He could barely keep his attention on his work, and he had a big business deal going through this week. He really needed to concentrate.

  He turned back to the laptop on his office desk and managed to concentrate for thirty minutes when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

  The door opened and Shelby Lynn, his assistant, carried in two files and slid them onto his desk with a slight grimace. “Sorry to add to the workload, but I’ve done all I can on these. They need your approval.”

  “Thanks.” He slid a file from his pile toward her. “Here’s one for you.”

  She picked it up and stood there.

  “What’s up?”

  She said, “You seem, well, a little distracted today. Is there anything I can get for you? Caffeine? Lunch?”

  He smiled at his efficient assistant. She was in her mid-twenties and dated a lot of guys, but she was always professional and cool in the office. She wasn’t his type and, thank goodness, he didn’t appear to be hers, either. He didn’t need the drama. “No, thanks. I’ll focus now and let’s see if we can get these dealt with by the time we leave tonight.”

  She saluted and carried the file back out, closing the door behind her.

  He really had to keep working.

  And he had. That day. And the next. And the one after that.

  And each day he was more aware that Grandma was going to follow up with him to see if he’d called Taylor.

  Finally, on Thursday, he realized he had to do something. If he didn’t call the woman, he might never get any work done ever again.

  He pulled out the card with her phone number on it and stared at it, remembering those warm brown eyes, that caramel-glinted hair he’d longed to set free from its messy bun.

  And realized he wasn’t just going to invite her to dinner. He was going to tell her the crazy thought he’d had going through his mind for days.

  He was going to make her an offer he hoped she couldn’t refuse.

  Taylor didn’t recognize the number on her phone, so she slid it back into her pocket and went back to her novel, relaxing on her couch in the above-garage apartment she’d come to love.

  After a moment, when a voicemail popped up, she went to listen and see who’d called. As soon as the low voice sounded, she knew who it was. Nathan Fletcher. He’d called her! And she hadn’t answered.

  Hi, Taylor. This is Nathan. Hey, I wanted to see if you’d like to go to dinner with me. Give me a call back if you’re interested.

  If she was interested? Heck, yes, she was interested.

  But she didn’t want to date, she reminded herself.

  She’d like to date this guy, though.

  She hadn’t met him online, at least. And she’d met his grandmother and seen how caring he was with her.

  With a laugh, she pushed the callback button. After a few rings, he picked up. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” she said, butterflies flying in her tummy.

  “I guess you got my voicemail.”

  “I did.”

  “How about it? Would you like to go to dinner? Your choice of restaurant.”

  “Even if I said Le Caille?” she asked, naming one of the most expensive restaurants in the area.

  He chuckled. “A woman of good taste.”

  “Just kidding. I’d rather not see that much money change hands over dinner.”

  “McDonald’s, then...?” he teased.

  “Maybe we could find someplace in the middle.”

  “What’s your favorite restaurant?”

  “Red Lobster.”

  “You got it. Red Lobster. Is tonight too early?”

  She didn’t want to look too available—but what the heck. She chuckled. “Not at all.”

  “May I pick you up at six-thirty? Does that give you enough time?”

  Her heart was doing a little pitter pat dance among the butterflies. “Yes.” She gave him Nana Elizabeth’s address. “And watch out for Bruno. He’s the neighbor’s dog and sometimes he gets loose.”

  “Thanks for the warning.”

  “He’s harmless, except he’s big so just him being friendly can hurt.”

  “I’ll move fast. Or honk.” He laughed. “I’m just kidding. My grandmother raised me better than that.”

  “How dressy?”

  “How about dressy casual?”

  “Sounds great.”

  “And bring two cupcakes with you. If you’ve got any lying around.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious.”

  She laughed and said, “Okay. Any particular flavor requests?”

  “Red velvet . Definitely.”

  “You got it.”

  After he hung up, she slipped her phone into her pocket, a huge smile on her face.

  Stop that, she told herself. It’s just dinner.

  And she called Ariel to tell her the news.

  6

  Make Sure He Proposes Soon

  After her call to Ariel, Taylor changed her outfit five times before she settled on a wine-red-colored shift dress that flowed over her curves loosely. Underneath, she wore black leggings and black boots since there was snow on the ground outside.

  She brushed out her hair and tied it back with a ribbon.

  Finally, she was ready. Just in time, too, because he’d be there in ten minutes. She surveyed her bedroom with clothes flung over every surface. Good thing he wouldn’t be visiting her bedroom. She closed the door so he wouldn’t see in, even accidentally.

  She pulled out a lipstick and added a touch of color, then brushed a little blush onto her cheeks, and added mascara to her eyelashes.

  This was as good as it got.

  When she heard Bruno barking, she looked out the window. Nathan was striding up the walk toward the garage—and he looked really nice. He wore a solid navy jacket over a white long-sleeved button-down shirt, no tie and the top button undone, and navy slacks.

  She might have to fan herself tonight just to keep from bursting into flames while looking at him.

