That Kind of Guy: A Spicy Small Town Fake Dating Romance (The Queen’s Cove Series Book 1)

A KNOCK on the front door woke me up from my afternoon nap. What time was it? I fumbled for my phone, eyes bleary and head foggy with sleep.

Five o’clock. I overslept, and the caterers were here.

I pulled pants on, not bothering with a shirt, rushed downstairs, and opened the door, squinting in the light. “Hey, come on in—oh. Hi.”

Avery stood on my front doorstep in a short dress that came to mid-thigh. It was black with flowers on it, short-sleeved, very demure except for the neckline. My gaze snagged on her necklace, a silver locket resting on a hint of her cleavage.

Soft. Smooth. My fingers twitched with the urge to graze her neckline, skim over the smooth skin and trace down further.

Blood raced to my cock before I could tear my focus up to her face. I inhaled sharply. I was standing at my front door, hard and wearing sweatpants, an unfortunate combination.

“Hi,” I repeated, gaze returning to her cleavage. She always wore higher necklines, I thought. Had I noticed her tits before? Standing there, they were all I could notice. “The caterers aren’t even here yet.” I tensed my thighs, something I had read once helped pull blood away from an inconvenient erection.

I tore my gaze up to her face, only to find her staring at my bare chest with a look I could only describe as hungry.

My cock was hard again.

“Um.” She blinked and glanced up at me. Her lids were heavy. “Did you just wake up?”

“I was having a nap.” I opened the door and gestured for her to come in, tensing my thighs like crazy to dispel the boner which was visible through these sweatpants.

She walked past me into the foyer, and I was gifted with a view of her incredible legs, long and toned. I bet her skin was soft. I bet it would feel amazing to run my mouth up her thighs right before I—

“Make yourself at home,” I told her, halfway up the stairs. “I’m going to have a quick shower.”

Jesus Christ, Rhodes, get your shit together.

Twenty seconds later, I stood in my shower, shivering under the icy water.

I am not going to beat off in the shower thinking about Avery.

I will not think about how her tits look incredible.

I will not think about running my mouth down the hem of her neckline.

The doorbell rang again. That would be the caterer. I reached for the faucet to turn the water off before I caught myself. Avery would let the caterer in. She wasn’t the kind of person to sit around and watch, she’d jump in wherever she was needed. I liked that about her, I realized. She was a team player.

She’d probably try to help too much tonight. Not that I didn’t want her helping, but I wanted her to relax, have fun, and put work mode aside for a night. I made a mental note to mention this to Div in case he saw her loading the dishwasher or plating appetizers.

Tonight was important. I had invited a lot of people from town—my family, my friends, Avery’s friends, anyone influential. It was important they saw us together in my home, and more importantly, that they saw me as a stable, dependable guy who had his life together. Not a horndog who couldn’t keep his boner down like some teenager.

Did I have a thing for Avery? Sure. Of course. Who wouldn’t? I had always thought she was cute and fun to spar with, but I had never been turned on by her like this.

I gave myself a break, though. We were pretending to be a couple, this kind of confusion came with the territory. It didn’t mean anything.

Besides, to Avery, this was just a deal.

I climbed out of the shower. The kiss we shared at the restaurant flashed into my head. I groaned and rubbed a towel over my wet hair. I was going to get one more do-over kiss to get it out of my system and then focus on the campaign. That was the reason we were doing this, after all.

After I was dressed and threw a bit of product in my hair, I headed back downstairs. Avery chatted with the caterer while making room in my fridge for the hors d’oeuvres. The bartender was setting up on the patio. Shortly after, people began to arrive. Music was playing. The doorbell rang.

“Hannah, hey,” I greeted, opening the door. She blushed and handed me a wine bottle. “Happy engagement. I don’t know anything about wine,” she admitted with obvious discomfort, wincing at the bottle.

“Well, it’s your lucky day because I love this one,” I said, reaching out to hug her. She seemed surprised and blinked a few times. “Come on in.”

“Your house is beautiful.” She stepped into the foyer and glanced past me with a little wave and smile to Avery. “Hey.”

Avery wrapped her in a big hug. “You came.”

