The Langfield Brothers: Box Set

20. Lennox

TWENTY

LENNOX

“So let me get this straight,” Sara says, dropping a blob of concealer onto a sponge. “He showed up at your apartment and told you he ended his engagement with Jill right after he left your office? Swoon ?—”

“Total swoon,” Hannah agrees, fanning herself with a magazine.

“Yes, total swoon.” Dabbing the cool liquid concealer under my eyes, Sara arches a brow. “And then what? You decided eleven years apart was too much and expressed your love for one another, and now you’re back together?”

I clutch her wrist and tug, stopping her from attacking my face with her sponge. “First off, cool it with the jabby hands. Second, no. Obviously, that isn’t what happened.”

Blue eyes narrowed, she huffs. “Then please explain how you went from freaking out that Aiden almost kissed you to bringing him as your date to your family’s party tonight.”

Hannah sucks in a breath and tosses her magazine onto the bed. “He almost kissed you?”

Lips pursed, I assess her, then Sara. “He did kiss me.”

The girls scream in surround sound, making it impossible to tamp down the giddy excitement that bubbles up in my chest at the reminder of Aiden’s kiss. It was nothing like it used to be. Aiden Langfield has become a master with his mouth.

Don’t get me wrong—when we were teenagers, I was certain his kisses would be the best of my life. But adult Aiden has the lips of Adonis. Plump and soft, with just the right amount of pressure, and a teasing tongue. Don’t even get me started on the way he nipped at my bottom lip before pulling away. I practically orgasmed on the spot, and that is not how I roll.

I’m not difficult to please, but I am always in my head, always juggling a million thoughts, which can make it hard to focus and actually orgasm.

But that’s a story for another day.

My attempt to show Aiden that he absolutely could not handle a fake engagement-slash-wedding to yours truly backfired spectacularly when the only person who got lost in that damn kiss was me.

And last night in the hot tub? There was an intimacy there that even a kiss couldn’t convey. Aiden’s vulnerability awoke a protective instinct inside me. It was impossible not to fall a little for him then, and if I’m not careful, I’ll be halfway in love before we even go on our first fake date.

“How was it?” Sara drops onto the bed beside me, apparently giving up on my makeup.

“Ugh, it’s been so long since I’ve been thoroughly kissed,” Hannah says, her tone airy as she falls back against my pillows.

I don’t even have to lie when I reply. “It was perfect. And so incredibly weird. It’s been over a decade, and somehow, it felt like the most natural thing. He was sweet and told me about how Jill cheated on him?—”

“Seriously?” Hannah bolts upright. “That chick is the worst. I’m so glad we don’t have to deal with her calling for her specialty teas and all the dietary requests she pretended were for Aiden. Like girl, the boy lives on orange soda. We know he isn’t drinking green kombucha.”

I snort. She’s not wrong.

“And then what happened?” Sara prods. She’s like a bear sniffing around a campsite for scraps. She won’t let go of this until she’s gotten every morsel out of me.

I shrug, buying myself an extra couple of seconds while I figure out how to spin the next part so I don’t slip up and clue them in to the fake relationship. “I told him about the party, and he offered to come.” See? Perfect. That is an absolutely truthful statement. “He knows my family, and he knows how difficult my relationship with my parents can be. We’re going as friends,” I add, trying to act nonchalant.

I don’t mention how he almost brought me to orgasm in the hot tub just by rubbing me on his lap. Or how I nearly cried when I got to the end of the chapter, and he said he was tired and wanted to head to bed. He was so damn hard beneath me, and when he stepped out of the hot tub, there was no hiding it. Especially because the man had to be a gentleman and wrap me up in a towel before he covered himself.

But he didn’t let us go there. Which is good. Obviously. Because this is fake.

My best friend is not easily persuaded. Especially because I’m terrible at hiding my emotions. That’s one of the reasons I rarely try. So the effort I’m putting in now probably makes it more than obvious that I have feelings for my ex-boyfriend. Feelings, mind you, I’m not supposed to have.

“You can’t even look me in the eye when you say that,” she deadpans.

Hopping off the bed, I snatch the sponge from her hand and the makeup bag from beside her. “Whatever. It’s a crazy situation, and I don’t know what to think.” I stroll into the bathroom to finish getting ready. “Two days ago, I was planning the man’s wedding, and now I’m going on a date with him.”

“So you admit it’s a date?” Sara sings.

I practically jump when she appears in the mirror. What the fuck? Has she been practicing sneaking up on people? She’s as stealthy as a midnight burglar.

“Hannah, can you take this lunatic home with you so I can get dressed in peace?”

In the other room, Hannah laughs. “I’m actually late for a meeting.” She appears in the doorway, bag slung over one shoulder and a magazine pressed against her chest. “Jasper, the idiot, was caught on camera with not one but two strippers last week. I’ve arranged for him to meet with the Revolutionary Society today for afternoon tea. Gotta clean up that reputation somehow.”

Sponge pressed to my face, I eye her reflection. “The Revs have high tea?”

