16. Wade

Chloe's heels on the tile of the quiet Louis Vuitton store grated against my ears. She'd insisted we go to Denver for a shopping spree. Apparently, Dominic preferred the finer things in life, so luxury items were the way to his and his parent's hearts.

I had what seemed to be an ever-growing list of gift ideas for them. With every item that Chloe looked at, studied, and touched, my options became too wide to narrow down. Or maybe that was her goal; drive me insane and get me to spend hundreds of thousands on her fiancé and his family.

"Can you please just pick something?" I mumbled, thoroughly uninterested in the wallet she held in her hands. The sales assistant shot me a dirty look.

"I just can't remember if he prefers the monogram or the damier," Chloe groaned. She flipped both of them over in her hands again. "Maybe we should just get both?"

Great. Over a grand on wallets alone. "Fine. Get both. I can either give him two or keep one for myself."

"We'll take both," Chloe said, flashing a grin at the assistant. "And maybe the new print of the petite malle."

I gritted my teeth, forcing my mouth to stay shut. She was approaching ten grand at Louis Vuitton alone. We still had at least five more stops.

"For Dom's mom," Chloe whispered to me. "She loves those ones."

"Would you like to take those with you today or have them shipped?"

"We'll take them with us." I leaned against the counter as the woman behind it packaged up our items. "How much are you planning on having me spend today?" I asked Chloe, irritation seeping into my voice. I wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed shopping, and definitely not when I had to do it with her.

Her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head. "Does it matter? You're the one trying to impress them. I'm just here to help."

I hated it when she was right.

In truth, the money I was likely going to spend on them was nothing in comparison to the investment I needed to ask for. It was a drop in the pond. And although I had enough to not think critically about spending hundreds of thousands on her new family, it rubbed me the wrong way, felt like a bribe. But I wasn't above bribing.

"Your total is eight-thousand, two-hundred forty-two dollars and twenty-nine cents."

————

Chloe carefully set the five bags she carried in the trunk of my Lamborghini, pushing the ones I'd already set down to the side so they'd all fit. Nearly seventy grand dropped on people I had never met. I tried not to curse myself.

"What's got your panties in a twist today?" She shut the trunk and leveled a glare at me, her arms crossed over her chest. I appreciated her waiting until we were out of the shops to ask me, but it still didn't feel like something I should be complaining to my sister about. There's no good way to say: I'm sexually frustrated and can't do anything about it.

"I'm cleaning up my act," I bit out. "And it's stressful."

"Eww."

"Exactly." I opened her door, holding out one hand to usher her in. "Now get in before I lose my shit, squirt."

"Wait, wait." She held up one hand. "Does that mean you're dating someone? Like a serious thing?"

I wanted to smash my head into the edge of the open door. I hadn't considered that I might need to lie to her, and that created a stress all on its own. Chloe was the kind of sister who pried her way into everything, needed to know every last detail, and got excited at even the slightest hint of a romance blossoming. And now she was in contact with Ray. I couldn't even imagine the looks Ray would give me the moment Chloe started asking her questions.

"Just get in the car," I insisted, pressing my hand into the top of her back and pushing her gently toward the open door. She gave me an annoyed humph and plopped down into the waiting heated seat.

She shut the door herself as I limped my way around the car. My leg had begun flaring up halfway through shopping, and even though I knew for a fact that the majority of my irritation stemmed directly from my frustrations, part of it was because of the pain shooting up my leg. I wasn't looking forward to the drive home.

Her mouth was running the second I started my car.

"Who is it? Is she nice? Please don't tell me it's Leanne. I hate her. She was so rude to me at the resort last year. Did you start dating after I told you to?" She gasped and covered her mouth. "Oh my God, were you dating before that? A secret relationship?—"

"Chloe," I said with clear irritation. I pulled out of the parking garage as gently as I could, not wanting to damage anything in the back. "It's Ray. Raylene. My assistant."

Another exaggerated gasp. "Ray? Is that why you hired her?"

"No, I didn't know her before I hired her."

"Oh wow," she breathed. She looked off into the distance, her mind turning what I could only assume was the timeline over and over. "Did you, like, sleep with her on her first day or something?"

"God, no."

"Then how is it?—"

"It's fake, okay?" I blurted, the words slipping out before I could hold them back. How the fuck am I meant to keep this a secret from the world when I can't even keep it from my sister? "It's not real. It's just for the wedding and that's it."

Her jaw dropped open as her gaze collided with the side of my face. I stared at the road ahead, not looking at her. "Wade. No. What the fuck?"

"I didn't have any other option." The words felt like a defeat as I said them, an ache in my chest blossoming. There wasn't going to be a long-term relationship for me. It just wasn't in the cards. "It was Ray or no investment. And I need the investment."

Chloe rubbed at her face, an annoying groan seeping from her lips. "Am I just supposed to lie for you?"

"I mean, yeah, that would be great if you could."

"Oh my God," she sighed. I watched from the corner of my eye as her hands found her stomach. "You know lying makes me feel sick."

