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  Contents

  1. Erin

  2. Hudson

  3. Erin

  4. Hudson

  5. Erin

  6. Hudson

  7. Erin

  8. Hudson

  9. Erin

  10. Hudson

  11. Erin

  12. Hudson

  13. Erin

  14. Hudson

  Epilogue

  More Must Reads by Penny Wylder

  Fake Love (For Now)

  Penny Wylder

  Copyright © 2021 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  1

  Erin

  Drunk people are funny.

  Granted, they’re funnier when they’re your own friends rather than your parents and their friends. But there’s a certain kind of charm in watching older people let loose and giggle over s’mores.

  At least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself.

  I could have said no and stayed home. When they asked me, the idea of being alone in the house with nothing to do but binge television and maybe do a face mask was absolutely a nightmare. So I agreed to this trip to the wilderness.

  But now I’m sitting here next to a fire with a bunch of sixty-year-olds who are drunk off their asses and sitting on my couch at home, binging television sounds much better to me. Nothing like regret to kick you in the rear.

  At least it’s beautiful here. Blue Mountain is fucking gorgeous, and since we are just slipping into autumn, it’s even more stunning. On the hike this afternoon, the foliage was in that tenuous place between green and yellow, and it felt like the world was holding its breath.

  The hike itself had been fun enough. I ended up at the back of the group with the hiking guide, who seemed equally content to hike in silence. But that didn’t keep me from looking at him. His name is Hudson, and without a doubt, he is the most attractive man I’ve ever seen. Blond and bearded and stoic, he basically exudes masculinity and sex. If you could bottle a person, every man in the world would be waiting for days to get the essence of Hudson.

  Even comparing him to the scenery around us, he was better. And frankly, sneaking glances at him throughout the whole hike has been the best part of the day. Plus, being around him made my lie to my parents more plausible. He just has to…you know, not notice me.

  Which isn’t going to happen. Not when I’ve been staring at him like he’s Michelangelo’s David in the flesh. I wanted to be subtle, but I gave that up after a while. He definitely knows that I’ve been staring. And…fine. Just one more person that will think I’m a sad loser, and I’ll never see them again after this weekend.

  A cheer goes up across the fire pit as my parents attempt to roast a s’more and fail spectacularly. It makes me smile all the same. It’s their fortieth wedding anniversary this weekend, and they deserve to have a good time. And they’ve been more than good to me these past few months, despite me being…me. And like this.

  But all of this revelry is a little much, so when everyone seems occupied with their s’mores and their drinks, I slip away. The layout of Blue Mountain isn’t hard to follow, so it’s easy to slip away from the fire pit on the bank of the river and through the large open field of trees toward the main lodge. It’s a huge building with a dining room and kitchen, some guest rooms on the upper floors, and a wrap-around porch that’s to die for. It’s the kind of porch that you imagine yourself sitting on when you’re older, drinking sweet tea and scolding squirrels.

  There are so many details here. Little touches in the corners where you wouldn’t notice them if you weren’t looking. Carvings of trees and forest animals, pressed leaves painted to the walls, the fact that the wood of the lodge perfectly matches the trees in the woods.

  But I walk past the lodge, hearing low voices from the open door, and keep walking. There’s another huge green area with picnic tables and low lanterns hung in the trees. It’s magical.

  Past the ropes course, which is a little eerie in the dim evening light. It looks a little like something haunted and abandoned. I wonder if they do anything with it for Halloween. Seems like it would be the perfect set-up for it. But beyond that and the archery range is my destination: The stables.

  My parents didn’t sign up for any trail rides—there are too many people in their group and not enough horses, but the stable is open. It’s much quieter here, which suits me just fine. And nine times out of ten I like animals more than I like people. The minute that I step inside the doors I feel so much more settled that it’s almost crazy. A weight lifts off my chest and I can finally breathe.

  “Hi there,” I say to the horse nearest me. It whickers softly, and I stroke its nose. “How are you?”

  It bumps its nose into my hand and tosses its head lightly. “Can I brush you?” I ask. “Would you like that?”

  The tools are all hanging on the wall, everything in its place, and I grab a brush and slowly step into the stall with the horse. Given its size, I’m going to guess that it’s male. But he’s gentle, and he whickers again when I start to brush him.

  “This is a lot more fun for me,” I tell him.

  I’ve always loved talking to animals. They listen. It’s never not amazed me that animals have such emotional facility. They make you feel grounded. Like you belong where you are and not where you thought you’d be.

  “Maybe they’ll let me ride you anyway,” I whisper. “Even without a reservation.”

  “We could probably work something out.”

  The voice from the doorway makes me jump. Hudson stands silhouetted in the dim light, and he flicks on a light in the stable. “Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “That’s okay. I hope I’m not overstepping.”

