Page 7 of Love is Fake (Love is Everything #1)

“I can get on board with a woman who likes to take charge.” There’s an arrogant gleam in Lennox’s eyes as he says the words.

“Great, we-ll. I better be going.” I only stutter a tiny bit as I turn away from him, only to realize I don’t know where my new ride is.

I look over my shoulder to find Lennox with that damn smirk on his face. He locks eyes with me, and I feel a tingle in my stomach.

It’s probably hunger , I reason, though I know better.

“This way,” he motions with his head and I fall into step beside him. We walk towards an outbuilding I didn’t notice on the way in, probably because I was so worried about being late and wondering who my mystery client was. If I’d known who it was I’d be meeting I would have been even more anxious.

“This is the quietest you’ve been since we met,” Lennox comments and I feel, rather than see, his eyes on me.

I shrug, stealing his move. “If you’re just judging me on tonight then you’re forgiven for thinking I’m more argumentative than I really am.”

He lets out what sounds a bit like a hum of surprise.

“Same goes here, I guess,” he says eventually, and I manage to stop my mouth falling open in shock.

I’m pretty sure what I just heard was the closest thing to an apology I’m ever likely to get from Lennox Gray.

Instead of working up a comeback, I just nod, curtly.

I’ll let him decide whether or not he wants to interpret it as acceptance.

We come to a stop and Lennox nods towards the garage doors. “If you flick the red button on the remote -”

I quickly look down at the keys in my hands, realizing I was staring at him again. This is why it’s easier to not look at him at all because once you start it’s like being pulled into a very attractive black hole.

Embarrassed and flustered, I flick through the keys until a large, tanned hand enters my field of vision, taking the remote and clicking the – now screamingly obvious – red button.

Breaking my own rule, I lift my eyes to meet Lennox’s, his fingers still brushing my palm and I swear I hear my pulse pick up just at the sight of the man.

Thank God the sound of the garage door lifting snaps me out of my psycho-levels of ogling. Lennox snatches his hand back and takes a step away from me, trying to create some distance and I promise myself I won’t blush at being silently called-out for being a complete creeper.

That’s the moment I decide that no matter what my reaction to Lennox is, I can’t let him see how he affects me.

First of all, it’s unprofessional and secondly, it’s just flat-out embarrassing.

He’s just an attractive guy, and inconvenient as that may be, it isn’t something I haven’t dealt with before. No big deal. None at all.

With that, I turn my attention to the open garage and it’s the best distraction I could have asked for.

“Wow, nice collection.” I don’t have to hide the appreciation in my voice as my eyes roam the mix of new and vintage cars and trucks. My dad would love this place. As soon as the thought hits, I feel the familiar pang of missing him.

Lennox doesn’t seem the least bit interested in my reaction. In fact, he looks a little uncomfortable and I get the feeling again that I’ve done something wrong without meaning to.

“This is your ride.” He puts his hands in his pockets, motioning with his head towards the monster Chevy off to one side.

It’s so shiny I can see my reflection in it and I’m almost nervous to touch it.

It’s definitely worth more than I make in a year.

Hell, make that 5 years. The fact that I’m expected to drive this thing, given how my last ride ended up…

“It’s just a car, Isabella,” Lennox says softly, and I realize I’ve spoken my thoughts out loud.

I wince inwardly, but I don’t comment. This time, I make sure my lips are firmly sealed so none of my deepest thoughts come spilling out of my mouth without my say-so.

Clearly, I can’t be trusted not to make a complete fool of myself in front of this man.

I go to get in the waiting truck, except it’s much easier said than done when you happen to be vertically challenged.

“No nerf bars,” I mutter to myself. Without a step I’m going to have to jump up into the seat like a little kid.

Lennox is right by my side, looking at me curiously as I look warily at the distance between the floor and the driver’s seat. “You know about cars?”

I shrug. “My dad’s kind of a gear-head.” I don’t elaborate, not wanting to get into it and risk Lennox making the connection between my dad’s auto shop and me.

“Hold on.”

I can’t stop myself from letting out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a squeak of surprise as strong hands grab my waist and I’m forcibly lifted into the truck as if I don’t weigh anything at all.

Lennox waits a beat before letting go of me and stepping away from the truck, closing the door.