  She started moving at his knock and opened the door.

  His widened eyes and surprise made her smile. “You look fantastic.”

  Now that was the kind of response a woman liked.

  “Not bad yourself.” She grabbed her coat.

  He took it and helped her into it.

  So, a gentleman, too.

  She picked up a small folding box. “Your cupcakes, as requested.”

  As he drove, Nathan kept glancing over at his date. Taylor looked stunning. She didn’t have on loads of makeup or anything but looked much dressier than she had in the donut shop while working.

  There was an awkward silence in the car until he said, “Tell me more about what you want your cupcake shop to have in it.”

  That broke the silence, and he had to smile about her enthusiasm. After she’d explained the layout she wanted, he asked, “Have you looked at buildings around town?”

  She sighed. “I have. In fact, I found the perfect building a few days ago. But it’s going to take me forever to save up anything like that.”

  That might make his impending proposition more appealing to her. They definitely each had something the other one wanted. Needed.

  He took the 13th East exit off the I-80 freeway and turned left. He could see the restaurant from here. “so this is your favorite place to eat?”

  “I love crab.”

  “One of these days we ought to visit the coast and get some extra fresh seafood.”

  She looked at him, surprised. “That sounds great, but I don’t usually take road trips with guys.”

  “I’m thinking a plane ride.” He debated on his next words, but added, “Private jet.”

  “Oh,” she said, obviously surprised and skeptical. “You’re telling me that you have a private jet?”

  “Sure. Doesn’t everybody?” He grinned at her.

  “Oh, sure.” She sounded like maybe she didn’t believe him. Most people didn’t.

  He chuckled. “Okay, we’ll stick to the car.”

  “It’s plenty nice enough,” she said. “What is it?”

  “A Tesla Roadster.”

  “Oh.”

  He parked and came around the car to open her door. It had started snowing again, lightly, and he held out his arm for her to take.

  She did and her touch warmed him.

  His anxiety level rose. He really, really wanted her to accept his proposition.

  He’d know soon.

  The crab was delicious.

  Putting down the last crab leg, Taylor sighed, used the wet wipe to clean the butter from her fingers, and tugged the disposable seafood bib off. “That was just as good as I remembered.”

  He was smiling at her, which made the butterflies take flight again. What was it about this guy that she wanted to touch him?

  The waitress returned and cleared off the tables. “Will you want dessert?”

  She looked at the box on the table.

  “No, thank you,” Nathan said. “We’re celebrating with some of this young woman’s cupcakes. Taylor’s Treats. Coming next year.”

  “Oh, congratulations,” the woman said.

  “Thank you,” Taylor said, embarrassed. At the rate she was going, it wouldn’t be coming for several years.

  “I’ll let you do the honors,” he said, motioning to the box.

  She opened it and handed him one of the two red velvet cupcakes. He took his with obvious enjoyment but waited until she took a bite of her own before starting his.

  When they were finished, he sighed deeply. “That’s the perfect ending to a perfect meal.”

  He’d had one of their feast combo meals and had eaten a lot of steak and seafood.

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  After a moment, he leaned forward, putting his arms on the table. “Taylor, I have something I want to talk to you about and I’m not sure how to start.”

  He was silent so long that she finally said, “Just say it.”

  “Okay. You need money to start your cupcake shop.”

  “Yes,” she said warily, not sure where he was going with this.

  “How much do you need? Have you figured it out?”

  “Twenty-four thousand.”

  “That’s reasonable. Maybe even low.” He nodded. “That’s presuming that you’ll be renting the building space, right?”

  She nodded.

  He went on. “And I need to make my grandmother’s Christmas the happiest it can be.”

  “Okay...?”

  “What she wants is for me to be dating. That will make her happy. So ... would you pretend to be my girlfriend? In exchange, I will help make your cupcake shop happen.”

  “You have that kind of money?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m not sure I understand...” What exactly did a man like him want in exchange? Possibly a wealthy man.

  “It’s just that I think we can help each other out right now. My grandmother just got some bad news at the doctor’s and I’m determined to make this her best Christmas ever.”

  She hesitated. “I still don’t know what exactly you’re asking me to do.”

  He sighed and pain filled his eyes. “Please keep this confidential, but my grandmother just learned she has Stage 4 pancreatic cancer.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, touching his arm in comfort.

  “She has only two or three months left. She said the only thing she wanted to be happy was for me to get married. I’m not proposing that, but just some dates. Let’s let her think we have a relationship that could lead to marriage. After she...” He stopped and sighed. “After, you can keep the money for your shop.”

  “And what would you expect at that time in exchange for that money?”

  “I only expect you to act as my girlfriend.”

  “A platonic girlfriend, right? Nothing physical.”

  “Only enough to prove it to my grandmother, who is quite astute. A hand on your back, holding hands, a casual kiss.”

  A casual kiss? Could there be such a thing with this man? But what if he really could make her shop happen? “Are you serious about this?”