"It's just for a few days," I insisted. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles blanching.

"Yes but it's a few days of my wedding."

Shit. I was an awful brother. I hadn't even considered that before I'd opened my mouth. "Please." I chanced a quick glance at her before looking at the road again. Her pale face said it all. "You owe me. Please."

She pulled at the strands of her hair, her silence deafening. I needed her to lie for me; everything rested on that and as much as I hated it, it was the situation I'd put myself into. Something told me it would come back to bite me in the ass one day, whether that was after Dom's parents eventually found out that I was some kind of playboy all along or years down the line when karma finally struck.

"Why couldn't it have been one of your bunnies?" she groaned. She sunk deeper into the passenger seat. "At least I know them well enough to lie about something like this."

"Do you honestly think any of them would have made for a good "fake" long-term partner?" I asked. I already knew her answer. "Ray was the best choice I had so I went with it. I'd honestly rather not get the investment than do it with someone else."

"What does that mean?" she asked, her brows furrowing as she looked straight at me again. "At least with one of them, you'd be able to pull off appearances because of the familiarity. You'd fit together well. As much as I like your assistant, she's… stoic. I don't exactly see her acting out any sort of affection."

Why did that feel like a blow?

"There's still time. You can pick someone else."

"I want it to be Ray," I snapped. She's right. I could choose someone else.But I didn't want that. As frustrated as I was both sexually and mentally, I didn't wanta bunny. They seemed too immature, too boring. With Ray, it was more of a chase, as if I was a lion hunting down a gazelle. There was something exciting about that even if we didn't end up selling it perfectly. The bunnies offered themselves to me on a silver platter, no chase there. It was boring, mundane.

I didn't want to think about what that meant.

"I'll lie for you," she sighed. "But you better make it fucking easy for me."

————

The outside of Ray's home was overgrown and tired. Too-long dead grass that had somehow survived this far into winter poked through the snow, brown vines that weaved up the sides of the house. Ray's car sat under an exterior garage, just barely covered enough to keep the snow out of the broken window. I made a mental note to send over some landscapers when the weather got better so she wouldn't need to worry about that.

Watching someone dressed so immaculately in the clothes she'd bought with my card exit a house so drab was uncanny. She clutched the edges of her wool coat as she walked carefully down the steps. Each footstep was a risk—the overnight freeze had covered everything in ice, and in heels that high, falling would almost certainly take her out for the evening.

I held the door open for her as she eventually made it down the long driveway. Black satin swayed around her hips from where it flared, hitting her just above the knee. Her legs were covered in thin black stockings. "You look nice," I grinned. A part of me was happy to see her, that part that had always been a bit of a hopeless romantic, a part I often pretended to play whenever I was with a bunny. I kept it close to my chest, though it tried to claw its way out from time to time. But I pushed it back down. I couldn't afford a repeat of it being shattered into a million pieces.

"Thanks," she mumbled. "I didn't really know what to wear. I've never done this kind of thing before."

I shut her door behind her as she dropped into the passenger seat. She hadn't fought me when I told her I'd be driving tonight, and in truth, I took that as a win.

I got back in the driver"s seat and turned the heat up. "You've never been dancing?" I asked, shifting the car into drive. "That's not really an expensive hobby."

I could feel her glare boring into my skin. "That's not the reason I haven't done it, asshole. I've just never been one to go out dancing."

I held a hand up to her and offered her a sardonic grin. "Sorry, sorry," I said, and I meant it. "Lucky for you, my mother insisted on putting me in ballroom dancing classes as a child, so I can show you the ropes."

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head from side to side. "Ballroom dancing classes? Was she expecting you to grow up and marry a princess or some shit?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the idea, though Mom probably did imagine something along those lines. I don't think for one second she expected me to grow up to be anything like my father. "Probably," I said. "I wouldn't put it past her."

"Well, she'll be disappointed to meet me, then," Ray sighed. "Unless she'd consider my shack of a family home a castle."

"It's not a shack," I laughed. "It's a cute house. It just needs some work."

I looked toward her, watching her expression briefly as she pursed her lips. "Dad used to do the yard work. I have no idea how to start the lawnmower or use a weedwhacker without risking cutting off a limb."

I made a motion of holding something out away from me and laughed, feeling utterly ridiculous, but she started laughing too, cracking that icy facade just a little bit more. I'd listen to her laugh like that all night if she'd let me. I hoped she would.

I parked just outside of the studio. Ray chose to leave her coat in the car since it was such a short walk, and as I realized the full extent of her dress and how incredible she looked in it, I annoyingly found myself wishing that maybe, just maybe, she'd be my bunny. But I knew she'd never want that in a million years.

Black satin clung to her from the waist up, little straps holding everything in place. The fabric swooped down a bit where it met the tops of her breasts, inviting me to look closer and get a sneak peek at what was underneath. The lower half hugged her hips before flowing out around her. I could watch her move in it for hours, days, weeks.

But maybe not the way she moved on the dance floor.