“Of course I’m here. It’s your engagement party.”

Behind her, Wyatt and Holden climbed the steps. “Who invited the riff-raff?” I asked. Wyatt gave me a friendly shove and walked past me into the house.

“You guys know Hannah, right?”

Hannah was frozen. “I have to use the bathroom,” she excused herself and scurried away.

Odd.

“Avery,” Holden said.

“Hey, Holden.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’m not staying long,” he told her. “I don’t like parties.”

She gave him a thumbs up. “Okay then.”

Later, everyone had drinks and a server circled with hors d’oeuvres while people made conversation and laughed and made fun of the seventies disco playlist Wyatt had put on. The bartender shook drinks at his makeshift bar on the side of the patio while the sun began to set through the trees.

“How’s the campaign going?” my mom asked as we stood on the patio. We were leaning against the railing. I glanced around for Avery but didn’t see her. She must be inside.

“Great, I think.” I thought back to Div’s latest update this morning. “Our polling numbers are up, and we have lots of engagement, lots of questions from the locals.”

The second Avery and I got fake-engaged, my polling numbers jumped. I still wasn’t at Isaac-level approvals, which bothered me, but Div and I had spent hours on the campaign last night, and there wasn’t much more I could do except keep myself seen in Queen’s Cove and prove I was a responsible guy.

My dad tilted his beer at me. “Div seems like a great assistant.”

“He is. He’s holding the campaign together.” I had mentioned to Div privately that after the election, he could have his choice of either joining me at town hall as my assistant or getting a promotion at Rhodes Construction.

“And things with Avery seem to be going very well.” My mom gave me a confidential smile.

“They are.” My chest tightened a little, and I glanced around again but didn’t see her.

“Excuse me a moment,” my dad told us. “Elizabeth, would you like another drink?”

“That would be lovely.” She gave him a warm smile and brushed his arm before turning to me. “I was surprised when you proposed, but I should have known you always have something up your sleeve. She’ll be a lovely addition to our family and I’m looking forward to spending more time with her.” She beamed. “I can’t tell you how happy I am you chose her.”

A pang of guilt stabbed me in the stomach. All my mother ever wanted was for her kids to be happy, and I knew she liked Avery. I wouldn’t be able to keep her from getting attached to Avery, that was just the way my mother was, warm and kind and welcoming. I swallowed, thinking of how hard she’d take it when Avery and I called it quits. She wouldn’t say anything because she never wanted to put her worries on us, but I knew it would make her sad.

My dad returned with a fresh drink for my mom. “Elizabeth, I brought you something weird I think you’ll like. It’s called a French 75.”

My mom took a sip of the champagne flute, and her eyebrows rose with delight. “Mmmm. Something bubbly, something a little sour?”

“Lemon, champagne, and gin. Careful,” I told her. “They’re strong.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to see us get wild or we might make another Rhodes son.” My dad squeezed my mom around the shoulders, and she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

I winced. “Alright, keep it PG.”

“Let’s set up a dinner with Avery soon,” my dad suggested to me and my mom.

“Emmett.” Div appeared at my side, gently pushing a guilty-looking Avery toward me. “I found her behind the bar.”

Her cheeks were pink. “I’m just making sure he has what he needs.”

“Thanks,” I said to Div and wrapped my arm around Avery’s shoulders, pulling her to me.

“Avery, congratulations on buying the restaurant,” my dad told her.

“Thank you, but it’s not a done deal yet.” Her gaze cut to mine.

I gave her shoulder a light squeeze and glanced down at her, into her dark blue eyes. “It’ll happen.” I gave her a little wink, and she smiled.

“Have you set a date yet?” My mom’s eyes glowed with excitement, but she was trying to keep it subdued so as to not scare us.

Avery waved a hand. “In a few years. We haven’t thought too much about it. We’re not in a rush.”

“Oh. Well.” Disappointment flashed over my mom’s face. “That’s fine, too. Just don’t get married while we’re in Europe!” She laughed.

“Right, your trip. When do you two leave?” I asked them. I looked down at Avery. “They rented a place in the south of France for six months starting in July.”

