Page 36 of Fake It Till You Make It

“Ah, I’ll help.”

“Uh, okay. Yes.” Amarie offered her hand. “Yes, thank you.”

Instead, Eli planted one hand on each side of her waist and lifted her off her lavender NOBULL adjustable slides with rose-gold buckles.

“Uh, oh, okay, a nice display of upper body strength and er, ah, raw masculine power. Didn’t see that coming. It’s impressive—”

Too much. Too soon, Amarie. Her father called her a handful. Which Eli seemed to lift without a single sign of overexertion. Maybe he enjoyed handling curvy packages? Hmm, handfuls, mouthfuls. Briefly, her gaze dropped to his mouth. Mistake. Quickly she directed her attention up. He was watching her.

Eli met her eyes. “You’re being weird again.”

“I just remembered something,” Amarie said.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t like you.”

“But you’ll take my money?” His lips lifted into a lopsided grin which looked more attractive up close. In fact,she inhaled. He smelled… nice. Mountain air and fresh pine. “That makes us partners.”

“Not really. Only that I’ll act as yours. And you should’ve asked me first. I don’t like men assuming they know what’s best for me. I make my own decisions.”

He frowned, those thick, dark brows drawing together like a little caterpillar. No, that wasn’t right. Eli was too big for insect metaphors. His brows, rich in color above long dark lashes, looked mink-y. Yeah, that description rang with more accuracy. She noticed other things—like his strong nose, and full mouth. Amarie angled her head and her gaze fixed on his corded forearms and broad fingers with short-trimmed nails. Totally uncomfortable with her teenage girl ogling, she cleared her throat, swallowing her jitters.

“You were wrong to take my choice away.” There was a little breath-holding on her part. Ideally, he’d spit out whatever was on his mind before her oxygen-deprived brain rendered her unconscious. Would he fire her if she refused?

He nodded, took the seat belt, and buckled her in. “Fair enough, but I got nothing left to offer you, Amarie. The job, it’s yours. The money, it’s yours. Noticed you haven’t left Calvary land since you arrived. You’ve been living with us.”

“Leah invited—”

He held up a hand and pressed a finger to his lips. “No explanation needed. Momma’s happy. That’s what matters most to me. Now as partners, there should be shared risks and benefits. So, I’m willing to guarantee that if you help with the bachelor auction regardless of the final outcome, I’ll cover the deposit on a place of your own, the cost to fix the car, and pay you a bonus.”

“Eli, what if the auction falls short? You could lose the everything!”

“The way I see it, we both have something to win. Right, partner?”

Amarie had walked into her relationship with Russell with no guarantees. Quickly, she had learned he preferred the customer service version of Amarie, where his needs took priority over hers, her role centered on making his life better.

“Yes, we do.” Could she fake being Eli’s partner and build a foundation for the authentic woman she needed to be for herself? Heavens, she hoped so.

Chapter Ten

THEY EXITED THECalvary property and turned left. Quiet and efficient, Eli’s monster vehicle climbed the hill. An oval lake came into view, a picturesque steeple on the far bank with a four-post open gazebo. Amarie gasped at the serene beauty, her heart cresting and falling as they drove by.

“It’s even prettier in the fall when it’s wrapped in lights,” Eli whispered.

“I can imagine.” Amarie let her mind drift to a future where she surrounded herself with beauty, family… community. If—no, when—they earned the money from the auction, she would rent an apartment, or one of the single-story ranch houses she’d viewed from Main Street. Amarie Walker, resident of Service, West Virginia.Yeah, she thought. Sounded perfect for her new beginning.

They turned right at a bend in the road. Amarie felt an audible pop in her ears from the change in altitude. Down the mountain they went, the drive much longer than she’d appreciated when she’d walked across one of the shorter Cattail Creek bridges with Leah. Roads widened in this area, and she’d spotted replica gas-lamp posts that wouldlight the way in the darkness. Service had a shabby-chic elegance she liked.

“I answered your question about the clinic’s finances. It’s your turn to tell why you neglected to mention you lack transportation.”

“Honestly, you can’t help yourself,” she said, exasperated. “Do you see what you did? We were having a moment until you put a spoon in the peanut butter jar.”

Eli raised a brow, his forehead furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“You’re stuck. Get it… spoon in chunky butter. Let it go, Eli.”

“Not happening. So spill.”