Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 29645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 119(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
“The what?” Levi asks flatly.
“Oh, it’s adorable,” she says. “Couples only, of course.”
Couples.
I glance at him.
He looks like he’d rather run into a burning building.
And then something reckless sparks in my brain.
“Actually,” I say smoothly, stepping forward. “Lieutenant Kane won’t be available for bidding.”
Mrs. Dottie blinks. “Oh?”
“He’s taken.”
Levi’s head turns toward me so fast I almost laugh.
“I am?” he asks quietly.
I meet his eyes.
Bold.
Steady.
“Yes,” I say. “We’re getting back together.”
Silence drops over the bay.
Ash nearly drops a wrench.
Mrs. Dottie’s eyes widen with delighted scandal. “Together?”
“Rekindling the old flame,” I add before my courage fails.
Levi’s expression goes utterly still.
The church ladies’ eyebrows raise before Dottie turns to the newest recruit on the crew, “Well, Eli–what about you?”
I turn to Levi fully now, because if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it without flinching.
“Spring Fundraising Season lasts three months,” I say under my breath. “You need a shield. I need to avoid being shoved onto a debutante stage. We fake date.”
Levi’s gaze burns into me. “Fake.”
“Public affection only,” I lower my voice another notch to make sure the women can’t hear, then begin ticking off rules on my fingers. “90 days. No real feelings. No revisiting ancient history. We survive charity season, the church ladies back off, and then we go back to normal.”
“Normal,” he repeats, low.
My pulse jumps. “Yep.”
He studies me in silence, eyes dark and assessing. “You think you can handle that?”
“I handled leaving,” I say before I can stop myself.
The words hang between us like smoke. His jaw tightens. “Different kind of fire.”
Mrs. Dottie returns with her clipboard and gaggle of lady friends. “Well! If you two are courting, we’ll need to update the newsletter.”
Levi doesn’t look away from me. “You’re serious?”
“Very.”
“You don’t want to be auctioned.”
“I do not.”
“And you think pretending to date me is safer?”
I shrug. “You’ve always been good at protecting me.”
The shift in his expression is subtle but seismic. He steps closer. Too close. “Careful,” he murmurs. “You’re flirting with something you already walked away from.”
My throat tightens, but I lift my chin. “It’s fake.”
His mouth curves slowly. “Sure it is.”
Mrs. Dottie claps again. “Oh, this is delightful! A second chance romance! The town will swoon.”
Levi finally tears his eyes from mine.
“We’re not a romance,” he says flatly.
“Speak for yourself. This one has always been so private, gets growly like a grizzly bear at just the hint of town gossip,” I pat him on the shoulder with condescending affection. Dottie chuckles and crosses a line through Levi’s name under the singles section on her clipboard.
And when Levi looks back at me, heat crackles between us like it never left.
“Rules,” he says quietly.
“I just gave them.”
“Say them again.”
I swallow, stepping out of Dottie’s earshot. “Public affection only.” His gaze drops to my lips. “No real feelings,” I continue. His hand flexes at his side. “No revisiting the past.” A muscle jumps in his jaw. “And no private lines crossed.”
He steps even closer. “Define private.”
I force a smirk. “Behind closed doors.”
He leans in until I can feel the heat radiating from his chest. His voice lowers so only I can hear.
“You always liked breaking rules.”
“And you always liked catching me.”
His hand extends suddenly. “Deal.”
I stare at it. His palm is broad, scarred, familiar. I place my hand in his. Electricity shoots through me.
It’s ridiculous how much I remember—the weight of his grip, the way his thumb presses against my knuckles like he’s memorizing them.
We shake. But he doesn’t let go.
“Public affection,” he says quietly.
“Right.”
He slides his arm around my waist.
In front of everyone.
My breath stutters.
Mrs. Dottie squeals.
“See?” Levi says smoothly. “Already working.”
His hand spans my lower back, firm, possessive without being crude. I should pull away. I don’t.
“You’re enjoying this,” I whisper.
“You started it.”
“Afraid you won’t get bid on?”
His mouth dips close to my ear. “Afraid you’ll forget this thing between us is fake?”
My pulse thunders. “I won’t forget.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me. “Sadie.”
He hasn’t said my name like that since I left. Not intern. Not Hotshot. Sadie.
“Yeah?” I manage.
“You don’t get to run this game,” he says softly. “If we’re doing this, I lead.”
My stomach flips.
“You think I can’t handle you?” I challenge.
His grip tightens slightly at my waist. Not painful. Not gentle either.
“Hotshot,” he murmurs. “I know you can’t.”
Heat floods my face. Behind us, Axel wolf-whistles. Mrs. Dottie beams like she just arranged a royal wedding.
Levi finally releases me, but his fingers trail deliberately down my side before letting go.
The message is clear. This may have started as a joke. But he doesn’t do anything halfway.
As the church ladies bustle away discussing centerpiece colors and fundraising spreadsheets, I turn to him.
“See?” I say lightly. “Problem solved.”
His eyes are unreadable. “For ninety days.”
“For ninety days.”
“And when it’s over?”
I hesitate for a fraction of a second. “We go back to normal.”