The Borrowed Boyfriend (28 page)

“Yeah, that. Only we can’t on our teacher salaries, and it would take years to save up.” Jill knew Brad came from money, but that he’d never ask his family for help. He still had access to this club only because it was one of his parents’ membership perks. His parents had tried to discourage Brad from going into high-school teaching, hoping his expensive education would pay off in a more lucrative job. They’d never really approved of his decisions, including his romantic interest in Susan Miller, a fellow math teacher at Brad’s school. The only time they’d gotten the tiniest bit excited about his choices was when he’d announced he was marrying bestselling writer and international personality Jillian Jamison. Their pride and admiration lasted as long as it took to explain the marriage was a sham. At that point they reverted to being
extremely disappointed in him.

 
Maybe if she closed her eyes and counted to ten this would all go away. Just last week, things had been on track. “I don’t get it,” she said. “Susan no longer wants the money?”

“She says she no longer wants the
stupid San Juan Islands
—her words, not mine; between you and me, I still think they’re great. It’s just they’re suddenly not so important anymore. Neither is that wad of cash, which Susan now calls tainted…foul. Ill-gotten gains. She’s scared that if I go through with this, it will curse our relationship forever. No matter how far away we move, we’ll never outrun its stench. Plus, she
was
visibly upset about seeing you in the dress. It made it all so real.”

Ill-gotten gains?
That sounded more like Susan’s mother talking than Susan. Susan’s mom was a retired English teacher. “Susan talked to her mom, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, but that’s the only person, I swear!”

This web of deceit was growing larger by the minute. Jill absolutely had to keep this under wraps or the whole thing would fall apart. Brad’s parents knew the truth; so did Susan and her mom. Who would be next?

“Don’t look now,” Brad cautioned. “Here comes trouble.”

Jill glanced at the door to see Cassandra Evans approaching, her short golf skirt swishing from side to side. “Well, well,” she purred. “Look what the cat dragged in. Two little lovebirds.”

Brad smiled tightly above the rim of his cup. “Morning, Cassandra.”

She barely acknowledged him, turning her attention on Jill. “Saw the engagement announcement in the paper, so I guess it’s official.” She fanned manicured fingernails across the air in front of her with a dramatic sweep. “‘The Lady Matchmaker Takes a Groom.’
And,
” she added bitingly, “
for more than six weeks
!”

“It never said—” Brad started before Jill cut him off.

“I’m sorry that it pains you.” Jill frowned sympathetically at Cassandra. “That I’m marrying first.”

Cassandra straightened on long, tanned legs. “That part doesn’t worry me in the least,” she lied. She folded her arms in front of her and cocked her blond head, her bob bouncing. “I’m much more interested in your next book.” She homed in on Jill’s eyes. “What’s it about?”

Jill’s words were clipped. “Probably not you, Cassandra.”

“Oooh, being evasive, are we?” She scrutinized Brad up and down, and he squirmed in his chair, uncomfortable with her perusal. Jill waited expectantly for her next barb, trying to think up something witty to say. Anything to drive this woman away. Cassandra Evans, her nemesis. The one who’d picked on her since the ninth grade. And who’d lost to Jill as senior class president. And who’d come in a close second to Jill’s valedictorian. Cassandra, who’d aspired to write great literature but now worked for a gossip magazine, the sort that spied on celebrities with long-lens cameras.

“Don’t you have someone to interview, Cassandra?” Brad to the rescue!
 

She narrowed her eyes at Jill. “I’m much more interested in the discussion right here, and this sudden cacophony of wedding bells. How
sweet
that you’ve known each other forever—

almost like a brother and sister—and now you’re getting hitched. Have you carried a torch all that time?”

“Brad and I were just leaving.” Jill pushed back her chair, but Cassandra reached out and grabbed it, settling her claws on its high back.

“Don’t think I don’t know something’s up with this little wedding deal.” She cut a glance at Brad. “And, I’m going to find out
what.
”

 
Jill watched Cassandra stride away, her heart pounding.
 

