Page 64 of The Havenport Collection

Astrid

I was lying on the couch in front of the fireplace devouring a regency romance from my aunt’s collection when I heard a knock on the door. I shuffled over, hoping it wasn’t a friendly neighborhood serial killer out for an evening stroll.

I peered through the door and saw Declan and Ginger standing there. Do I have enough time to go brush my hair and put on makeup? Probably not. Crap.

I opened the door. “Hi, guys.” Ginger pushed past me and sniffed judgmentally around the living room, finally curling up on the floor in front of the electric fireplace. “What’s up?”

“Can we come in?”

“Of course. Make yourself at home.”

He walked through the door, removing his boots. I loved his manners. He didn’t do these things out of obligation, but out of desire. He was so genuine compared to most men I knew. I gestured to the tiny floral couch. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. I just wanted to talk to you for a second. I’m sorry.

It’s late. I should have called.” He looked stressed, and I wanted to hug him and smooth out those wrinkles in his brow.

He paced a bit around the tiny room before settling on the couch.

I scratched Ginger’s ear and watched him for a minute.

He was wearing his usual jeans and flannel shirt, and he looked good.

He had rolled up his sleeves, revealing thick, ropey forearms. I had never stopped to consider forearms before.

But Declan’s were beautiful. Strong and capable, yet gentle, like the rest of him.

I shook myself out of my daydream and tried to focus on the present.

I also caught his eyes traveling up the length of my body. I probably should have put on a bra under my sweatshirt and maybe something other than these flimsy sleep shorts before opening the door. I crossed my arms over my chest and gestured to the couch.

“Not a problem. It’s nice to have company,” I said, taking a spot at the other end and curling my knees up. He took up a lot of space, not just on the couch but in my tiny cottage, but I liked having him here.

“So I thought about our conversation last night at The Lighthouse.”

My face fell. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I hope he’s not having second thoughts. I want him to be my date so badly. “You don’t want to go with me?”

He grabbed my hand. It felt so good. Warm and strong and large. “No. I want to go with you. But I have a favor to ask you in return.”

Relief washed over my body. He was still holding my hand. “Anything.” And I actually meant it. If he asked me to strip naked right now and roll around in the snow I would do it. If I was being honest, I would strip naked for any purpose he could imagine.

“So if I am going to be your fake boyfriend for your law gala, could you be my fake girlfriend for my brother’s engagement party in a few weeks?”

Huh. Not what I was expecting. If I was being honest, I was kind of hoping he might want me to be his real girlfriend. But that wasn’t possible. I was clearly not his type and he was not mine. Not at all. “Of course. But why do you need a fake date for a family event?”

Declan took a breath and rested his elbows on his knees.

He faced the fire for a moment, composing his thoughts while staring at the flames.

“So my mom has been riding me lately about being single. She is relentless. Trying to set me up, committing me to blind dates without asking my permission, and harassing me about joining dating sites.” He ran his hands through his hair. He was clearly embarrassed.

I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at me. I could see the firelight flickering in his blue eyes. He seemed on edge and twitchy, the total opposite of his usual intense, controlled energy.

I gave him a minute. “I love my parents. They are really awesome. And they have both gone through a lot this year. We almost lost my dad.” He paused, staring at the fire.

I kept my hand on his shoulder. “I love them so much, and I want to make them happy. But I can’t suffer through more meddling in my personal life.

It’s bad enough I have to report up to my dad at the business I’ve been running for the past two years.

I can’t have my mom fixing me up with every random single woman she meets on the street. ”

“I get it,” I said. “You don’t want to disappoint them, but you also want to live your life.

Trust me, I understand that more than you know.

” And it was true. Although Declan’s family seemed completely different than my own, I could identify with the feeling of not being good enough.

I understood what it felt like to disappoint your parents, to fall short.

“And I just want to live my life. I have a home and a dog and a business. My father has been giving me shit about not being the ‘settling down type’ like my brothers. And I want to show him that I can be serious, even if it’s only temporary.”

He gave me an intense look and we sat, looking at one another for a minute.

My heart rate sped up and I could feel my face flush.

I didn’t get flustered. I wasn’t that type of girl.

I took pride in my composure and control in any situation.

But sitting on a couch with Declan Quinn was turning me into a swooning romance-novel heroine.

He continued, looking encouraged. “I’m happy. No one believes me, but I am. I like my life. And I am not going to waste my precious time on dating apps in some desperate attempt to get paired up.”

He looked right at me. “No offense.”

“None taken. I was desperate. I am not too proud to admit it.”

He tipped his chin. “I respect that.”

“But this is your family. We’re really going to have to sell it.”

“What, you don’t think you can pretend to like me?” His grin was mischievous.

“No, no, not at all. I mean, I guess we have to do some research or something.” What was it about this guy that knocked me off my game?

“We’re already friends. And we already hang out. So we’ll just do that more.”

“But won’t it be a surprise to your mom if you show up with a random girlfriend?”

“Yes. So we’ll go out in town and be seen. The rumor mill will start up so fast we won’t have to do much.”

“It’s not like I have that much to do at the moment.”

“I like your can-do attitude.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “So how do we do this?”

“While you are here in Havenport, we pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and when you leave, we break up.”

I nodded, too confused and turned on to speak properly.

“You might have to do the heavy lifting. Everyone is going to be shocked I’m dating you,” he added.

I punched his arm. “Bullshit.”

He rubbed his arm dramatically, and I got up and started to pace. Not to brag, but negotiations were kind of my specialty. Sitting too close to him was messing with my hormones and I couldn’t think properly.

My relationship history was peppered with one disaster after another.

My romantic instincts were shit. So maybe a fake relationship was what I needed.

At least we could set rules and conditions and actually follow them.

