Page 5 of Fake Autumn Crush

Half an hour? To get ready for the most important "not really a date" of my life?

I've barely tied the belt on my robe and had a few sips of water when the front door buzzes. It's a delivery guy with a large box.

I tear it open on the kitchen counter, not believing my eyes. Three shirts from an elegant French boutique downtown, the name of which I can't even pronounce. Two casual cardigans with black leather collars and cuffs from an indie designer Sam worked with last winter. Two gorgeous patterned silk scarves. Everything is in various shades of blue.

There's a note that reads, "Hopefully this will go with comfortable jeans and walking boots.”

My hands begin to shake. His breakout hit was called "I Love Women in Blue."

I quickly shower, scrunch my hair half dry, and select a sky-blue shirt that pairs with a cornflower blue sweater. One of the scarves looks adorable knotted around the shoulder strap of my black purse. Luckily, I have dark well-worn jeans and chunky but flat black boots. A bit of brown eyeshadow makes my eyes seem more blue than gray, and mascara plus a touch of berry-tinted lip balm adds a little polish. Hopefully I look breezy and casual. Like someone Sam might date.

This is part of your job, I chant to myself as I hurry out the door. Just a job. Just⁠—

My heart almost stops when I take in the unbelievable sight of Sam Silverton leaning casually on a gorgeous, bright metallic blue convertible Corvette Stingray. Although honestly, I barely notice the car. Just his huge frame looking relaxed. Pantherlike.

He grins. “Morning, angel face. I think I just saw your eyes light up."

"This is the fun car?" I laugh, even though I'm mentally spiraling. Everyone in the city is going to notice us in this vehicle.

"Nothing but the best for my girl." He approaches me cautiously, then drops his voice. "I should've asked last night: is hugging okay? And holding your hand? I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but it would help sell this…thing."

I'm nodding, my brain suddenly tuned to static. "Yeah, fine," I mumble.

My pulse forgets any concept of rhythm as his thick arms surround me. This isn't a quick hug hello, but a genuine cuddle. As I inhale his masculine scent laced with hints of vanilla and cedar, my hands run up his back, pressing firmly against his dark gray shirt. That, paired with his slightly tattered black jeans and black motorcycle boots, makes him look every inch the rock star.

"You look gorgeous," he whispers in my ear. "Thank you so much for doing this. Please tell Natalie it was a really genius idea."

I reluctantly pull away from his embrace. "Actually, I thought of it," I whisper. "But I figured we would hire somebody, or maybe you had a female friend who’d do it."

His brown eyes are so deep and warm. I swear, it looks as if he's trying to read my mind. "Then you are the genius. And thanks for doing this.” He scans me from head to toe. “You’re stunning in brighter blues. They turn your eyes blue as well, although I also love the stormy gray they were last night.”

He steps away, and I see two girls in their late teens staring at us from across the street.

What would a real date do?

They won't be able to hear what I'm saying, but they might pick up the tone. I poke his chest with my index finger, then down his bicep. "You’re a lot bigger than the last time I saw you," I murmur. “You've been working out like crazy, haven't you?"

He chuckles, his eyes flicking toward the girls before opening the car door for me. "Yeah. But not for photo shoots. I need to clear my mind completely before I go into songwriting mode. I'm too antsy to meditate. Working out until I can't think straight is as close as I'm going to get."

I notice that one of the girls takes a few photos as Sam is getting into the car. I’m not sure if I’ll show up in them or not, but I’m going to have to get over that.

I appreciate that he drives very calmly, even though this is a brand-new sports car. I'm also grateful that he chats easily about everything under the sun as we approach the farmer’s market.

It's packed with people, but we ignore the staring and whispering. He gets me flowers from a sweet older lady. We buy apples, raspberries, some walnut fudge brownies. Then we pack everything in the trunk and stroll to a nearby restaurant, where he has a reservation for a table on the patio.

Sam is clever. The table he’s requested is in full view of the main part of the street, but tucked away near the back so nobody can get close to us.

He positions me in the corner, then sits on my side of the table. "If anyone comes near us, you'll be sheltered," he murmurs. "I'm used to the photos and people trying to get close by now, but I'm going to protect you as much as possible, okay?"

Externally, I'm smiling politely and nodding. Internally, lust is stirring up my emotions, and possibly my internal organs. Sam is beyond hot, but what's really driving me crazy is his caring nature and thoughtfulness. He thinks of every detail.

He's not just a pretty face. He’s the kind of intelligent, evolved man that I've dreamed of finding one day, even though he's completely unattainable.

Also, I would bet my bottom dollar that he knows how to work a washing machine.

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SAM