Chapter One
“You don’t think I could make it work?” Tate Price asked his friend and business partner, Evan Daugherty.
Evan shook his head, his mouth quirking into a faint smile. “No. For an hour or so, maybe. But not for an entire weekend.”
“Want to make a bet on that?”
Kim Banks shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Um, guys?”
The two men in the party of five at the restaurant table ignored her, even though she was the one who had unwittingly initiated this good-natured confrontation.
“I’ll take that bet,” Evan said, his gaze locked with Tate’s smiling amber eyes. “Say, a hundred bucks?”
Tate’s firm chin lifted in response to the provocation. “You’re on.”
“Seriously, guys. We’re not doing this. My mother will just have to be disappointed in me—again.”
Kim might as well not have spoken at all, for the reaction she received from her regular Wednesday lunch mates.
“I tend to agree with Evan.” Kim’s coworker Emma Grainger absently speared bamboo chopsticks into the noodles on her plate as she focused on the conversation. “I’m not at all sure this scheme would work.”
Before Tate could reply his sister, Lynette Price, another coworker of Kim’s, jumped in. “Tate could definitely do it. He’s, like, the king of practical jokes.”
Emma tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear and shook her head. “Married people give off a certain—well, vibe. Tate and Kim just don’t have it.”
“Because they haven’t tried for us,” Lynette countered logically.
Growing increasingly uncomfortable with this line of talk, and hardly able to even look at Tate now, Kim cleared her throat. Maybe she should not have told her friends about the bizarre appeal her eccentric, five-times-married mother had made during an out-of-the-blue phone call last night. It turned out that, unbeknownst to Kim, her mother had been lying for more than a year that Kim was happily married to the father of her nine-month-old daughter. Now her nutty mom had asked Kim to bring the baby—as well as someone pretending to be Kim’s husband—to an upcoming family reunion.
Kim had learned years earlier to shrug off Betsy Dyess Banks Cavenaugh O’Hara Vanlandingham Shaw’s antics, because she would drive herself as crazy as her mom if she took it all too seriously. Humor and avoidance had become her two weapons of choice against her mother’s periodic campaigns to draw Kim back into the chaos from which she had escaped nine years earlier, as soon as she had turned eighteen and graduated high school. Though Kim had assured her amused friends that she had no intention of complying with this latest wacky request, somehow the conversation had wound around to whether anyone—specifically Tate—could hoodwink Kim’s extended, estranged family into believing he’d been married to Kim for some eighteen months.
She shot a quick look at Tate then. Despite the incredible twist their conversation had taken, he lounged comfortably in his seat, looking as fit and undeniably hot as ever. Seeing her looking at him, he winked, and she dropped her gaze quickly to her plate, feeling her cheeks warm. For the past five months, Kim had been trying to hide her attraction to Tate from her friends, and she thought she’d done so successfully. She’d tried just as hard to deny it to herself, but that had been a much more futile effort.
“Tate would also have to convince them he’s her kid’s dad,” Evan pointed out. “So not only would he have to pretend to be in love with Kim, he’d have to look comfortable with her kid. Having the kid shriek every time he picks her up would hardly help his case.”
“Her name is Daryn,” Kim muttered. “And I—”
“That wouldn’t be an issue,” Tate said with a chuckle. “I just wouldn’t pick her up. Kim could be the hovering mom who doesn’t give anyone else a chance to take the baby.”
“And it’s not like Daryn is old enough to talk, so she wouldn’t be a problem,” Lynette agreed.
Emma propped an elbow on the table as she looked at the men with a contemplative frown. “This still doesn’t sound like a very good bet for you, Evan. Why would anyone openly challenge Kim about whether she and Tate were really married? You’d need a more definitive sign to prove Tate was able to convince Kim’s family that he’s her loving husband.”
Evan looked intrigued. “Like what?”
“Grandma’s ring,” Lynette chimed in eagerly.
Kim choked. “Oh, now that’s going too far.”
She had confided in her friends that her long-widowed maternal grandmother was disgusted with her children’s and grandchildren’s dismissive attitudes toward their marriage vows, resulting in an appalling number of divorces among them. Grandma Dyess had informed everyone that the first of her grandchildren who entered into a union that Grandma herself believed would last would receive her diamond engagement ring. So far Grandma had refused to endorse any of her grandchildren’s choices, and rightly so, since only one of the seven was currently married and Kim had heard that union was a shaky one. Still…
Lynette waved a hand dismissively in response to Kim’s protest. “I didn’t say you should take the ring under false pretenses. Obviously, that would be wrong. But if you and Tate could convince Grandma to offer it to you, that would mean he’d won the bet.”
“And that’s not wrong at all,” Kim murmured sarcastically.
Lynette just beamed at her, visibly pleased with herself for coming up with such a perfect solution.
“That would definitely work,” Emma agreed. “If Grandma offers the ring, it would be clear that Tate pulled off the charade.”
“That would be the ultimate proof,” Evan conceded. “But I still say if anyone—grandmother or other relative—expresses doubt, the bet would be lost.”
“Well, since you won’t be there, how would you know if anyone expressed doubt?” Emma asked. “Tate wouldn’t have to tell you if they did.”
Both Lynette and Evan looked offended by Emma’s naive question.
“Tate wouldn’t lie to me to win a bet,” Evan disputed loyally.