Avery’s eyes lit up. “Amazing. You’re going to eat like royalty.”

Sam gestured at us. “You two should come stay with us. It’s a big house, lots of room.”

“Maybe,” Avery mused with a lopsided grin. “I’m not sure if I can leave the restaurant while we’re transferring ownership.” She gave them a pressed smile and shrugged.

“Maybe you can do some location scouting,” Elizabeth suggested, wiggling her eyebrows at us. “A summer wedding in the south of France? What could be more romantic?”

A thought struck me.

“Excuse us for a second,” I told my parents. “We need to check on the food.” I pulled Avery into the house and through the party.

“Why are you being so weird?” she asked as we stepped into the quiet kitchen.

“I have a great idea. I don’t know if you knew this about me but I’m a genius.”

She stared at me.

“It’s fine to be intimidated by my intellectual prowess.” I shot her a charming grin.

Her nostrils flickered with rage, and happy feelings floated in my chest.

“Did you pull me in here to brag about yourself?”

“No.” I braced my hands on her arms. “We should get married.”

She froze. “What? For real? No way.”

I shook my head. “We wouldn’t actually get married, fuck no. We could sign a fake document or something. But we should have a wedding. Adams, you saw how my mom went ape shit in there for a wedding. Think of how the town would react.” I sighed. “My polls would shoot through the roof.”

“Elizabeth did not go ‘ape shit’ in there, she was politely asking questions.”

“This is the boost I need to crush Isaac,” I told her. “I have a good feeling about this.”

She shook her head. “Emmett, no. We’re already in too deep. I’m not planning a stupid wedding I don’t want.”

I leaned down, closer to her. “Adams, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger. It would all be taken care of.”

She shook her head again. “No. I’m not doing it.”

I paused, thinking, ignoring how warm her skin was through the sleeves of her dress. Avery wanted the restaurant. I was already cosigning on her loan, we’d agreed to it. I was already giving her double-paned energy-efficient windows because she agreed to the engagement.

When I was at the restaurant a few weeks ago, I noticed water damage to part of the deck.

That was it. That was the bargaining tool I needed.

“Deck repairs,” I told her. “Rhodes Construction will replace those rotting planks so you can open up the rest of the patio.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her. “More patio space means more income throughout the summer.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “New deck.”

I scoffed. “Hell, no.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “The new planks won’t match the old planks. It’ll look cheaply done.”

I narrowed my eyes back at her. “Our work never looks cheaply done.”

“New deck.” Our faces were inches apart.

I leaned in further. “No. Repaired deck.”

We stared at each other a moment and a spark passed between our gazes. Were we going to kiss again?

Was this my do-over opportunity?

“No deal.” She shrugged and moved to walk out of the kitchen, but I held her in place.

“Okay, okay. New deck. Jesus Christ, Adams, you are a tough negotiator.”

She gave me a wicked smile I felt all the way down to my cock before leaning in and rising up on her toes until her mouth was close to my ear. “That’s because I have all the power,” she whispered, and I shivered both from her words and from her breath tickling my ear.

She broke out of my grasp and walked out of the kitchen, and I stood there, thinking about what it would feel like if she pulled my earlobe into her mouth. I shivered again, and my cock ached. Jesus.

I had a thing for Avery Adams, and I had to get it out of my system.

Tonight. I’d make a move on her tonight.

“Great news,” I said to my parents as I walked back onto the patio. Avery stood next to them, and I pulled her tight to me. “Since you’ll be in France for so long, we’re going to get married before you leave.”

Their mouths fell open.

“Honey, that’s great,” my mom said. “You know we leave in a month, right?” She glanced between Avery and me. “And you really aren’t pregnant?”

Avery snorted. “I really am not pregnant.”

The image of Avery and me, naked in my bed, me thrusting into her and spilling into her, flashed into my head. Putting a baby in her.

I never cared to have kids before.

The idea of Avery carrying our kid? Why was that so appealing to me?

I cleared my throat. “We just don’t want to drag this out forever. We don’t want it looming over us for a couple years.”

“Looming?” my mom repeated.

They frowned at us, and I glanced at Avery, who shot me an incredulous look. It was as if she was trying not to roll her eyes.