“Thanks,” I mutter under my breath, busying myself looking at the interior of the truck so I don’t have to meet his eyes.

Get a grip, Izzy, all he did was give you a leg-up. But it doesn’t stop me from shivering at the tingle I felt as my top rode up just enough for his hand to graze the bare skin at my waist.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I mumble unnecessarily and then realize that I’ve already frickin’ told him that.

I risk a glance at Lennox to find his dark eyes lit up with amusement.

He’s enjoying my discomfort way too much.

So, I go back to inspecting the interior of the car, not trusting myself to look directly at him.

Besides, this car is way nicer than any others I’ve been in and I’m both excited to get to drive it and nervous as all hell.

“Isabella?” I lift my head, ignoring how good my name sounds when he says it. Lennox’s arms are leaning on the open window, drawing attention to his not unimpressive biceps.

“Try not to crash my truck.”

This time I don’t resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Funny.”

“I look forward to seeing what you have in store for me tomorrow.”

Dammit, how does he make even that straightforward phrase sound sensual?

He taps the hood of the car, pushing away as I start the engine.

I send him a saccharine smile. “You won’t be disappointed, Mr. Gray.”

I wave innocently as I drive away, hazarding a look in my rear-view mirror to see he’s still standing in the driveway, watching. I figure he’s probably half-expecting me to crash before I’ve even left the property. I’m not going to satisfy his assumption by doing just that.

My cell rings as I head out of Lennox’s compound and my shoulders relax a touch as I answer the call, hearing the voice of my favorite person in the whole world.

“Izzy Bizzy.” I smile at the endearment he’s been using since I was in diapers.

“Hi daddy,” I sigh, settling back into the driver’s seat.

“How’s my girl?” His voice might sound gruff to someone who doesn’t know him, years of cigarettes have given him a permanent smoker’s throatiness. It had taken me emotionally blackmailing him for him to finally give up a couple of years ago and I didn’t even feel a little bit bad about it.

“I’m good.” The lie slips out easily. I never burden my dad with my problems – he’s had a lifetime of them to deal with all on his own.

“You sure? You sound a little… off. ”

Aside from making the worst possible impression on the highest of high profile clients, long-buried mortifying memories of my teenager years coming back to haunt me and wondering how the hell I’m going to do my job when the athlete I’m working with thinks I’m a basket-case, aside from all that, everything’s totally fine.

Of course, I don’t tell him all that. “I’m just tired, it’s been a busy few days,” I deflect.

He makes a disbelieving sound, telling me I’m not fooling anyone. But he doesn’t push. It’s one of the things I love about him; he lets you come to things in your own time. “How’s work?”

I weigh up the pros and cons of telling my father who my new client is; the NDA I’ve just signed says I can’t, but I know my dad wouldn’t ever tell anyone.

When it comes to secrets, the man is a vault.

Although there are some secrets, I wish he wouldn’t keep all to himself, like what happened the day my mother left us and why he never tried to find her.

Even without bringing the confidentiality contract into my decision, my dad had never been a big fan of Lennox Gray.

Not since I came back from school saying I was never going back because of the library incident with Carly.

It didn’t even help when I told him Lennox found me crying on the bleachers of the deserted football pitch and apologized on behalf of his awful girlfriend.

If I hadn’t already been a little bit in love with Lennox Gray, that moment would have cemented it.

I was barely able to speak, so overwhelmed I was he was even talking to me.

He must have thought I was a complete loser.

Anyway, in my father’s book, a private apology was nowhere near good enough.

Lennox should have stopped his horrid girlfriend from making my life miserable at the time, not just assuaged his guilty conscience after the fact.

I was quicker to forgive the object of my affection - instantaneous, if I’m being honest.

So, I keep my new client’s identity to myself, keeping things general and light. The last thing I want is my dad worrying about me. Lord knows he did enough of that when I was in high school.

“Work’s work,” I shrug, not wanting to get into it when I’m feeling so jaded about a job I usually love. “Michael had his baby,” I tell him, smiling at the thought of how excited my mentor must be. He and his wife had been trying for a kid for so long, his little one was nothing short of a miracle.

“Hey, that’s great news. Girl or boy?” My dad lets me steer the conversation to safer territory.