Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“I need this to work,” he breathes, his arm around my waist. “Us.” I hear a tinge of desperation. He wants this badly. I’m a tool to cutting his mom off from tormenting some other woman who could become Mrs. Jake Waterford. And maybe this is my way of doing some good without fully shedding the things I love. Pretending. Deceiving. The art of a ruse. Only the outcome isn’t a boatload of cash but protecting a girl from being Claudia Waterford bait.
Not going to lie, it feels kind of nice to be Jake’s shield.
Still, there’s one problem.
“I want this to work, too, but you can’t keep fighting with Rocky.” I lift my weight off Jake and face him more, seeing his scowl. “I’m serious.”
He tries to lighten up, but his face pinches painfully. “I don’t like him.”
“Yeah, no duh. The entire town has seen that.”
He downs the last of the cider in an aggravated gulp. “The more you defend him, the more I just think—”
“What?” I prickle. “That I’m sticking up for my ex because I’m a battered lover who’ll keep apologizing for his abusive behavior?”
His eyes sink into mine. “What should I believe?”
“That he’s never laid a hand on me. He constantly thinks about me and my feelings over his own, and he’s willing to be a town pariah if it means I’m in a better social standing. He’s only following me around because he doesn’t trust you, and considering we’re in some bizarre fake dating scheme, I don’t blame him.”
Jake cools off a bit, and I continue, “If you keep provoking him, he might accidentally blow our cover.” Not totally true, but Jake did insinuate that he was worried about him. “So it’d be better to squash the animosity now and establish . . . something . . . less hostile between you two.”
Jake slowly begins to nod.
I try not to act like his acceptance is a defibrillator to my chest. I pick my jaw off the ground. That was too easy.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I don’t want him to ruin this.” He motions between me and him.
“Okay . . . good.” I’m ready for this pseudo-war to be over. “You . . . do you realize that means actually having a civil conversation?”
“As long as he meets me halfway, I think I can work it out,” he says, his gaze drifting over my features. His fingers skate along the top of my head, and he plucks another fiery orange leaf from my hair.
Those damn leaves. All day they’ve been attacking me, but it’s done a bang-up job of amplifying our romance. I smile at him, my stomach tossing in a weird way.
He whispers, “You hate that, don’t you?”
“It’s the featherlight touches,” I say, still smiling. “I’m more of a hair-grab kinda girl.”
“I think if I grabbed your hair in public someone would tackle me.”
I tilt my head. “Who said anything about doing it in public?”
Why the fuck did I just say that?
It’s a flirt. A come-on. Is it just so natural for me to lean into this like I’m on some sort of “seduce” setting that I can’t control? He’s searching my gaze for more, like he’s trying to piece together how real that was.
I don’t know.
I don’t even know.
Not real! My head is screaming.
I nervously try to tuck flyaway hairs behind my ears. “He’s not a bad guy.” Back to Rocky. Yes, I’m rerouting the Jake & Phoebe Express back to him—even if it means skidding off the train tracks—but luckily, Jake’s face doesn’t sour at the mention of my ex. “The friends Rocky does have, he’ll do anything for. He’s that kind of guy.”
Jake stares off again, lost in deep thought for a quiet second. He tips the cider to his mouth, forgetting he drank the rest, but that breaks his stupor. Now I’m wondering what the hell is churning in the brain of Jake Waterford.
If only mind reading were actually a thing.
“Jake!” Ms. Davenport suddenly swoops into our sphere, breaking our intimate and quiet chat near the fountain. Her manufactured congenial smile and emptied mimosa are putting me on my best girlfriend behavior.
I hold on to Jake’s elbow, dutiful and lovesick.
Jake slips on Persol sunglasses and wears a warm smile. “Ms. Davenport. How’s the festival treating you?”
“Oh, perfect.” Her curiosity zips from him to me, back to him. “Aren’t you two looking serious.”
Jake smiles down at me. “We are. Aren’t we, babe?”
“Mm-hmm.” I grin up at him, forcing myself not to search for Rocky and hoping beyond hope that everyone buys our romantic façade.
He naturally slides his fingers along my temple and back behind my ear, the touch soothing and genuine. His eyes carry the same calming sentiments. I’d be a bigger liar if I said the motion wasn’t comforting. Maybe he’s trying to ease me into this situation where I need to be a fortress against his family.