She nodded.
“I grabbed Sprite at the store. Want some on ice?”
“Yes, please.”
He returned to find her asleep.
Not wanting to leave her alone with her door unlocked, he made his steak, then found extreme winter games to watch on ESPN.
By the time he heard stirring from the bedroom, the sun had long since set.
Paisley wandered down the hall. More hair had escaped her ponytail than was in, and her dress looked more like a rumpled prison uniform than her usual classy style. Everything about her kicked Wayne’s protective streak into overdrive.
“Let me help you.” Up from the sofa, he guided her to where he’d been sitting, then plucked a faux fur throw from the back of the sofa to cover her.
“Thanks, but why are you still here?”
“I don’t have a key. What if I’d left you alone and killers or drug dealers strolled inside?”
She rolled her eyes. “Because we have so many of those in our gated community.”
“Hey—anything could happen. My job is all about safekeeping our American way of life.”
Laughing, she said, “Not to detract from your actual military service, but I’ve seen you and your buddies protecting—especially bikini models. Yeah...” She winked. “You all kept them super safe.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I...” The twinkle in her eyes told him she was not only feeling better, but sassy. It made her kooky hair extra adorable. “Did you ever get my beef jerky?”
“I see how it is—you’re just using me for meal delivery?”
“Wayne...” Something about his teasing question served as an instant vibe wrecker. Not a good sign for a guy in serious need of a favor.
He got her snack and poured her another Sprite before sitting across from her and muting the TV. He cleared his throat. “So earlier...”
“When you asked me to be your rental wife?” Eyebrows raised, she shook her head.
“I wasn’t going to bring it up again, but since you did, hear me out.” Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. “I haven’t told you—or pretty much anyone besides Logan—but my dad has cancer.”
“Oh no.” She dropped her piece of jerky back into the bag. “Wayne, I’m so sorry. Is he getting treatment?”
“That’s just it—he says he’s too far gone for that. I’ve drilled him for more details, but he refuses to talk about it. He doesn’t even want Mom to know, but I don’t understand how if he’s that sick, she hasn’t noticed. When I try broaching the subject with her, she tells me he seems tired, but is otherwise fine, Which makes no sense considering his doctors gave him...” His voice cracked with emotion, recalling how much time they’d spent together on the family ranch. It was the little things that now meant so much. Fishing together and building a tree house. The time his junior prom date bailed, so his dad took him camping instead, and told him he could be anything he set his mind to. Even when his marriage crashed and burned, his dad had helped stomp out the fire. “They gave him a couple months to live. He says his sole regret is not having grandkids.”
She gasped and covered her mouth, but then hugged her baby bump. “Which is where I come in? You want me to pretend this is your baby? That we’re together, so your father rests in peace?” Her gaze welled. “Wayne—that’s the sweetest thing ever. But I’ve met your parents lots of times. Surely they’d remember you and I are just friendly neighbors?”
“Exactly. Think about it. That’s what makes this whole plan perfect. What could be more natural than two friends falling for each other and having a baby?”
“Wayne—” She released a long, slow exhale. “You know I love you, but not that way.”
“That’s the best part. I feel the same. You’re a great girl, but—”
She frowned. “I’m not your type?”
“I was going to say I’m career military and blow shit up. You, on the other hand, spend your days making the world more beautiful with your design business.” Plus, Wayne’s divorce left him one hundred percent certain he didn’t have the intestinal fortitude to marry again. Give him a bomb over a bombshell of a woman any day. “You’re an amazing soul. Any man would be lucky to have you. But this engagement wouldn’t be real.”
“But what about your mom? She’s not dying. What happens when she wants to spend time with the baby after your dad passes?”
“Great question.” Now Wayne was the one wearing a frown. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought that through.”
“Although... I suppose after he dies, you could tell her the truth?”
“Does that mean you’re at least willing to consider my plan?”
“For you, for your sweet father, of course. But there’s a lot involved. We’d have to really be in sync—not just act like friendly neighbors, but...you know.” Her blush told him her mind had gone straight to the gutter.
Yeah, he did know.
Once upon a time, a couple weeks after moving in, he’d considered asking Paisley on a date, but then he’d been deployed—hell, maybe a better way of looking at it was that six months in Iraq had given him an overdue reality check. He couldn’t put himself through another potential breakup. The pain of loving and losing was too damned intense.
Survival was about keeping his head in the game—not on a woman.
“Thank you.” Wayne was caught off guard by the profound gratitude he felt for her in the moment. “It really is a half-baked plan, but...” He worked past the knot in his throat that hardened every time he thought of a world without his father. “If we successfully pull this off and it brings my dad comfort in the last weeks of his life, it could be worth it.”
“Absolutely.” She wiped silent tears with the backs of her hands.
“This is good.” Damned if his eyes weren’t also stinging from the relief of having her onboard. “Nutty-as-a-drunk-squirrel crazy—but good.”
“For the record, you have to know this could end in disaster.”
“True.” But more likely, his plan would bring his father much-needed peace.
“Just to be clear, I refuse to take money. This would strictly be a humanitarian mission.”
“Deal.” He stood, crossing the short distance between them to shake her hand. Was it his imagination, or was there a spark that had never been there before?
Not cool. Sparks were the last thing he needed from the neighbor he considered one of his best friends.
* * *
“WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. Back up the truck.” In the glorified closet that served as Velvet’s break room, Monica tossed her usual frozen breakfast burrito in the microwave, then slammed the door before setting the time. “Wayne—hotshot, abs-of-steel navy SEAL—wants to rent you and your unborn baby? Sweetie...” She shook her head. “That’s more than a little twisted.”
As if on cue, Paisley’s cell buzzed. Her mother. One more problem she’d prefer avoiding. Paisley touched the decline button for the call.
“You can’t keep this up forever. One day, you will have to talk to your mom.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second, but that day isn’t this day. Now, where were we?”
“You were trying rather unsuccessfully to explain why you’re agreeing to Wayne’s crazy scheme.”
“His dad is