“I mean,” I started, smiling at her, “we’re just so in love, we don’t want to wait.”

“Aw, that’s nice.” My dad looked wistful.

“Do you have a dress picked out?” Elizabeth asked.

“Oh. A dress. Right.” Avery frowned. “I guess I’m going to need one of those.”

Elizabeth laughed. “If I didn’t know you two better, I’d think you weren’t interested in the wedding at all.”

Beneath my arm, Avery tensed. I glanced down at her, and something passed between our gazes. I squeezed her tighter, and she looked back to Elizabeth with a smile.

“I’ve never been good at wedding stuff,” she said.

Elizabeth pulled out her phone. “Let’s go to Wedding Bells in Victoria next weekend.”

“Sorry?” Avery blinked.

“Wedding dress shopping. I’m coming with you.” She looked up. “I assume your mom will be there, too? It’ll be nice to meet her.”

Avery tensed again. Instinctively, my hand moved from her arm to the top of her shoulder and my thumb brushed the skin just above her collar, where her neck met her shoulder. Why was she getting worked up about her mom going shopping with her? It didn’t seem like a big deal.

“I don’t think she can make it, it’s pretty short notice,” she said.

My dad, always the astute one, picked up on Avery’s discomfort. “I heard you two paid a visit to our local turtle emporium today.”

“Gross,” I told them, and my mom grinned.

Avery’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I forgot. One second.” She pulled away from me and I let her, but she returned a second later with a stack of photographs. She held one up. “Elizabeth, it’s you.”

My mom took one look at the photo and started howling. Sam took another photograph from Avery and threw his head back, laughing.

“What?” I asked.

Holden walked out onto the patio, looked over Elizabeth’s shoulder, then at me, then back at the picture, and grinned.

“What?” I demanded.

“I stopped by Don’s place on my way here,” Avery told me. “He printed out the pictures for me.” She closed her eyes and shook her head in satisfaction. “And they are good.”

“What’s going on?” Wyatt asked, taking the photo from my dad. “Oh, dude,” he said, laughing and looking at me with pity. “You’ll do anything to win, huh?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I told them, speaking above their laughter. “Avery set me up.” I cringed down at the picture of Avery and me, turtles held up to our faces. The camera had captured Avery’s pure mirth and my cold fear.

The caterer signaled that dinner was ready. I exhaled in relief and led Avery inside.

“We haven’t talked about the wedding,” Avery murmured to me just before the patio door. My arm was still firmly around her shoulders. I didn’t think she’d keep trying to help during dinner, but I couldn’t be sure, and besides, we looked like a great couple with my arm around her. Picture-perfect. She was wearing perfume tonight, something light and citrusy, oranges maybe, with a spicy note I couldn’t identify.

“Div will hire a planner to put it together,” I promised. “We don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Okay,” she yielded, frowning. “But what about the money part?”

I should have known she would ask about this. “What about it?”

“We haven’t discussed the budget.”

“That’s because it’s none of your business.”

She snorted. “Um, it kind of is my business since I’m involved. How much do I owe you?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.”

She made a face. “Emmett.”

“Adams. You’re not paying for it.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No.” I gave her a firm look. My firmest, sternest look. “You aren’t. Look, Adams, I don’t know if you’ve figured this out, but I have lots of money. Who am I going to spend it on, my brothers? My parents? I already do that. My mom has all the damn antique teapots she likes. No one could drink that much tea. I have a nice house, I have a nice car, I have everything I need. I’m set. The wedding money is going straight back into the local vendors of the town. Besides,” I said, swallowing. “It’s for the election, so it’s money well spent.”

She stared into my eyes. Our faces were only a foot apart. “I don’t like this.”

“Tough shit, baby. Come on, let’s eat.” I ignored the way her mouth fell open and pulled her inside. I guess Avery didn’t get a lot of tough shit, babys, and that made me grin. We took a seat at the table.

The caterer had added a few tables to mine so the group of thirty could sit comfortably, and my home was filled with lively conversation as the food was served. Those stupid pictures from the turtle jail circulated, and laughter rippled through the room as people saw them. At least my guests were having a good time. Avery was chatting with Hannah and a friend of mine from the town council, engrossed in a conversation about rare books. It was nice to see her relax like this.