For someone so graceful on ice, she lacked that grace on the dance floor. She kept her distance, always a beat behind and completely off-rhythm, the clacks of her heels never hitting in time. I had to fight the urge to tease her about it.

"Come here," I chuckled, grabbing her hand as she spun and pulling her toward me. She fell into my chest, one hand holding onto mine for dear life and the other colliding with my pec. The heat of her body against mine was intense, warm and homey, with an easiness to it that felt like we'd done it a million times. "Let me show you."

She looked up at me, her eyes wide, mouth parted. "What?"

The classical song playing began to reach its crescendo. I snaked my other hand around her waist, just ghosting the top of her ass, and lifted her up onto my shoes. The little squeak she let out had my hands tightening around her. "Let me show you," I repeated.

"Oh, okay," she breathed, her fingers splaying out and pushing against mine before interlacing them. She held on for dear life, and although it wasn't technically the standard way to hold hands during a dance, I left it alone.

I took the lead. Every breath I made was calculated as I looked down at her, feeling her chest pressed up against mine. I carried both of us across the floor, and even though her toes were crushing my feet, I didn't complain or tease her. The music hit its peak, and I leaned down to her ear. "Spin for me," I whispered.

"I don't know how?—"

I loosened my grip on her hand and held her by the fingertips as I pushed her out from me, spinning her effortlessly. The movement was a little clunky, and as her head whipped around halfway through it, I could see the scowl she held on her face. I couldn't help the laugh that escaped as I pulled her back into my chest, leaving her feet flat on the floor.

"See? It wasn't that hard," I grinned, leading her as we began to dance to the next song.

"It wasn't bad."

The scowl melted away as she looked up at me, erasing the harsh lines and leaving nothing but the softness of her skin, her bright eyes, and the barely noticeable freckles she'd attempted to cover up with makeup. I wanted the opportunity to get close enough to count them.

"Feeling a little more comfortable?"

She nodded, instinctively nestling in closer as she stepped toward me.

"It doesn't have to be awkward," I said quietly. "Despite your… inexperience, we move pretty naturally together. Just do what your body thinks is right."

A blush spread across her cheeks as she turned her head, hiding her gaze from me. "My body is telling me to run," she laughed.

Liar. I knew it in my flesh, in my bones. That wasn't what her body was telling her at all. I knew it from the way she didn't move away from me, the way she didn't shy away from my chest against hers, didn't flinch as I dropped her hand and cupped her cheek instead. She didn't even protest when I lifted her chin, forcing those piercingly honey-glazed eyes to look at me. They could swallow me whole.

"Wade," she breathed.

"Shh." Adrenaline hit me then, coursing through my veins like wildfire. She looked fantastical, like something out of my most vivid dreams, and every point where our bodies touched seemed to flare with nerve endings. Ice Bunny was melting, and so was I. "Are you lying to me, Ray?"

She gulped and her lips parted, eyes dashing back and forth between mine. "Maybe."

"How awfully uncertain," I whispered, leaning into her until our mouths were just an inch apart, our mixed breath filling the space. I hadn't even realized that we'd stopped moving until that moment, everyone around us keeping up to the rhythm of the classical song playing, spinning while we were standing still. I could practically taste her already, and fuck, I wanted it. I'd kill for it. "Dare me."

Her breath wavered as she blinked, and I wondered how hard her demons were battling in her mind. I didn't dare move a muscle. "I dare you." The words were so quiet, so shaken that I wasn't sure if I heard them correctly.

But I wasn't going to waste the chance.

I closed the distance within a millisecond, pressing my lips to hers. I could taste her lipstick, could feel the softness of her mouth, the ease of the action. She didn't flinch, didn't back away. She blossomed for me like a flower, and as our tongues met, I wondered if she'd put me under a spell, pulling me in with an invisible string that tied me to her. Maybe I was just like Jay Gatsby and she was Daisy Buchanan, and I'd be chasing this until the day I died.

Her body softened, all the hard edges of her thawing out. Her hands fisted the lapels of my suit jacket, holding me close, and I shifted my hand to sit at the nape of her neck, cradling her, carrying her.

I drove the kiss deeper and felt the warmth in her body spread as it did in mine. This was the finest glass of wine, the most expensive meal. But it wasn't mine to eat. It wasn't mine to devour. Somehow, I felt okay just tasting it, even for a moment.

The smallest sigh choked from her throat and danced between our lips, and within a second, she stiffened. As if time had stopped, she froze in place, lips hard as stone, body unmovable.

And before I knew it she was a foot away from me.

Wide eyes and smeared lipstick. Fingertips pressed against her mouth, her chest rising and falling too rapidly, too panicked. The music boomed again, reaching a peak, and it was too much for her all at once. "I?—"

I stepped toward her, but she backed up, bumping against another dancer who gave her a look of distaste. She didn't even notice. "I'll take you home," I said, wrapping my fingers around her raised wrist as she looked around frantically.

Panicked eyes met mine. Like a cool blast of wind, all of those walls I'd just torn down were rebuilt. Ice Bunny was back and she was horrified.

All I could do was repeat myself. "I'll take you home."