Free The Very Thought of You by Carolann Camillo

After I screwed up the ‘no wife’ bit, I wasn’t sure how to explain you.”
    â€œWas an explanation necessary?”
    â€œI thought you might think so.”
    â€œIn that case, you could have told him I was your sister.”
    He cocked his head, pressed his lips together, and frowned.
    â€œOkay, he wouldn’t believe we were related.”
    â€œNot even for a second.” His featured relaxed, and he shrugged and smiled.
    â€œWhy didn’t you say you were bringing a friend?”
    â€œListen, I didn’t have a lot of time to come up with anything creative. I thought it was important to protect you.”
    â€œReally? How?”
    â€œI didn’t want to give him the impression you were a … a shack up.”
    â€œA shack up?”
    â€œLook. Landlords aren’t stupid. They want to know how many people will occupy their units. Once he saw us, he’d assume we were both moving in. I thought you’d be more comfortable showing up with a man you’d only just met — me — if the guy thought we were married instead of … you know … living together. You having worked in social services and running a clinic, I wasn’t sure about your views on, eh, shacking up. So I said we’d just gotten back from the honeymoon, it was all so new I forgot for a second we were married.” Innocence flickered behind his eyes. His bottom lip curved down as if in apology.
    Molly leaned against the slots cut into the metal plate that protected the mailboxes. He was right about the shacking up part being a bad fit. Three boyfriends back, she’d almost been pressured into it. When she’d said no, the boyfriend took a hike.
    â€œMaybe I made a mistake. If the owner mentions anything, I’ll say he must have misunderstood.”
    â€œGreat, and then I’m left with being your shack up and getting leered at by some oily slumlord.”
    â€œLook, I’m sorry I goofed. But the guy wants to rent this apartment. He’ll know better than to leer. Why would you assume he’s a slumlord?”
    â€œWell, just look at this place.”
    Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “Would you rather wait in the car?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDon’t you trust me?”
    She let him glean the answer from her expression.
    â€œOkay. Lack of trust noted.” He checked his watch. “It’s your call. You better make it quick. Either we took a trip to the altar or we’ve slept together without the benefit of marriage.” Molly felt her eyes roll up in her head. Any farther and there was a chance she could have examined her own brain. She groaned. “Maybe we should scratch this one.”
    â€œIt’s too late.”
    â€œWe could check out some of the possibilities I’ve come across.” She took a step toward the sidewalk.
    He grabbed her elbow and reeled her back in. “Are you always so stubborn?” Impatience flared in his eyes.
    â€œNo. Well, almost never.”
    â€œLook, don’t you think for, maybe, twenty minutes you could act married?”
    â€œYou mean to an almost perfect stranger?”
    He brushed a corkscrew curl off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t consider myself a stranger. Or perfect.”
    That was for sure.
    His impatience died under a self-effacing grin.
    â€œI’m anything but an accomplished actress. In third grade, I played a gumdrop in the class production of Hansel and Gretel.”
    He braced his hand against the wall directly above her shoulder and leaned in. “That doesn’t matter. I’ll take the lead.”
    â€œOh, you know how? Why? Are you married?”
    He shook his head. “No. Never came close. You?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou’ve considered it, though. Am I right?”
    Molly frowned and shook her head. What did he care if she’d had one foot at the marriage altar?
    He let go of the wall and took