Chapter 5

Dane had survived the wedding ceremony by staying away from Lilith as much as possible and keeping his mouth shut. Then they’d reached the end, and what should have been a simple kiss exploded the second Lilith had put her palms on his face.

That kiss had slayed him.

And he’d have sworn he had fully prepared to kiss the woman he’d had such a huge crush on for so long. He’d have sworn all his feelings for her had died that day on the gym floor. Except it didn’t seem like they had.

Fortunately, the camera crew had wrapped up the wedding scene pretty quickly, and they all went their separate ways. It was best if he didn’t think about how he might be in a lot of trouble with this marriage.

He’d dated a few women here and there, mostly quiet, mousy ones before his transformation, and afterward, aggressive types that didn’t take no for an answer. As long as they didn’t expect too much from him, he went along and tried not to talk. Getting comfortable was a sure way to blurt out something incriminating like how he’d just started a new quest in Rift and he was having a hard time finding guys at his level to game with. That was not mixed company conversation.

Of course, not talking wasn’t a doable plan once he was living with Lilith, which was happening momentarily. As in now. The wedding had been two days ago, but he hadn’t seen her since. That would change in a flash and he still didn’t think he’d fully recovered from that kiss. But he parked his Audi in the spot assigned to him by management anyway and stepped into the elevator in the underground parking garage, pushing the button for the third floor.

The condo building Lilith lived in had a trendy, urban vibe that he liked. It was easy to get around, and you really didn’t have to go far to eat or get coffee, a plus when filming a TV show. People were friendly, nodding to him as they joined him in his upward journey.

And then somehow he ended up in front of number 347. The place where he would live with Lilith. He was going to be living with Lilith. Eugene Danehart Long had married Lilith Parker in a ceremony that had certainly felt pretty real, he’d kissed the bride with a fair amount of skill (no shock when he’d been practicing in his head for over a decade) and no one had figured out he was a giant fake.

Success. It was all downhill from here.

Except that was the moment when Lilith swung open the door without warning and crashed square into him. Automatically, he caught her before they both went down, thanks to the interminable, backbreaking CrossFit routine that had strengthened both his core and his arms.

“Easy,” he murmured, keeping his voice low on purpose to avoid the crack that sometimes happened when he got a little twisted up about what to say.

Like now. Because wow did she feel nice in his arms. She had this warmth he couldn’t seem to get enough of, and her body was so light that he could easily pick her up. He assumed anyway since he hadn’t actually tried that.

Maybe he should.

“Is this the part where I carry you over the threshold?” he asked, but she laughed, blinking up at him as if she had absolutely no intention of wiggling out of his embrace. Which worked for him and then some. “It’s a tradition. Maybe we should stick to the basics since this is new to both of us.”

Also an assumption. He really had no clue what Lilith had been up to for the big blank canvas that was her twenties. Possibly she could have gotten married and divorced six times by now and that’s why she’d sought out spouse number seven on a reality TV show.

That was when she stepped back, a little wobbly on her feet. Weak knees over her new husband’s manliness? He couldn’t even sell that to himself in his own head. His imagination might be his superpower, but that didn’t mean it was correct. Probably she needed to eat.

“On second thought,” she said with a wink. “You might save us both from hitting the deck if you do stick to the basics.”

What, like she was saying yes to the threshold deal? “You want me to do it? There aren’t even any cameras.”

“So?” She shrugged. “That makes it the perfect time to get the reality part of this thing settled. We’re married, for all intents and purposes. Let’s act like it.”

This was the first time he had an inkling that he might have to do any acting off camera. Here he’d been worried about how to handle it when the director yelled, “Action.” Yet in a shocking turn of events, the first time he’d be playing the part of Lilith’s husband, only two people were present.

But he couldn’t have stopped himself from sweeping her up in his arms. She was light and fragile. Like a piece of beautiful glass. Touch her the wrong way and she’d cut you deep. He had to remember that.

It took only three strides to carry her over the threshold, and more will than he’d like to admit to set her down. Her arms slid from around his neck and everything grew cool the moment her heat vanished. Idiot. He could have drawn that out somehow, swung her around, made a game out of it until he’d gotten his fill of holding her.