“Don’t let her get to you,” Brad said. “She doesn’t know anything.”

“Yeah? And what will she think if I switch grooms?”

“That you’ve done better? Traded up?”

“Brad,
puh-leeze
… Don’t let me down.” She reached out and gripped both his hands in hers. “Pretty please, with jalapeños on top!”

“Stop trying to play to my weakness.”

Jill fought back the heat in her eyes, thinking of her grandfather. “What about mine?”

He squeezed her hands in his. “I’m suggesting a solution, Jill. One that can work for all of us.”

“Oh, great. And your
solution
has me play-marrying a guy I can’t stand?”

“Play is the operative word there, as in pretend. Besides, how do know you still won’t like him? You haven’t seen Hunter in nearly twelve years.”

Jill felt trapped, as if Brad had painted her into a corner. There was no way out that wouldn’t leave messy tracks everywhere. If she didn’t marry soon, she’d lose her book advance money. Without that, she couldn’t help her grandpa. But this wasn’t just anybody they were talking about as a replacement for Brad! Famed womanizer Hunter Delaney had recently moved to neighboring Parkland. He’d graduated from prep school with Brad, then had gone to an Ivy League college prior to accepting a job on Wall Street. Now, he was in business marketing of some sort and had taken a position at a prestigious advertising firm in the city abutting Sugar Hollow. It didn’t matter if he’d improved himself professionally. Personally, Hunter was still a lout. Word was, he’d left a trail of broken hearts from Boston to Brooklyn. Who knew how many other women he’d crushed on his way here? No way was Jill sidling up next to him at the altar. Pretend or not. Not for any amount of money.

“Absolutely not,” she stated firmly. “No way, no how.”

Brad released her hands, then dropped his bombshell. “That’s too bad. Hunter will be bummed.”

Jill’s jaw dropped so fast it nearly smacked the table. “You mean you’ve talked to him?”

Brad reached into his gym bag on the floor and pulled something from it. He nodded and extended an envelope in her direction. “Signed, sealed, delivered… He’s yours.”

Chapter Two

One week earlier, Hunter Delaney had set down the paperwork and looked up at his best friend. “No way, no how, buddy. No can do.”

“I’ve already explained, it’s for a good cause.”

Hunter shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not my fault the girl’s got career problems.”

“You do recall who we’re talking about, right? Jill Jamison?
The
Jillian Jamison.”

“Hard to miss. She’s in the media all the time.” Hunter absently stared at the door through which two attractive women had just entered. They were obviously alone, and definitely prowling. Their eyes panned the sports bar in a predatory fashion, until the redhead found Hunter. He gave her a slow, sexy smile, then quipped sotto voce, “I’ll take the redhead, you can have Goldilocks.”

“I’m taken.”

“Yeah, twice.” He turned back to Brad and lightly shoved his shoulder. “Maybe you should ease up on that. Having a fiancée and a mistress doesn’t look good. Not when one of them’s a…” He spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “…
relationship expert.
”

“I’m sorry,” a woman’s voice said. “Do I know you?”

Hunter turned to see the gorgeous redhead standing by their table. “I couldn’t help but notice you,” she continued. Pretty dark eyes sparkled, indicating interest. “You look
so
familiar.”

Brad abruptly scraped back his chair and stood.

“That’s because he’s about to become a family man.”
 

“Huh?”

Brad tugged at Hunter’s arm, but Hunter pulled back. “Hey!”

Brad leveled a look at the redhead and spoke with conviction. “You know how some guys are. Just can’t get enough.”

She went pale.

Brad tried again, locking his grip on Hunter’s bicep. “Come on, lover boy. A wedding rehearsal awaits!”

“Wedding?” Her voice was shrill. “Well, I never meant to…” She took a few hurried steps backward. “What I mean is… Gosh! Engaged? Are you, really?”

Hunter stood and straightened his trousers. “I…? No!”

