” I asked.

She sunk onto my bed. “When were you going to tell me?”

I shook my head, baffled at what she was talking about. And that’s when my gaze dropped to the card in her hand. Only it wasn’t a piece of card. It was a photo.

Of me.

And Trent.

In a very intimate position.

Oh crap!

“Where did you get that?” I whispered, even though I knew exactly where she had found it.

The corner of her mouth curled up, not quite a smirk, but definitely headed in that direction. “In the magazine where you left it.”

“It’s not what you think.” Okay, it totally was. “Trent was helping me out with a photography assignment.”

She glanced down at the picture. “Riiiight. So who was taking the actual photo?”

The words “The Easter Bunny?” hung heavy in the air.

“Luke. A classmate. He took photos of Trent and me together for our photography assignment. Then he left and I took photos of Trent.”

“Really? ’Cause it doesn’t look like you were modeling for an assignment.”