  “This is probably Grandma’s last Christmas and I want to make her last few months happy. She hasn’t stopped talking about you since we met. Knowing I’m dating you will make her happy.”

  She was quiet, sad about his grandmother and cautiously hopeful about her shop.

  “Would you come to dinner in a few days and I’ll announce to Grandma that we’re dating?”

  “Why not just ask me out for another date? It would save you twenty-four thousand dollars. Minus the cost of the date, of course.”

  “Because I don’t want to lead you on and have you feel like I lied to you. I want any relationship we do have to be honest.”

  “Except that we’re being dishonest by pretending.”

  He shrugged and smiled. “Yes.”

  She chuckled. “Are you going to make me sign a contract?”

  “I’m a businessman. I do contracts. So, yes.”

  “All right. I’ll go to your grandmother’s dinner and pretend to be your girlfriend until your grandmother...” She faded off, unable to say the word.

  “Passes,” he supplied.

  “And, in exchange, you will fund my new business?”

  “Yes.”

  “And in addition to funding my shop—which is incredibly generous, by the way—I need you to fend off my mother, who has threatened to start introducing me to men.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and looked amused.

  “It’s not funny. She’s getting divorced from her fourth husband and so her efforts to see me married will be redoubled. She’s moving here from New York full time just to be close enough to help me meet possible contenders for my hand. So, I need you to come to dinner with her to prove I have a boyfriend.”

  “Agreed.”

  He reached across the table to shake her hand, to seal the deal, she supposed.

  She took it and warmth spiraled through her.

  He held it way too long, finally releasing it.

  “All right. My mother’s plan starts right away.” She rose and came to his side of the table.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a selfie with you and sending it to my mother. Let our pretend relationship begin.”

  “We haven’t signed the contract yet, though I’ll have my attorney prepare it tomorrow.”

  “I trust you to at least come to dinner. Your word is your bond and all that.” She stuck out her hand. “Let’s shake on it.”

  He smiled and took her hand. Wow. The warmth slid up her arms, ending in a blush on her check.

  Reluctantly pulling her hand free, she took several selfies, pulled up her photos, chose the best one, and texted it to her mother. “I’ve met someone! We’re on a date tonight! Be sure to cancel the guy you probably already lined up for me for tomorrow night’s dinner. I’ll bring Nathan with me.”

  He stood beside her and for a moment she thought he was going to give her one of those casual kisses right then. Instead, he held out her coat and helped her into it.

  Her phone pinged. Her mother had texted back: Hallelujah! Make sure he proposes soon.

  Shaking her head, she showed him the text. He raised an eyebrow. “Nothing would make my mother happier than to see me married, too. Our break-up will kill her.”

  “I can hardly wait to meet her.”

  He walked her toward the car, his very warm hand on her back. She shivered in the wintry air, and he turned on the heater full blast. “We need to get you acclimatized.”

  “To being a girlfriend?” she teased.

  “That, too.”

  When he walked her to the door of her above-garage apartment, she smiled and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Jeans are okay. That’s what I’ll be wearing.”

  She hesitated for the slightest of pauses, and then went for it, leaning forward to give him a quick casual kiss.

  She heard him suck in a breath as she said a quick, “Good night,” and shut the door.

  As she watched him walk back to his car, turning several times to look back at her, she smiled.

  She liked casual kisses.

  Who knew?

  7

  Just How High is Your Credit Score?

  That quick kiss had lingered in Nathan’s memory all that next day. He was still thinking about it—and hoping for more—when he pulled onto Taylor’s street. Christmas Street was lit up bright, and a light snowfall made it look even more magical, but also hazardous driving conditions.

  Cars going the other direction had their lights off, so he turned his off, as well.

  On the front lawn of one home was the proverbial Santa and eight reindeer, another had a nativity scene. Each home was elaborately decorated and gave a sense of unity and community that he admired.

  At one end of the street was a home where the lights were synchronized to music. He rolled his window down a bit and heard “Jingle Bell Rock” playing as the lights spun and jumped. Since there were cars pulling in behind him, presumably to also see the lights, he crept forward until he was able to pull over at the curb in front of the Swanson home.

  He turned off the car and looked at what looked like an elf’s workshop on the lawn, lighted up enough to make sure they’d be seen from the street.

  Whoever had started this tradition was a genius.

  He turned his gaze to the apartment above the garage. Little white lights were hung along the stair railing and around the window.

  Beginning to smile, Nathan started toward the apartment, and the beautiful woman inside.

  The snow seemed to have lightened, which was good.

  It took him just moments to cross to the large brick garage and climb the stairs.

  Suddenly nervous—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous over a woman—he knocked.

  He’d only waited ten seconds or so when she opened the door and smiled. “Come on in. I just need to grab my coat and purse.”

  He stepped inside and closed the door, looking around. They’d left so quickly last night that he’d hardly seen inside. All he’d had eyes for was the woman, anyway.

 

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