The blonde, who’d been watching from nearby, rushed to her friend’s defense. “Come on, Glenda,” she said, hooking her by the elbow. “He’s one of
those
.”

Hunter exhaled audibly as the women walked away, occasionally turning to shoot disgusted looks at him over their shoulders. “Thanks, Brad. Thanks a lot.”

“You’ll be thanking me a heck of a lot more, once all of this is over.”

“Oh?” He was totally unconvinced.

Brad scooped the paperwork off the table and shoved it at his chest.
 

“Just read the fine print.”

It was Sunday, one of the days Jill customarily paid a visit to her grandfather. She also came on Wednesdays for lunch. When he’d been feeling better, she’d taken him out on little getaways from the retirement home in her car. Sometimes they ate at restaurants. Frequently, they picked up carry-out and went to the park. Gordon Jamison loved being outdoors. Now that his health had declined even further, their excursions had been reduced to visiting the interior courtyard of his building. She parked his wheelchair beside the butterfly garden, where a half dozen monarchs fluttered. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”

He took her hand between his wrinkled palms and patted it. “Just about as pretty as you are.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.” She smiled softly. “You always did have kind words for the ladies.”

“Yes,” he replied wistfully. “Especially your grandmother.” He glanced around expectantly past the shrubs and budding azaleas. “Where is she? Coming soon?”

Jill’s heart ached as she fibbed. “Any minute.”

She sat on a cool stone bench to watch a cardinal couple taking turns at a birdfeeder. She couldn’t imagine how tough getting by without his wife must be for her grandfather. The two had stayed committed to each other through a long, loving marriage, and the delivery of one precious child: Jill’s late mom. She hung her head, grateful for her memories, even the ones that pained her. At the age of twenty-seven, she’d lost both her parents within a year, her dad from heart failure and her mom from an incurable infection following a routine surgery. Neither death was anticipated and both had hit her hard. She was alone in the world now, except for her grandfather. Perhaps it was a blessing that, in his mind, he still had all of them.

“How are your parents doing?” he asked her. “They never come to see me anymore.”

“They want to, and they will,” she lied sweetly. “Just as soon as they get back from their trip.”

“That’s right,” he said, but his expression was muddied. “I remember now. Alaska, was it?”

“Nebraska,” she answered, referring to the last couples trip her parents had taken together. They were always doing things like that. Setting off on unusual adventures.

“Forget Paris, France!”
her mom had chirped.
“We’re hitting Rhome, Texas!”

Jill’s dad had chuckled his reply.
“Yee-haw, cowgirl!”
 

Her parents’ unabashed affection for one another had embarrassed her then. In retrospect, Jill was glad she had that type of exchange to remember them by. Though the time they’d shared together was cut short, they’d made the most of what they’d had. Besides that, they’d been mighty good parents. The only thing they hadn’t prepared for was dying early and leaving their finances in a wreck. Her dad had planned to work for several more years, and enjoyed a lifestyle he figured his future earnings would support. When Jill’s parents had passed, they’d been in debt up to their eyeballs. It had taken settling their entire estate to pay off the creditors, and there wasn’t enough left over to provide for her grandfather for more than a few years. Jill had taken that upon herself, but gladly and with a whole heart. She loved her grandpa dearly.

“You’re looking a little down today,” he said keenly. “Is something wrong?”

“Just work worries,” Jill replied, lifting a shoulder. “Those come and go.”

“Well, you best tell your agent to make them scat! Have her tell that cranky publisher of yours that you’re a world-famous author, ya hear? I’ve seen you on the television. All of us have.” He was referring to himself and his fellow residents at the home. They had a large common area where they watched the evening news and the contemporary entertainment shows that followed. Jill’s expertise as a relationship guru had been touted numerous times, thanks to the success of her bestselling first book,
Love Like You Mean It.
Her second book hadn’t done as well. Now, if she didn’t score big with this third one, she’d be out of a contract, and out of money—with no way to help her grandfather.