I caught the server’s attention. “Could she please have another?” I asked, handing him Avery’s empty drink. A few minutes later, a replacement drink arrived, and Avery reached out and took a sip.

“Thanks,” she whispered to me, hand coming to my arm.

Something pinged in my chest, like a guitar string. I liked when she touched me like that, something small, not sexual but just affectionate. I could feel a little hit of pleasure in my bloodstream when her skin made contact with mine. I wasn’t usually like this with women. I didn’t like women like this. But I was beginning to like Avery, which was a good thing, because we were stuck in this thing for another month at least.

“No problem,” I replied under my breath, and she smiled and pulled her hand back to her lap.

When everyone was finished eating and the plates were cleared, my dad raised his glass.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he said. The table quieted down and everyone turned to Sam. “Avery,” he began, smiling warmly at her, the only way he knew how, “we hardly know you, but damn, we sure like you.”

There was a rush of awwws. Avery grinned into her lap beside me and on its own, my arm came up around her shoulders again.

“You make Emmett a happy, happy man.” Sam lifted his glass. “Welcome to the family. To Avery and Emmett.”

“To Avery and Emmett,” everyone chorused, and around the table, glasses clinked.

Avery and I locked gazes as we clinked our glasses together. There was something in our gaze—camaraderie. We had set our weapons aside for a brief moment and we were in this together, this huge lie for the greater good. My gaze skimmed over her pretty face, her big blue eyes, and the freckles sprinkled over her nose.

“Now kiss,” Wyatt called.

“Kiss, kiss!” others echoed.

Avery’s eyes widened and the corners of her mouth hitched. My gaze fell to her lips and then to the dip of her neckline and that soft cleavage before I ripped my gaze back up to her mouth. A flash of what I had felt when I opened the door that afternoon rocked through me. I frowned.

This was my chance. My do-over. Third time’s the charm.

My hand came to the back of her head, I pulled her toward me, and I kissed her.

Soft. That was the first thing I noticed. Her mouth, her hair, her hands on the front of my shirt, soft. Light. Delicate and gentle, all of it. My other hand came to the part where her neck met her shoulder and brushed the skin. She shivered beneath my hands and mouth. My fingers tangled into her hair, grabbed a fistful, and gently tilted her head back, giving me better access to that sweet, pliant mouth. I slid my tongue into her, tasted her, and need rolled through me.

Jesus Christ. This was so, so much better than that chaste kiss at our proposal. It should have been like this. My tongue swept over hers and a tiny noise escaped her throat. That noise sent every blood cell straight to my cock and I was a teenager again, popping boners over a kiss. One of her hands came to my thigh, her nails digging into me, making me harder. I groaned into her mouth. I was enveloped in her scent, a mix of shampoo and that spicy orange perfume of hers.

Someone cleared their throat, and we froze.

Everyone stared at us with various degrees of wide-eyed shock.

She let go of my shirt, her mouth detached from mine, and I pulled my hands from her hair and neck. She shifted back into her chair, face reddening. I was more concerned with hiding the rock-hard display of affection in my lap.

Wyatt raised his eyebrows at me, grinning. “Nice,” he said, and Holden elbowed him.

“Okaaaay, guess we don’t have to worry too much about not being grandparents,” my dad joked, and the guests laughed.

The caterers brought out the cake. It said Congratulations, Avery and Emmett! on it.

“You’ve been practicing without me, Adams,” I murmured in her ear.

She cleared her throat, and I took a long slug of my beer. My skin was on fire. I was still hard, sitting here in a room with my closest friends and family. I couldn’t stop replaying that little moan of hers, the way it felt under my hands as it hummed through her, the way it felt in my mouth.

I originally wanted a do-over because our first couple of kisses were so terrible. Chaste and quick and bland. But that kiss tonight? It wasn’t chaste and it wasn’t bland. It was too quick, though, and I wanted more. I wanted another try. I craved her mouth on mine again, as if I’d had one bite of something and wanted the entire plate.

I had to hear that little moan again.