Rent-A Husband Page 10

  I swallow hard, willing myself not to pop a hard-on right here. “That’s fine. Maybe we can get a room with two beds or something.”

  “Hey, you guys, we’re heading out. You wanna walk over with us? Amy says you guys are gonna get a room for the night.” Greg comes and stands with us, wrapping his arms around us both. He’s definitely had more than I have.

  “Sure,” I say.

  After we’ve made the rounds and said our goodbyes, Camila and I leave the Stag and Doe hand in hand, but it doesn’t feel as if we’re pretending anymore. In fact, I had an amazing time with Camila tonight and it just makes me wonder if maybe it’s possible to have her in my life and devote myself to the business at the same time. I’ve never been a great multitasker though, and the idea that one will slip out of my grasp scares me.

  There’s a vacancy at the hotel, so we get our room and say our good nights to everyone before heading up. The only room left has one bed, so we’re going to have to share. Normally the idea of sharing a bed with a beautiful woman wouldn’t fill me with dread, but having Camila next to me makes it certain I’ll be sporting blue balls all night and that thought doesn’t exactly thrill me.

  We’re silent on the elevator ride up and on the walk down the hall to our room. I use the key card to unlock the door and motion for Camila to go in before me, inhaling the waft of her coconut shampoo.

  “It’s a nice room,” she says, looking around.

  It had better be for the price. Staying in downtown Seattle isn’t cheap, but I insisted she let me pay for the room since it’s my fault we aren’t going home.

  “Do you prefer a certain side of the bed?” I ask, gesturing to the king-size mattress covered with fancy pillows.

  “I’m good with whatever. I just realized something though.” She’s biting the end of her thumbnail.

  “What’s that?”

  “I could just sleep in my bra and panties, but I’m not wearing a bra.” She bites her bottom lip.

  Do not think of her in a bra and panties. Do not think of her braless and in panties.

  I clear my throat. “Do you want me to go down and see if the gift shop is open or something? Maybe they have some pajamas there.”

  “Do you mind?”

  I shake my head. “Nope, I’ll be right back.”

  Turning on my heel, I exit the room as fast as possible, not wanting to stand there and discuss with her how she’s going to go to bed half naked with me lying beside her.

  When I reach the reception area, I find the gift shop closed. It takes an insane amount of begging and pleading for the hotel manager to agree to open it for me and cash me out himself. There are no pajamas, but they have some touristy T-shirts. I buy her one I think will be long enough to cover her ass, since she’ll only be wearing her panties. From the dress she’s wearing, I know the panties are sexy as hell. While I’m there, I grab some toothpaste and toothbrushes for us too.

  I arrive back in the room to find her sitting on the made bed with the TV on.

  “I grabbed us some toothbrushes, and they didn’t have any pj’s, but I grabbed you a T-shirt. Will that work?”

  She rushes up off the bed. “You’re a saint. I was sitting here wishing I could brush my teeth.” She comes over and takes my offerings, then disappears into the bathroom.

  I try not to think too hard about the fact that only a wall separates me from her naked self.

  Camila emerges a few minutes later wearing the T-shirt I bought for her. I did a good job of making sure her ass is covered, but it’s so big that the collar falls off to the side, exposing one shoulder. That might be even sexier than if her ass was hanging out.

  “It’s a little big.” A nervous chuckle escapes her.

  “Yeah, sorry, that was the only size they had,” I lie.

  She shrugs. “I can work with this. Bathroom is all yours if you need it.” She walks over to the side of the bed and tosses the decorative pillows into the corner of the room.

  “Yeah, about that.” I push a hand through my hair. “Would you mind if I just wore my boxer briefs to bed? If it’s a problem, I can wear the dress pants, not a big deal,” I rush out, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable.

  She looks at me over her shoulder. “We’re both adults, right?” Turning the covers down, she slides into bed. “There’s no reason we can’t both sleep in the same bed half naked. It doesn’t have to mean anything, don’t worry.”

  Why do I get the feeling she’s trying to make me comfortable instead of the other way around?

  “Yeah, of course.” I give her a small smile then disappear into the bathroom to do my thing.

  Her silky dress hangs on the back of the door. Good idea. Less likelihood of looking like she’s doing the walk of shame in the morning. I hang my dress pants on a different hook, along with my shirt, and leave my socks in the corner. Once I’ve brushed my teeth and done my business, I open the bathroom door.

  “You decent?” I call in case she’s out of bed for some reason.

  “All good.”

  I step into the main part of the room to find the lights now off. The TV is still on though, and the glow is enough for me to find my path to the far side of the bed. I slip into bed under the covers, hyperaware that if I reached a couple feet to my left, I’d touch her.

  Neither of us says anything, and though we’re both staring at the large TV screen in front of us, if I had to guess, neither of us could tell the other what’s happening in the show.

  “Do you need to be home by a certain time tomorrow?” I eventually ask, trying to break through the awkward energy.

  She shakes her head. “I’m going to go on a training run on a nearby trail, but I can do that whenever I get home.”

  I nod. “Should we set an alarm, or do you just want to leave whenever we get up?”

  She glances at the clock on her bedside table. “It’s late. Why don’t we just see when we wake up?”

