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One Week With The Best Man
One Week With The Best Man
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One Week With The Best Man

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“You’re telling me everyone in Hollywood is secretly ugly, so I shouldn’t feel bad.”

He smirked and leaned in to drive home his point. “I’m saying you’re an attractive woman—a realistically attractive woman. You shouldn’t put yourself through the wringer comparing yourself to an unrealistic ideal. It’s all fake.”

Gretchen’s brows went up in surprise. Even with her makeover, she felt as if Julian were only tolerating her because he couldn’t get out of the arrangement. Could he actually believe what he said, or was he just trying to boost her ego enough to get them through this week together?

“Everything about me is fake, too,” he said.

It was easy to believe the women he’d spoken about were painted to perfection, but everything on Julian looked pretty darn real to her. “Come on,” she chided, pulling her hand from his. She knew he was putting her on now.

“No, I’m serious. These baby blue eyes are colored contacts. The highlights in my hair are fake. My teeth are porcelain veneers because my parents couldn’t afford braces when I was younger. My tan is sprayed on weekly. Even my accent is fake.”

“You don’t have an accent,” she argued.

“Exactly. I’m from Kentucky,” he said with an unmistakable twang he’d suppressed earlier. “I have an accent, but you’re never going to hear it from me because I hide it like everything else.”

Gretchen sat back against the cushions of the couch and tried to absorb everything he was telling her. It was a lot to take in all at once.

“We may all have fake hair and wear makeup and put ourselves through all sorts of abuses to chase the elusive beauty and youth, but we’re all actors. This is just our costume. So think of your new makeover as your costume. You’ve been given all the tools you need. Are you ready to play the role of Julian Cooper’s girlfriend?”

She took a deep breath and straightened up in her seat. “I think so.”

He cocked his head to the side and lifted a brow at her in challenge.

“I am,” she corrected with faux confidence in her voice. “Let’s do this. Where do we start?”

Julian smiled and turned to face her on the couch. “Okay. When I was in acting school, one of my professors was adamant about throwing the hardest scenes at us first. He didn’t let us warm up or start with a less challenging part. We had to open with the dramatic soliloquy. His theory was that once you did that, everything else would come easier. So we’re going to start with the hardest part of your role.”

Gretchen tensed beside him. The hardest part? It all seemed pretty challenging. She’d be much happier working her way up to the comfort level she needed to pull this off. “How are you—”

He lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers, stealing the question from her lips. Unlike their quick, passionless pecks at the restaurant the night before, this kiss packed a punch. Julian leaned into her, coaxing her mouth open and probing her with his tongue.

She wanted to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. One of his hands was at her waist and the other on her shoulder, keeping her from retreating. Closing her eyes, she remembered she was an actress playing a part. She stopped fighting it and tried to relax. Maybe she could let herself enjoy it for once.

When her tongue tentatively grazed along his, he moaned low against her mouth. The sound sent a shock wave of need through her body making her extremities tingle. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. When she’d relaxed against him, his grip on her lessened and his hands became softer and exploratory. They slid across the silky fabric of her dress, finally coming to rest as they wrapped around her waist.

Just when Gretchen had relaxed into his arms and was enjoying their experimental kiss, she felt him tug hard against her. Mercy, but he was strong. Those muscles weren’t just for show. The next thing she knew, she was in Julian’s lap, straddling him. Her dress rode up high on her thighs and she could feel the warm press of his arousal against her leg.

She almost didn’t believe it at first. Gretchen hadn’t felt many erections in her time. She hadn’t anticipated feeling one here, for sure. Could Julian really be turned on by their kiss, or was he just a very convincing actor? The concerning question startled her enough to make her break away from the kiss. The second her eyes opened, she regretted it. In the moment, things had felt right. Exhilarating and scary, but right. Once she pulled away, all she could do was look awkwardly at the man in whose lap she was sitting. It was a decidedly unladylike and bold place to be, and she wasn’t comfortable with either of those adjectives. She could feel the heat in her chest and throat and knew she was blushing crimson in her predicament.


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