  He shakes his head. “Nah, he loves it.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Bridger.”

  I laugh softly. “Any reason?”

  “He really likes jumping over things, even things he doesn’t really need to jump over.”

  “Good boy,” I whisper, and look back over at Hudson. He’s putting away some gear I recognize from this afternoon’s hike. I hadn’t noticed the rack of hiking gear on the other side of the room. “Did you have to rescue that?”

  Hudson just smiles. “Happens all the time.”

  “You often have rowdy parties of sixty-somethings?”

  “Always,” he leans against the door. “Honestly, they’re our main demographic.”

  I keep brushing. “I would have thought it was young adventurous types.”

  “We get some of those too. But the things we do aren’t always extreme enough for those people. It’s fine, whoever wants to come here and enjoy themselves is welcome.”

  “That’s a good attitude to have,” I say.

  He pins me with a stare. “So why are you out here away from the party?”

  I smile. Should I tell the truth? Or make something up? Something about the way he’s looking at me tells me that I’ll regret it if I lie to him. “It’s a bit loud for me. I wasn’t even really supposed to come this weekend, and I’d rather hang out with animals than people, so…here I am.”

  Hudson crosses his arms. “Honestly,
that’s me too.”

  “I’m Erin,” I say, holding out my hand. “Even though we met earlier.”

  “Hudson.” The second he takes my hand, I feel like the floor is falling out from underneath me. That single connection feels like electricity and danger and exhilaration all rolled up into one. It’s probably just me. Because he’s so fucking hot and I’ve been thinking about touching him all day. And I’m definitely imagining the flash of heat in his eyes.

  “Oh,” I say. “By the way, I apologize in advance if my parents act like you and I are old friends.”

  He tilts his head, and looks at me quizzically. “Why would they think that?”

  All I can do is look down at my feet and shake my head. “It’s a long story,” I chuckle.

  “Okay, now you have to tell me why.”

  2

  Hudson

  I’m not an idiot, and I’m certainly not blind. This woman is hotter than noon in the summer on the equator. When we were hiking earlier and she was keeping pace with me perfectly, sweat shining on her skin and hair flying everywhere, it was all that I could do to keep my eyes off her.

  Now, I’m not even making an effort not to look at her.

  Yesterday, when she showed up with the group of seniors for the weekend—looking more than a little out of place—I had to adjust my pants and pick my jaw off the floor.

  I’ve never had a type—and men that have a ‘type’ are usually guys that I want to punch in the face. If you’re attracted to someone, you’re attracted to them, and I’ve found that it doesn’t matter whether or not that person has blonde hair or not.

  But damn. If I do have a type, it’s Erin. She’s ticking all of these boxes in my brain that I didn’t even know that I had. Petite, fiery red hair, big green eyes that show every emotion like she’s a fucking open book. She is beautiful, and every part of me notices. Especially my body.

  It sucks that she’s a guest, so there’s not anything I can really do about it. Not that Leo and Asher could say shit to me if I decide that I want to, given the way that they both recently found their partners.

  I can’t say that I’m not interested. Especially after the comment about her parents thinking that we’re old friends. What is this chick up to?

  Erin sighs and puts away the brush she’s been using before leaning against the wall. Even with the lights in the stable it’s dark, and I find myself moving closer to her just so I can see her face more clearly.

  “Honestly?” She laughs without any humor. “I lied to them. They think I’m kind of a regular here. I’ve told them a bunch of times that I was coming here to go on hikes, do the whole white water rafting thing, ropes course, archery. Even horseback riding. Anything you offer here? They think I’ve done it.”

  “And why were you lying?”

  She looks at me and bites her lip, which makes me look at her lips. They’re fucking perfect. I want to soothe that bite with my tongue and then bite her again. And then maybe move on to something more.

  “Well I actually have a pretty intense work schedule. I mean, really intense. I work at an emergency animal clinic. You see, my plan is to become a vet. And my parents are the concerned type. Always afraid I’m working too hard, too hyper-focused. ‘You’re so young, Erin. You need to let go and have fun.’” she imitates their voices and rolls her eyes. “So I told them that I was coming here so they would lay off a bit, not worry so much. I didn’t know that they’d actually end up coming here.”

  I laugh. It’s impossible not to. “A vet? That’s awesome.”

  “Hence the whole animals over people thing,” she says with a small smile. “I did actually come here before, once, when you guys first got the horses. That’s what gave me the idea in the first place. It’s beautiful up here, and it was the first thing that popped into my head.”

  “Glad to hear that.”

  Blue Mountain is beautiful, and all three of us owners take pride in making it a place that people love and want to come back to. I won’t lie, if someone told me as a kid that I’d end up as the owner of a holiday destination, I would have laughed in his face. But it suits me. I’m the one that plans the excursions. Activities Director, that’s me. Internally, I shake my head at the stupid fucking title Leo and Asher made me take.

