Love Arranged (Lakefront Billionaires, #3)

by Lauren Asher

She savored our kiss like one does water after a drought. It was as if she sensed my discomfort, so she took her time, teasing me with the faintest pecks until I was the one slanting my mouth over hers and deepening the kiss. It’s ironic how I demanded to be in control of how far we took things, yet I was completely at her mercy as she turned a lifelong aversion for kissing into a newfound addiction. I knew then that I had to let her go. That I couldn’t keep going or pursuing a fake relationship—not when everything about us felt so very real.

“I can hear you,” I say when she mentions my annoying personality. “I’m only getting started.” “Let me know if you need any help identifying my more…positive traits.” “Actually, do you have a few more negatives? I feel like twenty isn’t enough.” I quit teasing her after that comment. After what feels like forever, Lily walks back over to where I stand and stops in front of me. She tilts her head back, and I’m temporarily stunned by the way she looks up at me. The high points of her cheekbones look sharp while the shadows draw my attention toward the subtle curve of her lips. There you go again. I force a harsh breath through my nose. She shifts her weight. “I don’t think us being friends is going to cut it.” And even if it did, I’m no longer interested. “I agree,” I say. Her reply shocks me. “We need to do better than that.” “We?” “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.” “Why not?” “You wanted a fake fiancée?” She jabs me hard in the chest with a manicured finger. “Now you’ve got one.”

LORENZO

Lily volunteering to be my fake fiancée was never an option, and it isn’t about to become one now, so I shut down the idea fast. “No.” Lily’s brows hike toward her hairline. “No, you don’t want a fiancée? Or no, you’re still against me stepping in for the job?” “Both.” “It’s not like I want to do this either after everything you’ve done, but if it means helping you win the election, then I’ll do it.” “Why?” I ask. She keeps her face emotionless. “I don’t like the Ludlows.” “You don’t like me either, so that can’t be the only reason.” “It’s personal.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, but trust me. I want you to absolutely decimate them in the election.”

“Our backstory would make sense. We’re two star-crossed lovers who hid our relationship because my family doesn’t like you. Plus we have…” She flicks her hand between us like I’m supposed to understand her version of sign language. “You know.” I don’t. “Spell it out for me.” “I’d rather demonstrate.” She brushes her hand over the front of my shirt instead, sending a blazing path of warmth down my body. I bite my tongue. “Was something supposed to happen?” To torment me some more, she runs a single finger back up my chest, and I fail to suppress my shiver. “I can tell we’re going to have fun together.” Her voice has a husky rasp to it. “This isn’t supposed to be fun,” I hiss, thinking of why I’m doing all of this to begin with.

If she can put personal feelings aside, why am I struggling with her logic? My eyes drop to her mouth and the tiny beauty mark she has⁠— That’s why. I glance away, hating myself for being so damn…enamored with her. “I can find another fiancée.”

“You can’t come out of nowhere and announce you’re suddenly engaged—at least not to a random someone. People here are smart. There’s a huge chance they’ll see through the lie and lose whatever trust they had in you.” I hate to admit it, but she has a valid point. “In fact…” She pauses. “I bet that’s why you haven’t picked someone to play the part yet. You think it could backfire, so you’re not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m confused why you’re offering to be my fiancée when you think my plan is stupid.” “I never said it was stupid. Is it poorly thought-out and risky? Yeah, but stupid…eh. I think there’s merit to you being in a fake relationship with someone. It makes you seem…likeable.” “Didn’t realize I wasn’t.” Her nose scrunches. “Moving on… Unlike some woman you’d pay to be your fiancée, I’m a sure thing. People here know me, and even better, I know them, which makes me an asset. As you said earlier, they like me, to the point of being invested in who I’m dating and why, and best of all, they trust me.”

“And most importantly, I want you to win.” “Because you don’t like the Ludlows,” I reply, my tone riddled with skepticism. She keeps her emotions in check, making it hard to get a clear read on her, which only verifies my doubts. What did the Ludlows do that made Lily switch to my side, and how do I get her to tell me? So long as you two have the same goal, who cares? I hesitate—a rarity in itself—before speaking. “If I agree…” “Which you will, because my plan is the best.”

“There are already some whisperings about us, especially after the sheriff’s station visit and my drunken episode, so planting additional clues won’t be difficult. They’ll have no choice but to believe it because the signs have been there all along.” It’s alarming how perfect this all sounds. Dare I say too perfect. “So the official storyline is that we’ve secretly been in love this whole time but we hid it?” She nods. “Ever since we met on a dating app last year.” “And we kept quiet all because your family doesn’t like me?” Disbelief bleeds into the question. “Doesn’t that seem extreme to you?” “Anyone who has met my family will understand.” “So all of Lake Wisteria?” “You got it.” “And what changed for us?” I ask. “Why did we decide to go public now versus months ago?” “I couldn’t stand the idea of keeping our love a secret anymore,” she says dramatically. “But I think to sell our engagement, we should give everyone at least two months to adjust to the idea of us being a couple before we hit them with a proposal. Because if we come on too strong, too fast, it could be suspicious.”