“That was perfect,” she said a little breathlessly. “Maybe we should practice it again. So it’ll look effortless for the cameras.”

“It was effortless. You weigh practically nothing,” he countered before it sank in that she’d offered up the perfect excuse to get her back in his arms all over again, and what was he doing? Arguing with her.

“Oh, well.” Her smile nearly knocked his own knees out from under him. If she kept that up, she’d be carrying him over the threshold. “Aren’t you sweet? You can say things like that all you want.”

He arched a brow. “Like what? That you weigh less than some of my computers? You act like I’m making it up, but I’m not just saying that.”

Lilith fanned her face as if she’d suddenly been infested with mosquitos that she needed to swat away. “You do know how to turn a girl’s head.”

“A first, if so,” he muttered and lost his place. Geez, would he ever get used to the way women reacted to his new candy coating? At least Lilith wasn’t looking at him like she wanted to lick him, which wasn’t the case when he gained an audience at the gym. That’s why he’d bought his own equipment and cancelled his membership. “Maybe we should focus on getting moved in. Do you need some help?”

“If you’re offering to carry lots of heavy boxes while I watch from a place with an unobstructed view, the answer is yes,” she said with a vigorous nod, her gaze stealing down the length of his arm. “You’re going to be wearing that T-shirt the whole time, right? Except maybe if it gets too hot?”

He blinked. Was she flirting with him? The camera crew wasn’t even scheduled to arrive for another few hours. They’d purposely given the newlyweds time to get their bedrooms organized since that part of the condo had a strict no-filming rule. The show pulled out all the stops to maintain the illusion that the couples were living in marital bliss but it was all a carefully constructed set up.

In other words, not real. She knew that. Didn’t she? First she was talking about pretending to be married off camera, and now…this. What was this, anyway? Was Lilith really and truly attracted to him?

They could act like the fake aspects of this situation gave them a free pass to do whatever, but the reality of what he’d orchestrated here crashed down on him. What if she fell for him in the course of this ridiculous TV show? That was what he’d planned to happen. But could he really pull the rug out from under her? Of course, she’d done it to him with no qualms and zero conscience. But he wasn’t like that. Not really.

But what exactly had he thought would happen? In order for her to get a taste of how it felt to be rejected by someone she cared about…she had to care about him. Otherwise, she might just laugh it off and shrug, no harm, no foul. He couldn’t live with himself if it was the former. And if it was the latter, the scheme fell apart.

This was a disaster.

Also, he was putting the cart way before the horse. His Achilles’ heel. Dane excelled at worst case scenario, best case scenario, all the scenarios in between, and even those that could only happen in a parallel universe. Those were his favorites. Clearly. Because only in a parallel universe could Lilith Parker ever care about anyone else’s feelings. She’d shown her true colors back in high school, pretending to be his friend and then cutting him dead at that dance as if he was no more than a bit of trash stuck to her shoe.

“I’ll carry as many boxes as you want,” he promised, letting a grin curve his mouth and got a reward in the form of Lilith’s answering grin.

He did like it when she smiled. He’d just focus on that and not on what came later. Everything would sort itself out.

Moving Lilith into their joint condo on the fourth floor took no time at all since she lived on the fourth floor of Vivo. He hadn’t brought much stuff with him, opting to leave most of his computers at home since he’d taken a month off from hacking. Hacking for profit anyway. He always kept a finger in various pies. Security protocol and subsequent threats changed lightning fast and not keeping up meant you were behind the eight ball when the next guy out of the Ukraine or Malaysia propagated another virus with a cutesy name like Jack-in-the-Box Unicorn Surprise.

Dane set his second fastest laptop on the desk in the living room. Probably he should move it to his bedroom, but he’d always carefully separated the place where he slept from electronics. When he was neck deep in a job, he often worked fourteen and sixteen hour stretches debugging code and when he needed to sleep, he needed a distraction free zone.

“That’s a sleek set up,” Lilith commented as she passed by with a laundry basket full of clothes.

Don’t look, he reminded himself. In case the basket contained Lilith’s filmy underwear. That was not a visual he needed at the moment.