Hannah tosses her head back and snorts. “God no. The Boston Revolutionary society— not related to baseball.”

With that, Hannah is gone.

For several heartbeats, the room is silent. I get back to work on my makeup, though I’m on edge. I know my best friend, and she’s not letting our conversation go. Once the apartment door clicks shut, signaling that Hannah is officially gone, Sara spins and gives me her most intense gaze. She’s trying to read me. See inside my brain. She could probably do it too if I let her. It’s going to take some Jumanji shit to keep her spidey senses at bay.

Ignoring her scrutiny, I continue working, surveying all the imperfections my father will find within seconds of my arrival. There’s not much I can do about my hair or my size, so I focus on the things I can control.

“I feel like you’re hiding something.”

I open the mascara and flutter my lashes wide. “When have I ever hidden anything? I’m an open book, Sar.”

A haughty laugh echoes through the bathroom. “For a month, you hid that you were living in my apartment.”

I almost poke myself in the eye with the mascara when I glare at her. “Judgmental doesn’t look good on you.”

“I’m not trying to be judgmental.” She softens, propping a hip against the counter and facing me. “I’m asking you to trust me. I’m your friend, and if you want to talk about whatever big emotions you’re feeling, I’m here.”

My heart aches at her sincere expression. “I’m focusing on enjoying the moment. Avoiding too much thinking. God, if I think too much about who he was to me and what any of this could mean, I’ll probably live in my head for the next year.”

It’s the most honest I’ve been with her all day. What Aiden and I are doing is dangerous. If we get caught, I could lose everything. If I fall for him again, I risk my heart. But the scariest part? If he falls for me again, I’d break him, and Aiden is the last person in the world I want to hurt. I did a number on him years ago, and while he’s better off because of it, I have no intention of ever hurting him again.

Especially after seeing just how fragile he is.

“You know he’s crazy about you, right?”

Trepidation rolls through me at the words. They’re meant to ease my burden, yet they have the opposite effect. Because, yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.

“You ready for this?” Aiden’s voice is soft as he offers me his hand. His curly light brown hair falls onto his forehead as he helps me out of the car.

“As I’ll ever be,” I quip, tearing my gaze away from his hazelnut eyes and the innocent way he assesses me.

I paired a flowing, pleated light-pink floor-length chiffon skirt with a white silk halter that accentuates one of my best assets: my cleavage is absolutely on point tonight.

With a breath in to settle my nerves, I lead Aiden up the stairs toward the oversized Victorian housing tonight’s festivities. Ahead, each time the doors open and guests filter in, music floats across the porch.

The party is for my cousin’s thirtieth. My boss caught wind and asked who was handling it. Unfortunately, I didn’t have an answer. She gently requested I find out. No pressure or anything.

As Aiden reaches for the door, I tug on his hand. “Should we discuss our story?”

He arches a brow. “People don’t know our history?”

Unease swirls inside me. “I’m pretty sure everyone heard about the great Aiden Langfield’s proposal to his longtime girlfriend right before winning the Cup.”

Grasping the door handle, he chuckles. “I’ve got it handled.”

“How?”

Aiden brushes the back of his fingers against my cheek. “Trust me, Lex. Everyone in that room will know the only woman I have eyes for is you.”

I’m not sure if it’s his words or the intensity of his gaze, or maybe the way his lips tip up when he realizes that he’s left me speechless, but every single thing about this moment has my brain screaming shamrock over and over again. Everything about this man spells trouble for my heart, and I have a feeling tonight is the beginning of my downfall.

“Ready?” he asks softly, his hand traveling down my jaw until he grips my chin.

In response, I lick my lips. There’s no stopping the reaction.

His smile is wicked. “If my girl wants a kiss, all she has to do is ask,” he teases, dipping in close.

And then his mouth is on mine. Fuck . Why is he so good at this? His lips shouldn’t be so soft, and his tongue shouldn’t know precisely how to slide against mine to make my kitty purr. But here we are. I’m about to walk into a family party I’ve been dreading for days, yet I’m happily preparing to maul my fake date. Clutching the lapels of his suit jacket, I pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

“Excuse me,” a nearby voice mutters.

Aiden pulls me closer, out of the way of the door. I reluctantly break the kiss, and as I pull back, Aiden wipes that thumb against his lip again, chuckling. I should be bothered by the way he’s always wiping away my kisses, but I’m too busy searching for oxygen. When my head stops spinning, the pink lipstick smudged on his face registers. Cringing, I wipe at it as well.

“Sorry,” I say. “It’s a stain, so you might need to wash it in the bathroom.”

Aiden grins that schoolboy grin, and my heart skips like it’s a rock floating across the water, creating life-changing ripples. What is happening to me? I don’t do heart flutters. I don’t do love.

“It’ll sell the relationship. My new girlfriend can’t keep her hands— or lips —off me.” With a wink, he pulls the door open.

Right. Because this is all to sell the relationship. The flirting. The winking. The earth-shattering kiss… fake.

I swipe both sides of my mouth, straighten my back, and step inside with my head held high, pink hair and all. This night is going to be an epic disaster.