An Honorable Man

She didn’t want to walk in the gorgeous weather with Roark. She wanted to conclude their business and get away from him, because already she was feeling that familiar lethargy steal over her, that urge to open up, to trust him.

“So,” he said as they exited the coffee shop, “I’m guessing you really, really need a fake boyfriend to get your mother off your back.” He raised a single eyebrow at her. “Unless you’ve decided I’m not such a bad guy after all and maybe you want to get to know me better.”

She quickened her step, striding down the sidewalk on Seventh Street. She did want to know him better. On the surface there was nothing wrong with him. He was smart and dedicated to his work and he’d helped her out of a jam when she’d had those two flat tires. But Cory had looked pretty good on the surface—and deeper, too.

How could she tell if Roark was all that he appeared to be?

“I need a fake boyfriend,” she said.

He matched her stride, managing to do so without seeming to hurry. “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s just one date. To my cousin’s bridesmaids’ dinner. It’s at the Mansion.” As if the bribe of a fancy dinner would hold sway with him. “It’s next Friday. I realize it’s short notice, but…”

He swore softly. “I can’t make it then. I’m speaking at a conference out of town. Sorry, Priscilla.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. “You could come to the wedding, but that’s probably more of an ordeal than you bargained for.” She paused to look in the window of an antiques shop.

They had slowed, Priscilla noticed. Now they were just strolling along like any couple. An older woman passed them and smiled insipidly, and Priscilla wondered what she was thinking. Young couple in love?

“Are you close to your cousin?” Roark asked.

“We used to be like sisters.”

“Used to be?”

“She kind of dumped me in high school, when I had some sticky problems she didn’t want to deal with.”

“How rude. What kind of problems?”

“Oh, you know, teenage rebellion.” Which involved a stint of hanging out with a bad crowd just for the shock value. She couldn’t really blame Marisa for keeping her distance.

Roark clearly wasn’t satisfied with her dismissive answer, but he didn’t push.

How did Roark do this, anyway? Ten minutes in his presence, and she was blurting out embarrassing personal things.

“So when is the wedding?” he asked. “I don’t mind weddings.”

“November second.” She half hoped he’d be busy then, too. But he checked his BlackBerry and confirmed he was free.

“I have to be at the church two hours early, so you can meet me there.”

“Nonsense. What kind of a lousy boyfriend would I be if I didn’t pick you up? We want your mother to think I’m a gentleman, right?”

“All right, but you’re going to be bored.”

“I doubt that.”

The blatant interest in his gaze alarmed her. “Roark, this is pretend, right? I mean, you’re not doing this because you want to continue…go back to…I mean—” She stared hard through the window of an art gallery at an ugly ceramic bowl.

“Yes, I want to do those things. Continue where we left off, go back to when we were involved.”

“But that’s not why I asked you to help.”

“I know that. I’m planning to change your mind.”

“No. You can’t do that.”

“I can’t?” He gave her a challenging look, his hand still on her arm.

She pulled away. “No, you can’t. Roark, you have to promise me you won’t try to, you know…”

“Win you over?” His sexy mouth cocked into a half smile.

“Seduce me.”

Roark had the nerve to laugh. “You can’t tell me you’re that vulnerable to my wicked ways.”

“Actually, yes, damn it, I am. You’re impossible to resist. I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to stay single, but I can only guess it’s because you’re a player, and that is the last type of person I need in my life.”

To her surprise, Roark looked contrite. “All right. I’ll try to behave myself.”

“You can’t touch me.”

“Aren’t you trying to convince people we’re an item?”

“All I need is a warm, suitably male body at my side. If you give me besotted looks every now and then, so much the better, but no further acting is required.”

“You mean like this?” And he did a pretty good imitation of a basset hound yearning for a bone.

Somehow he made her laugh, and her anxiety receded. “Maybe not quite that besotted.” They worked out a few more details, and the deal was struck. Roark would provide the services of one fake boyfriend. But Priscilla couldn’t help wondering what she would end up giving in return.

IT WAS LUNCHTIME ON the C shift at Fire Station 59, and Priscilla was in charge. She had practiced the vegetable lasagna at home and it had come out tasting really good. So she’d asked Captain Campeon to give her another chance in the kitchen.

She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her, except that her previous gastronomical disasters were just one more thing that set her apart from the guys—all of whom seemed to know their way around a kitchen. Even Ethan and Tony, who hadn’t started out particularly gifted, had caught on.

As the guys ambled in to the large eat-in kitchen, grumbling about the possible culinary torture Priscilla would subject them to, she pulled a large casserole dish out of the oven and set it down on the long table.

“Be afraid. Be very afraid.” The comment came from Otis.

“What is that stuff?” Tony asked suspiciously. “It looks weird.” Ethan elbowed him, and Tony quickly added, “But it smells good and I’m sure it’s delicious.”

She gave him a smile for his loyalty. Tony and Ethan had often been the only ones to take her side during training and those first few weeks here at Station 59, when she was subject to attack from guys who objected to women firefighters in general and her in particular.

“It’s vegetable lasagna,” Priscilla announced with a flourish.

For her trouble, she got groans all around.

“God save us from women trying to make us eat healthy,” said Bing Tate, who was one of the most annoying men Priscilla had ever known. Though most of the other guys grudgingly had come to accept the rookies, Bing continued to make caustic comments at every opportunity—especially if the captain wasn’t within earshot. And he wasn’t at the moment.