Faked (Ward Family #2)(29)

"That couch looks comfy."

I glanced back at her, caught the smirk on her face, and shook my head. "You trying to tell me something?"

The moment we walked in the room, I knew I'd be spending the night on that damn couch covered with a horrible, horrible floral pattern. It would be small and uncomfortable, and I'd do it, because as much as I wanted to kiss Claire, do all manner of things, if she was amenable, I'd never forced my attentions on a woman, and I sure as hell wouldn't be starting with this one.

Besides, I'd caught the look in her sister-in-law's eyes when she told me she'd destroy me, and I abso-friggin-lutely believed her.

Claire didn't answer me because she probably knew all of the things I was thinking.

"At least give me one of the good pillows," I told her. Holding up the small one from the couch, one of those weird pointless ones shaped like a hot dog, I tossed it in her direction. "Because I am not using that."

She caught the pillow with a smile and climbed up onto the gargantuan bed. "I think I can manage that since he's given me, oh, let's see ... fourteen on this one."

I looked away so that she didn't catch me checking out her ass, but come on, she was on all fours on a bed, and I was already struggling to keep my hands off her. That was why the pillow hit me in the side of the head.

Her peals of laughter were so damn adorable, I'd probably let her throw a concrete block at my head if I could hear them all night.

"Shit," I muttered. I was in trouble with this one, and I knew exactly why. My lifestyle didn't lend itself to being around women like Claire. Don't get me wrong, I had friends who were girls in Whistler. Snowboarding chicks were strong and badass, and I counted plenty of them as friends. I'd never slept with any of my fellow competitors, just the snow bunnies. The visitors to the mountain who had no trouble with the bartender for a night.

But Claire was different.

Smart, sweet, no-nonsense, and way, way too good for me. Claire checked every box on the hypothetical list that I never paid too much attention to in my head—the Keeper list, which is why it wasn't hard for me to pretend with her for one night.

Looking down at the couch, I tried to figure out a way to convince Richard that he needed a full-week immersion into learning about the community center because I'd gladly give up seven nights of sleep to that embroidered nightmare if I got more time with Claire.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Claire said.

The housekeeper popped her head in. "Dinner will be served in about fifteen minutes if you'd like to join the rest of the party downstairs."

"We'll be right down," I told her.

After the door closed, Claire flopped back on the bed and covered her face with her hands. "This is insane."

"You know what's insane? You could fit fifteen of you in that bed and there'd still be room."

She sat up, and her hair, shiny and dark, slid out of its ponytail. "True. Which means I'll sleep very well tonight," she said primly.

I gestured to the door. "Let's go, princess. I know you're excited."

When she hopped off the bed, fixing her ponytail as she walked, my hand hovered over her back as we left the room. It wanted to fall to that curve, the one just at the hem of her shirt, but I tucked my arm back into my side.

My parents were waiting expectantly at a monstrosity of a formal dining table, the kind that could easily seat twelve people.

"Sweetie," Adele said in greeting, leaning in to kiss Claire's cheek. "Just be yourself," she whispered. "But, you know ... answer to Lia."

Claire gave her a weak smile. "Got it."

Richard joined us, handing Adele and my dad full glasses of wine. "What do you think of my humble abode?"

"It's astounding," I told him seriously. "I've never seen anything like it."

He puffed up like a peacock as Claire echoed the sentiment.

"I'd spend all my time here if I could," he said. "I feel like a king."

I nodded. "Understandable."

Adele gave me a warning look, and my dad swiped a hand over his mouth.

We sat for dinner, Claire to my right, and when she almost knocked over her water glass pulling her chair closer to the table, I laid a hand on her thigh and squeezed.

I gave her an encouraging smile, which she returned weakly.

Richard, from his gilded, ornate chair at the head of the table, caught the gesture and winked at us.

"So, Bauer, what's this nonsense about you losing your sponsorship? You were spectacular at your past few events."

Adele's face turned a pasty shade of white that I was the first up in Richard's eyes. I swallowed, giving the housekeeper a smile as she set some bread and soup in front of me and Claire.

"Oh, I don't know if that's enjoyable dinnertime conversation, sir."

It certainly wasn't for me because I'd be scrambling to regain any sort of competitive traction without a primary sponsor. Scotty was working on it, but this crowd was the last one I wanted to dissect it with. Especially in front of Adele.

"It's such a fickle career," Adele interjected. "So stressful for the whole family, really."

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Yes. I can't imagine how helpless you must feel. You can help all these kids who need you at the center, but your son is beyond your reach."