It was like a beautifully drafted contract—no room for error, no gray area, just clear, concise instructions about what everyone was supposed to do.

I was getting giddy just thinking about it.

Suddenly, I no longer felt powerless and confused. I was in charge. This is what I did, and I was pretty damn good at it.

I caught him eyeing my legs as I paced around the tiny living room. “Eyes up here, Quinn,” I barked.

He sat up straight and looked me square in the eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I will agree to be your fake girlfriend, but we need rules, guidelines, a plan.”

“Whatever you want.”

“Actually, let me get my laptop. I can draft something up.”

He grabbed my arm as I turned to head to the kitchen. “Slow down, killer. I don’t think we need to put this in writing just yet. Talk to me.”

He pulled me down to the tiny couch, and just like that I was a nervous, quivering wreck again. Such was the power of Declan Quinn.

I sat up and smoothed my sweatshirt. “Let’s just talk it through. We need to agree on a backstory, calendar the dates we’ve discussed, anticipate some of the potential pain points.”

“What?”

“We can’t just attempt a fake relationship willy-nilly. We have to pressure test it. Make sure it can hold up.”

“How do we do that?”

“Practice dates, hanging out in public, a slow rollout.”

“That works for me.”

I stood up and resumed my pacing. “A fake relationship will work for both of us. Because I am going back to Boston and back to my career in a couple of months. And this way, we have an easy way to break things off and remain friends.” It was actually genius.

I could help him while I was here, and he would help me by being my date for the gala.

I was a little mad I hadn’t thought of it, actually.

“Boston’s not that far away.” He looked hopeful, and his blue eyes twinkled.

Was he interested? Ha! Wouldn’t that be nice.

How was this guy still single? Clearly he must have some glaring flaws I haven’t noticed, which boded well for the success of our fake relationship.

If he was a closet narcissist or collected creepy dolls, I wouldn’t be in danger of developing real feelings for him.

“But I will have to be totally focused. And there is no way I can do a long-distance relationship, even if that distance is an hour.” He looked a little crestfallen.

But it was the truth. If my career was going to recover from this, then it would take everything I had.

I would have to work twice as hard to prove myself all over again.

The thought made me nauseous, but I ignored it.

“So that way, we can break up amicably, say it was bad timing or something. And you can pretend to be devastated for a while to buy you some time from your mom.”

He nodded, still watching me pace in front of the fire. “So from here on out, we’re a couple?”

“Yes,” I replied, still thinking through the variables.

“So we will do couple stuff.”

I looked up and he was smoldering at me again. “Don’t do that!”

He raised his eyebrows.

“That!” I said, pointing at his face. “No smoldering at me. Save that shit for your next fake girlfriend.”

He laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made me want to go sit on his lap. Shit, I had to draw some clear boundaries on this relationship, and fast.

“Also,” I said, avoiding his gaze. “No physical stuff. And definitely no sex.”

He smirked at me, as if he found my crazy entertaining. “I respect your boundaries. But I’m here in case you get curious.”

How dare he? “Curious?” I waved at him, manspreading on the tiny couch. “Unlikely.”

He continued to smolder. If I had been wearing panties underneath these shorts, they would probably be dust on the floor by now. My legal poker face came in very handy in moments like these. “I could not be less curious, actually.”

“I admire your ability to keep a straight face. You are a tough negotiator. But what if I drop and do some pushups?”

I felt my face falter but shook my head. Had he seen me staring at him last week? He must think I’m some pervy stalker who gets off on watching hot guys do pushups. It’s the truth, of course, but I don’t want him to know that.

I recovered and stood with my hands on my hips. “This works. We will do a set number of fake dates and then go to the engagement party and the legal gala. As long as we follow the rules, this should work.”

“We can continue to hang out as friends, right? Ginger has gotten attached to you.” At that moment Ginger picked up her head and gave me a bored look.

“Of course,” I said. I valued his friendship. He was one of the very few people I enjoyed hanging out with. “But there will be no hand-holding, kissing, or romantic hugging.”

“What the hell is romantic hugging?” He smirked again and it was so sexy it made me wish he was just doing his normal smolder. “Are you afraid I’m going to give you a sexy hug and you won’t be able to resist me?”

I rolled my eyes dramatically.

“And I don’t agree to those rules,” he continued. “We have to act like a normal couple. You don’t know my brothers, but if we are going to convince everyone, then you have to act like you like me. So hand-holding, hugging, kissing, and general PDA are on the table.”

“In public only.”

“If you say so. And dancing. We’ll have to dance together.”

I made a face. I hated dancing.

“Do you know how to dance?” he asked.

“Not really. Why, do you?”

“I do, actually.” That was a curveball. What other surprises did this hunky, tattooed dog dad have in store for me? “I’ll have to teach you how to dance then.”

“Fine.” I hated dancing. Despised it. But the thought of being in Declan’s arms while he led me around barking orders made me squeeze my thighs together. What was it about this guy that made me such a horn ball? “I’ll put that in.”

“In what?”

“The contract I’m drafting in my head right now.”

“You are not writing a contract for our fake relationship.”

“It’s a mental contract right now.”

“But what if you violate it? What if you fall in love with me and my man bun?”

“Not possible. But if I did, I would be in breach of contract. And you could sue me for damages.”

“That certainly sounds romantic.”

“I’m not trying to be romantic, Declan. I’m trying to be pragmatic. Rules are great. They help people color in the lines and understand expectations.” And I knew I would need rules to keep my hands off of him.

“I’m all for agreeing on the terms, but this seems like overkill.”

“Trust me. I am an expert in contracts. This will be watertight.”

He laughed. “That sounds sexual.”

I pinned him with a sharp look. “Focus. I’ll draw something up for you to review. Do you know of anyone in town who is a notary?”

“We are not having our fake relationship contract notarized, killer.”