“It’s Alienware,” he commented inanely, like that explained anything, and honestly, it would be better if he did not.

Of course she didn’t let that go. “I’ve never heard of that brand. What does it do?”

“It’s a gaming computer.”

Literally the last thing he should have said out loud, but he always answered direct questions because it would be rude not to. He’d make an excellent witness for the prosecution if he ever got called to testify. So far, no one had.

But instead of her eyes glazing over, she set her basket on the tile floor and sat down at the desk, running a finger along the edge of the deep red casing. “Show me. I’ve never seen a computer game.”

“Never? Like not even once?” This was how they reeled you in so they could find fodder to antagonize you. And he was falling for it. He should really keep his mouth shut…but come on.

She shook her head, shooting him a smile over her shoulder. “I don’t get much down time. Running your own business is hard work. Well, you know that, right? You freelance.”

He nodded and lifted the lid to power on the PC, which happened nearly instantaneously.

“Wow, that came up really fast,” she said with light admiration. “My computer at the spa takes like five minutes to stop all its thinking and actually show me a log in screen.”

“I’ll look at it for you.” Probably ancient technology and there’d be little he could do unless she happened to have a tower with a case he could break open. Unlikely. “You might have some adware I could clean out. That would help it boot faster.”

“You’re a handy guy to have around. Oh. That’s beautiful,” she commented as she caught sight of his wallpaper, a still shot of Rivendell, which he did not immediately blurt out because that would lead to a very short discussion about exactly how geeky he was, and then the jig would be up.

“I like the waterfalls,” he said instead. And they could drop this subject any time. Why had he opened this can of worms, exactly?

“Me too. It looks like the kind of place where fairies live.”

Elves, actually. But close enough that he bit back the correction because in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter. She liked the picture. Moving on. “I use this computer to play Rift.”

He opened the game and took the excuse to check in on his stuff without really diving into game play, which could take hours of his time. But he’d pretty much decided he’d have to start over on his current quest after the show because the producers wanted drama, not hours of footage of him on a computer.

“As in you have more than one computer?” she asked. Because of course she’d clue in on his phrasing.

“Sure. I have—” Nine. He couldn’t admit that. “Several. Because I have to keep my work ones separate for security reasons. If I screw up and let a virus loose, I can’t have it infect my entire network.”

Stop talking. Way too much information. This was the kind of stuff people internalized and then spit back out later to make fun of him.

But she just nodded and glanced up at him over her shoulder, biting her lip. “You’re one of those really smart guys, aren’t you? I have to confess I feel a little out of my league here.”

“What? No.” Alarmed that she’d taken the exact wrong idea from this tiny window into his brain, he swiveled her chair to face him. That was a mistake. Her thigh snugged up next to his and the contact sang through his body. “I mean, you just don’t know anything about computers and networks and how they all hook together. But anyone can learn. It’s not that hard to understand.”

“For you, maybe.” She laughed and waved that off. “I’m good with what I need to know to remove hair from unwanted places and release tension in someone’s back, but otherwise, I’m pretty boring. Your stuff is fascinating.”

Sure. He was totally falling for that. But he spent a few minutes showing her Rift instead of slamming the laptop lid shut like he should. Except she asked really great questions and smelled like something he could eat, so there was really no downside.

Especially the part where his insides hummed on high awareness as he leaned over her to tap the keyboard. She didn’t do a whole lot to get out of his way either, sometimes leaning back to let their shoulders brush in what could easily be construed as deliberate. He pretended not to notice even as he breathed her in.

The camera crew interrupted their little interlude, and he made a snap decision to move the laptop to his bedroom where it wouldn’t be a focal point. All at once, he didn’t want to share a drop of his real life with the camera.

But he’d shared it with Lilith. It sat just under his skin like a cocklebur he couldn’t remove. Why had he done that? It was just fodder for humiliation later on down the line. Except he couldn’t quite make those pieces fit together in his head. She’d been genuine and engaged as they’d talked. Surely she couldn’t fake interest in something that well.

Well, obviously she could. She’d faked interest in him in high school well enough to break his heart, and this whole marriage was a sham designed to get max drama for the cameras. Everything about them, then and now, was fake. When would he learn?