Here. At her parents’ house. With her family. Wearing—was that her mother’s apron? Sophia blinked hard, twice, but when she opened her eyes, Jake still stood mere inches away, his expression serious despite the frilly white apron covered by pink potbellied pigs. She was dreaming. Her foolish, foolish wish of having Jake accompany her to her parents’ house had slipped into her subconscious, where she was too vulnerable to keep the ridiculous hope at bay. That was the only possible explanation. She was still asleep at some by-the-highway hotel, her face smashed into a cheap pillow, having a doozy of a nightmare. The breeze carried the scent of charcoal and the sounds of her family’s greetings, but none of it was real. Jake even looked as he always did in her dreams—too tempting for her peace of mind and too good to be true, she thought, her hungry gaze taking in rugged features that had become breathtakingly familiar in such a short time. The setting sun burnished his brown hair, bringing out the highlights in the slightly shaggy strands, and turning his skin to gold.
What do You think about Her Fill-In Fiancé (2011)?
