“I’m sure.” Parker gives me a look, the same one he is always giving me when he wants to tell me I’m being stupid. “So why did you agree to this?”
“I told you. I’m tired of Gran always—”
“Try again.”
I narrow my eyes, taking a bite of my naked Twix cookie （it really is the best part, and it is my life’s mission to find this cookie out in the wild with no toppings） and chewing it slowly. “I don’t know,” I admit finally. “I did sort of step in this myself. After all, I’m the one who approached him first, remember? The whole scenting bit sounds like a necessary evil too. I mean, apparently, one little cuddle with Noah, and all the other shifters will steer clear!”
Parker rolls his eyes. “Because that’s not going to be awkward.”
“Whatever. It’s no big deal. And I don’t know. If I’m being completely honest? The guy seemed pretty desperate. He might be an asshole, but he’s a good doctor. It’s bullshit that they would try to take his job when he’s never given them a real reason to.”
“Aren’t we the white knight? Since when do we care about helping out Noah Taylor? He’s not just an asshole, Mack. He might be a demon. Did you hear about the time he tripped that CNA and broke her nose?”
“I haven’t actually heard that version, but I’m told that the whole thing was ‘grossly overexaggerated.’？”
“That’s what he wants us to think,” Parker mutters.
“It’s going to be fine.” I take another bite, nodding to the air. “Totally fine.”
Parker scoffs. “I’ll take Famous Last Words for two hundred, Alex.”
I lick my fingers, still nodding idly as I begin to pick at the second candy bar, assuring myself that this will be fine. I mean, it’s just a few lies and a fake relationship. Nothing bad ever came from that.
* * *
?Another thing that I can count on one hand is the number of times I have naturally run into Noah Taylor at work—this afternoon’s meeting of our new supersecret power-couple duo included—so I am surprised to see him twice in a day, especially at the end of a twelve-hour shift when people are beginning to get out for the morning. He looks surprised, pausing from blowing warmth into his hands under the awning as I step through the automatic glass doors while still shrugging into my coat. The wind ruffles his dark hair so that it whips around his face, and the lamplight casting down on him from the doors makes his eyes seem darker than they are as they regard me. I notice again how big Noah is. Has he always been this tall? Have I simply not noticed because I always avert my eyes when I pass him in the hall? He has to be at least eight inches taller than me, and I’m not exactly short at five foot seven.
“Dr. Carter?”
I stop gawking at him, my mouth quirking. “Is that any way to address your mate?”
“Oh.” He makes a face. “Right. Good call . . . Mackenzie.”
I laugh as I start to wind my scarf around my neck. “You’re going to have a real tough time with this, aren’t you?”
“I am admittedly not used to having to be so . . . aware of another person.”
“Wow.” I know he isn’t trying to be funny, the concept of all this is surely alien to him, but damn if he isn’t striking me as amusing with how utterly sincere he seems to be. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“It’ll be fine,” he says stoically. “Although, we should set a meeting soon. If we’re going to pull this off, we’re going to have to learn to be more familiar with each other.”
I pretend to be aghast. “You could at least buy me dinner first before you jump right into: learning to be familiar with each other.”
Noah sighs, his breath coming out in a cloud in the cold September air as he shakes his head, looking exhausted. “I am happy that you are finding this so amusing, but right now I need a shower and a bed, and then I need to forget this day. We can regroup tomorrow. I can make lunch reservations, if you’re free?”
“Let me think.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, mentally going over my schedule. “I have work through Friday. What about Saturday? I have yoga at eleven, but we can catch a late lunch?”
“Yoga?”
“Yes. It’s a great stress reliever. Maybe you should try it sometime. I hear it’s hard to perform open-heart surgery on yourself.”
“I’ll pass,” he answers. “Saturday is fine. I have surgery that afternoon, but it isn’t until four, so I’m free before that.” He checks his watch. “So, I suppose we should exchange numbers, and then we can . . . go from there?”