  For a while I didn’t really have to worry about any of the business shit. All I did was split the hikes with Leo and make sure that everyone had a good time. But as Blue Mountain expanded, I’ve had to do more admin work, and the restlessness of that is constantly under my skin.

  Whenever I have the chance now, I slip into the woods on my own and just…go. Now that Leo and Asher have partners, I’m lonely. Of course I’m happy for my friends. It’s just—I love Blue Mountain, and nothing is going to make me give up on this place and this dream. I’m just going to have to get used to the way things are now, and hope that I can stand the changing current.

  We used to have a kind of Three Musketeers thing going on, but now that they have Rose and Diana, it’s different. So the only place where I don’t feel the crushing weight of everything that’s changing is in the open woods. And talking to Erin right now.

  “How often are you using us as an excuse?”

  She snorts. “Whenever I possibly can. Practically every weekend. I’m amazed that they haven’t caught on because I’m supposedly doing all this outdoorsy stuff, but I still get winded walking up the stairs.”

  “I highly doubt that. You were barely winded on that hike today.”

  Erin glances up at me. “I didn’t think you even knew I was there.”

  “A beautiful woman hiking beside me? Of course I knew.”

  Her cheeks tinge pink in the dim light. I like that. It makes me wonder what else I can do to make her cheeks turn pink. And then red.

  She clears her throat. “But yeah, whenever they need a shift covered, I volunteer.”

  “Sounds strenuous.”

  “Maybe.” She just shrugs. “But I love it. I have to do it.”

  Something about the way that she says she has to snags on the edges of my mind. There’s a determination there that I can’t name. “You sure you’re not actually working too hard?”

  The way her eyes shatter sends a shock through my chest, and she looks away. “Not hard enough.”

  The words are soft. So soft and completely laced with emotion. The pain in those words makes me want to pull her close and wrap her in my arms. To make the pain go away.

  All at once she pushes off the wall and walks out of the barn, head down so that I can’t see her face. She’s walking in the direction of the fire pit, but she shouldn’t go there. Not like this. That group—her parents—are too rowdy and drunk for whatever just came over her.

  It’s not my business. It’s not. But I can’t stop myself from reaching out and catching her by the arm. There’s absolutely nothing in me that’s going to let her walk away right now.

  Erin looks at my hand on her arm, then up at me, and her eyes are glassy with built up emotion. Fuck. I swallow. “Your parents will assume that we know each other?”

  Slowly, she nods. “Probably, yeah.”

  “Then it won’t be a stretch for us to have a drink together that doesn’t involve marshmallows and loud campfire songs, right?”

  Her whole body looks relieved, and she nods. “Yes.”

  “You’re in guesthouse five?”

  She nods again.

  “Okay, I’ll go get some drinks and meet you there.”

  Erin blinks once. “Yeah, okay.” She walks in the opposite direction of the fire pit, toward the guest houses, and I head toward my house.

  There’s more alcohol in the main lodge, but I don’t want to take the chance that I’ll run into Leo and Asher and they’ll ask why I’m going anywhere with two glasses. They would give me shit about it even if they don’t have any right to.

  This is probably a bad idea. Scratch that, it is an extremely bad idea. But I’m beyond caring at the moment. Erin is beautiful and interesti
ng, and I want to know more about her. If anything else happens, then so be it. Never an expectation, of course, but the thought crosses my mind. Either way, she needs something other than a group of drunks right now.

  Here we go.

  3

  Erin

  God, it’s probably stupid to agree to this. I’ve found that trying to drink your sorrows away doesn’t usually end well. But one drink isn’t going to kill me, and there’s no chance that I’m going to turn down a drink with Hudson—the hottest man on the planet.

  No matter that my mind is swimming in sadness again because I remember why I’m working at the clinic and not getting ready to go back to school. Hudson will be a beautiful distraction.

  My parents did the kindness of getting me my own guest cabin so I don’t have to stay with them or with any of their friends. It’s a cute little house with one bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room. This place makes me want to come back here and stay longer without my parents. It’s the perfect place to get away.

  There’s a fireplace here, and on an impulse, I start a fire. It’s not great—I don’t have a lot of experience starting fires—but they left good kindling, and within minutes it’s crackling merrily.

  Maybe this is as good as sitting on the couch at home with Netflix.

  Only minutes later there’s a soft knock at the door, and suddenly my heart is pounding in my chest. He’s here, and when I open the door my eyes see nothing but him. I hadn’t noticed that he was in casual clothes at the barn and not hiking gear, but I notice now. And the way the Henley sticks to his skin and shows off every inch of muscle is fucking fantastic. Jeans that fit him perfectly and make me wonder how delicious he looks walking away.