  I cringe inside. I’m an early riser, even when I get to bed late. The idea of having to lie here beside her while she sleeps so I don’t wake her when I get up sounds like a painful hard-on I won’t be able to do anything about.

  “Sounds good,” I say.

  She turns off the TV and the room plunges into darkness. All I can hear is our breath, and I fixate on the fact that she's only inches away. We lie there in silence for a while and I try to calm my racing heart, but it proves impossible.

  “Can I ask you something?” she whispers.

  “Of course.”

  I hear the rustling of sheets and I think she's turned toward me, so I do the same. I can just make out her figure in the dark.

  “Why did you agree to help me?”

  I heave out a sigh. I know why, of course, but I've never told anyone else. Sharing my most shameful secret isn’t exactly something I’m eager to do. But at the same time, I can't help but feel like sharing it with her will help ease some of the load I've been carrying. Camila is easy to talk to.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” she says when I’ve been quiet for too long.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… it’s difficult for me to talk about.”

  “I understand.”

  She doesn’t push, seemingly content to stay in silence. I lie quietly for a while, thinking back over that night. The familiar shame coats me once again, and before I know it, it’s all pouring out to her.

  “Back when I was twenty-one, I was in the city for the night, partying with some college friends, and had to take the train back home by myself. While I was waiting for the train, I saw a group of three guys harassing this homeless man who was hanging out on the platform. At first they were just being dicks, saying rude things and kind of shoving him around. But then it escalated and I thought that I should intervene.

  “But I was by myself, with no one to back me up, and those guys looked like they meant business. I told myself that they’d get bored of bothering the homeless man and move on, so I didn't need to get involv
ed. I knew even then that I was just telling myself that to make me feel better for doing nothing.

  “When the train came, I got on even though my gut was screaming at me to step in and help the guy. A couple days later, I saw on the news that the homeless man had been killed and those guys had been arrested for his murder.”

  Camila sucks in a breath.

  “I couldn’t believe it. I had a chance to save that man’s life and I didn’t. What kind of person does that make me? After that happened, I made a promise to myself that no matter what, if I was able to help someone who needed it, I would.”

  She's silent, and I’m sure she's judging me. Rightfully so. But then her hand snakes down my arm and she intertwines her fingers with mine.

  “That's awful, Lucas. But if you had stepped in, you could've been hurt or killed too.”

  “Or I could've stopped those assholes from killing him. I’ll never know. That's the point.”

  “You can't beat yourself up about this. It was a long time ago. You were young, and all by yourself.”

  I understand what she’s saying is true, and these days, it’s not forefront in my mind like it used to be, but still. Knowing I could’ve helped save a life and I didn’t because of fear? That’s not something that ever leaves you.

  “I've just had a hard time forgiving myself,” I say, and she squeezes my hand. “That's why when I saw how upset you were about having to come on your own tonight, I agreed to your crazy plan.”

  “Well, thanks again for coming. And for sharing your story with me tonight. I get the sense that it's not something you talk about a lot.”

  “Truth is, I've never told anyone what I just told you,” I say in a low voice, knowing I’m revealing something with my statement. “Not my brothers, grandparents, or anyone.”

  She sucks in a breath. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Thank you for trusting me. It stays between us.”

  “Thanks.” I can’t stop myself somehow, and I let go of her hand and lean over to place a chaste kiss on her forehead, once again breathing in the coconut scent of her shampoo.

  She doesn’t roll away or try to get me to stop. “I'm sorry for dragging you into my crazy plan. You never agreed to pretend to be my husband. Me and my big mouth.”

  “Don't sweat it. That guy and his fiancée are real dicks. I don't blame you for wanting to show them up.”

  Her giggle bounces off the walls and fills the room. “She was kind of obnoxious, wasn’t she?”

  I chuckle. “Completely.”

  I want so badly to pull her on top of me to feel her body against mine. Her breath washes over me every time she exhales, and I go hard in my boxer briefs. It's a good thing it's dark in here and I'm covered by a comforter, otherwise she'd be uncomfortable by how much I want her right now.

  That kiss earlier tonight did me in. I know it was for show and she was probably pretending to be more into it than she was, but damn, there was no pretending on my part.

  We’re quiet for a moment. I feel as though we’re each waiting to see if the other will cross the line. The tension building is so thick, you’d need a damn chainsaw to cut through it.

  “I guess we should try to get some sleep,” I say eventually.

  “Yeah, I guess.” Is that disappointment in her tone?

  It doesn’t matter. I’m not going to be the next asshole to hurt her. I just need to keep remembering that so we can both walk away from this in one piece.

  Twenty-One

  Camila

  I sleep like a rock, much to my surprise. I’d have thought I’d have trouble sleeping while sharing a bed with Lucas, but not at all. I guess maybe that’s not surprising. I’ve felt comfortable around him pretty much since we met.

  When I roll over in bed, I find him in the chair in the corner of the room, reading the newspaper that must’ve been left outside our door.

  “Hey,” I say in a rough voice. “Have you been up long?” I’m guessing so, since he’s dressed.

  “Not too long.” He smiles at me and goes back to reading the paper.

