Page 29 of Faking it with my Bad Boy Crush

"I can have the motion drafted by this afternoon. We'll need to file it with the county court, which means a trip to Friday Harbor tomorrow." I paused. "But there's something else. If my firm facilitated this fraud—if we knew about the falsified survey andused it anyway—that's a massive ethics violation. I need to find out how deep this goes."

"What would that mean for you?”" Maya's voice was careful, neutral.

“I don’t know exactly. Since the firm representing Hutchins is connected to my investment group, if they knowingly used fraudulent evidence..." I ran my hand through my hair, the implications making my stomach turn. "I need to make some calls."

Maya reached out, her hand landing on my forearm. The touch was light, brief, but I felt it like electricity. "Thank you. For caring enough to look this hard. Even if it could hurt you.”

"It's not about caring," I said automatically. "It's about doing the job right."

Her eyes searched mine, and I had the uncomfortable feeling she could see straight through the lie. "Is it?"

Before I could answer, she pulled her hand back and returned to the croissant dough she'd been working on. "You should probably help me finish these if you're going to keep showing up at dawn. People will wonder what we're doing back here."

"Right. The arrangement." I moved to wash my hands, grateful for the excuse to look away from her too-perceptive gaze. "Can't have people thinking we're not actually dating."

"Can't have that," Maya agreed, but her voice was odd—almost disappointed.

We worked in silence for several minutes, the rhythm of laminating dough creating a strange kind of intimacy. I watched her hands move with practiced precision, shaping butter and dough into layers that would become something beautiful. There was artistry in it, a mastery that took years to develop.

"Where did you learn this?" I asked. "The specific techniques? It’s not how your grandfather did it.”

"That year in Portugal at Pastéis de Belém. It was after I finished at the CIA." Her hands never stopped moving. "My grandfather saved for years to send me. He wanted me to learn from the masters, to understand where our recipes came from."

"That's where you got your food philosophy? Traditional technique with modern refinement?"

She glanced up, surprised. “Are you…quoting my website?”

"I researched you, remember?" I said, then wondered why I kept bringing this up. "For the arrangement."

"Right. The arrangement." She returned to the dough, but something had closed off in her expression. "You should probably stop researching me, though. It's starting to feel less like business and more like actual interest."

The words hit harder than they should have. "Would that be a problem?"

"Yes." Her voice was firm. "Because actual interest wasn't part of the deal, remember? No real feelings. Strictly professional."

"Strictly professional," I repeated, and tried to ignore the part of me that wanted to argue.

We finished the croissants just as Tessa arrived at 7 AM, her purple-tipped hair wild from the morning wind. She took one look at us working side by side in the kitchen and grinned.

"Well, well. Someone's taking the fake dating very seriously." She grabbed an apron from the hook. "Morning prep together? That's either really committed to the bit, or you two are bad at keeping boundaries."

"We're working on Maya's legal case," I said evenly.

"Sure, you are." Tessa's grin widened. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

Maya shot her a warning look. "Tessa."

"What? I'm just saying, if you're going to fake date someone, you might as well enjoy the perks. Like having him show up at dawn with coffee and help you bake." She grabbed the coffee cups—mine and Maya's, both half-finished on the counter. "These are from the good coffee place. The expensive one tourists use. Not the cheap one us locals go to."

"It was closer to my hotel," I said, which was a lie. I'd driven past three coffee shops to get to the expensive one because I'd wanted Maya to have good coffee.

"Uh-huh." Tessa's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You're very dedicated to this fake relationship, Mr. Caldwell. Some might say suspiciously dedicated."

"I'm thorough." I wiped flour from my hands with a dish towel. "It's how I approach everything."

"Everything?" Tessa's eyebrow rose. "Interesting word choice."

Maya groaned. "Can you two not do this before I've finished my coffee? Tessa, the morning prep list is on the counter. Ethan, you should probably—"