  Shit. Are things going to be weird between us now?

  It felt like we shared a moment in bed together last night. And I know we shared a moment when he kissed me, though that was for show, so I guess I can’t be too sure of the meaning of that one.

  “Do you mind if I have a quick shower before we head out?” I sit up in bed.

  “Did you want me to order room service for breakfast?”

  My stomach rumbles at the thought. “That sounds like heaven. Can you get me waffles with maple syrup please?”

  He chuckles.

  “What?”

  Finally, he looks up at me from the paper. “Shouldn’t surprise me that you picked a kid’s breakfast.” He shakes his head playfully.

  “Waffles are for everyone, Lucas, not just kids.”

  “If you say so.” He grins.

  “I do.”

  I swing my legs around the side of the bed and step out, careful to pull the shirt down to cover my ass, then head to the shower to wash off last night. I don’t want to wash away the memory of his kiss, but it’s probably best that I do, otherwise I’ll just be waiting for the next one, which is never going to come.

  Things seemed to return to normal between us after I got out of the shower. We ate our breakfast in the hotel room and walked back to the parking garage to get Lucas’s truck. We’re on the highway when his phone rings through the truck’s Bluetooth.

  The screen says Travis, who I’m pretty sure is his brother.

  “Yeah?” Lucas answers.

  “Hey, man, what’re you doing right now?” the deep voice on the other end asks.

  “Driving, why? What’s up?”

  “Any chance you can go by Grams and Gramps’s? She just called and said she needs someone to move their upright freezer to the other side of the garage.”

  “And did something happen to your arms and legs?” Lucas checks over his shoulder and changes lanes to get past someone who’s driving slow in front of us.

  “I just put the first coat on a piece and I have to finish them all before I set it aside.”

  Lucas’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. “Where’s Josh?”

  “No idea. Tried him and he didn’t pick up. What’s the big deal? If you’re driving, just drive over there. You know Gramps. He’ll try to do it himself if we’re not fast enough.”

  Lucas’s gaze flicks over to me. “It’s just that I’m driving back into town and I’m not alone.” He holds his breath for a moment, obviously waiting for the reaction on the other end of the line.

  “You’re not alone?” His brother’s inquisitive tone fills the car. “Who are you with?” Now it’s more of a teasing tone. I wonder what the third brother is like.

  “What’s it matter to you?” Lucas snipes.

  Travis laughs. “It matters. Who is she? You’re holding out.”

  Lucas mouths “sorry” at me, and I shrug. I’m not offended in the least. In fact, I find this amusing as hell.

  “Her name is Camila,” he says begrudgingly.

  “Hi, Camila,” he says.

  “Hello,” I say, tired of sitting here like I can’t hear every word they’re saying

  “Camila, why does that sound familiar? Camila, Camila… wait. Is it the same Camila you’re doing the bathroom reno for?” The teasing part of his tone drops.

  “That’s me.”

  Travis clears his throat. “Huh.”

  “We’ll stop by your grandparents’ place when we get into town. Should be in about twenty, twenty-five minutes or so,” I inform him.

  Lucas looks at me, obviously dumbfounded. But his grandparents need help and he’s in a position to help them. End of story. Especially now that I know how important it is to him to help people who need it.

  “Well, I like her and I don’t even know her,” Travis says.

  “Bye.” Lucas hangs up on his brother, then looks back at me.
“This will only take a second.”

  I wave him off. I don’t have much else to do today, and I wouldn’t mind spending more time with Lucas, that’s for sure.

  Lucas pulls up in front of a neat and tidy looking bungalow. It’s fairly modest—maybe a little bigger than mine, but not by much. The front lawn and the gardens are obviously well cared for. Pride of ownership practically beams from the place.

  There’s a detached garage at the very end of the driveway and the garage door is up. Inside, an elderly man is fiddling with something on a work bench.

  “Don’t mention anything about the cruise, okay? It’s a surprise.”

  “My lips are sealed.” I pretend to zip my lips shut and throw away the key.

  Lucas chuckles and looks out the windshield at his grandpa, who’s smiling at us.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they know we’re only friends.” Then he pushes his door open and exits the truck.

  I frown. Right, because he wouldn’t want them thinking we were an item. It stings even if it shouldn’t.

  “Well, you two sure look dapper for this time of day,” his grandpa says before Lucas gives him a hug.

  It’s just now dawning on me that we’re both dressed in last night’s clothes and I cringe inside. They’ll think I’m some type of woman who gives it up immediately. They’re from a generation where you don’t sleep together until marriage. Talk about a poor first impression.

  “We had an event in the city last night and I had a little too much to drink, so we ended up staying over unexpectedly. We’re just getting back into town.”

  His grandpa beams at Lucas with pride. “Well, good for you for doing the responsible thing.”

  “Gramps, this is my friend Camila. Camila, this is my gramps.” Lucas motions with his hand between us.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say and take his proffered hand.

  “Please call me Arthur. Always nice to meet one of Lucas’s friends. Can’t remember the last time that happened.” He looks at Lucas and raises one brow the same way that Lucas does from time to time. Now I see the family resemblance. I wonder if his brothers do it too.