“No. We need something more…permanent. Something that tells the town you’re all-in.” I stroke my stubbled chin. “Couples call off engagements all the time.” “Then we’d better do a good job of convincing people that we won’t.”

You can’t become obsessed with someone if you stay away, the voice I fight daily speaks up. Well, I can’t become mayor if I’m ten points behind my competitor, so there’s that.

“Fine. Let’s do this.” She’s about to open her mouth, but a fire alarm goes off inside the bar, drowning out the noise. “How do you feel about starting right now?” She fists the loose material of my T-shirt and tugs until my mouth is within striking distance. It happens so fast, I don’t fully process what Lily is doing until her mouth is pressing against mine, making me forget about the chaos ensuing around us. All I can think about is how this kiss, along with everything else we do from this point on, will be nothing but a lie.

LILY

It took me five minutes to process Lorenzo’s apology and accept that while I’m still angry at him for the choices he made and the heartache he caused me, I need to put our history aside if I want to save Rose & Thorn. Doing so won’t be easy, but it’ll be way easier than watching the Ludlows destroy me along with my parents’ legacy. If that requires me to fake that I’m “in love” with Lorenzo, so be it. Except nothing about our kiss right now feels like pretend.

The world around us ceases to exist. I’m in no hurry, so I take my time, setting a languid pace he matches, right before he turns the heat up. I lean against the brick wall behind me because I don’t trust my legs, and Lorenzo follows, his hands finding the curves of my hips. He presses his body into mine, and I gasp at how right it feels to be underneath him. He grins against my lips, and I kiss it away to spare myself from craving more. More smiles. More fleeting touches. More of his hard length pressing into my⁠— Rusty hinges creak, and a burst of cold air hits the side of my face. Lorenzo ignores it, deepening the kiss until I forget about the original plan. It is hard to multitask with Lorenzo’s teeth tugging on my bottom lip⁠— Someone gasps, followed by a squeaky, “Lily!”

I tuck my head against Lorenzo’s chest—a genuine reaction that makes his hold on my hips tighten. Reluctantly, I lift my head, and Lorenzo’s gaze connects with mine. It’s the heat in his eyes that has me questioning how much of this is real, but then I remind myself how I made that mistake before and where it got me.

Lorenzo’s grip tightens, and Dahlia and Julian’s eyes drop toward our clasped hands. Talk about a hard launch. I let out a nervous laugh. “Hey.” “Hey?” She stares at me like she doesn’t recognize the person standing before her. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Did you not hear the fire alarm?” “Um…I was a bit busy.” I lean into Lorenzo’s side, and thankfully he doesn’t step away. Dahlia focuses her attention back on me. “I can see.”

“Can we go home and talk? Please?” I ask while fighting the compulsion to flee in the opposite direction. Dahlia’s eyes flick over to Lorenzo one last time before she nods. “Yeah. Let’s go.” “Call me later.” Lorenzo gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. The comforting gesture must be part of his act. It has to be. “Okay, Romeo.” Julian claps a hand around his shoulder and tugs him back. “I think I’ve seen enough.” “Then you’re in for a rude awakening because we’re only getting started.” Lorenzo pushes him away.

“If you have a problem with us, you talk to me. Got it?” Lorenzo asks, too low for anyone but us three to hear. To prevent them from throwing punches, I step in and place my hand on Lorenzo’s shoulder. “By the way, this right here”—I motion between Julian and Lorenzo—“is why I kept everything a secret. You can’t have one normal conversation, and it hurts me to see two people I care about dislike each other so strongly.” Julian looks like I’ve slapped him. “Lily⁠—” I hold up my hand. “I think you’ve said enough tonight.”

“All right. I think it’s time we go home.” Dahlia grabs my hand and starts to pull me away from Julian and Lorenzo, but she only manages a step before Lorenzo speaks. “Text me when you get there,” he says, loud enough for the crowd of people around us to hear. “I want to know that you got there safely.” We’re doing this now? All right. “You don’t need to remind me every time, baby.” Someone giggles, while another shouts, “She calls him baby!” Baby, he mouths before he subtly shakes his head. No.

“I thought we were close⁠—” “We are.” My voice shakes. “Then tell me why you didn’t talk to me about the city council letter.” I flinch. “Mom told you about it?” “Yes.” “She could get in trouble,” I grumble. “Which is why I plan on keeping it a secret. Something you should be familiar with.” My stomach sours. “If you knew, then why did you bring up the Pressed Petal tonight?” “Because it’s happening, whether it be on Lavender Lane or somewhere else in town.”

LORENZO

Once Lily disappears inside Dahlia’s car, Julian stalks me back to tonight’s ride—a vintage Jaguar two-seater like the one my dad was always repairing for the Hawthorne family. While my mom managed their wealthy lakefront estate, my father worked odd jobs around town to provide for us. Mechanic. Italian tutor. Firearms instructor, travel agent, and occasional bartender. The life he had in Lake Wisteria was a far cry from his extravagant upbringing, but my mom—a military brat who believed in law and order—didn’t want to expose a child to the Vittori lifestyle. Around the world, our surname is feared as much as it is loathed, so she moved back to the only place that ever felt safe.

“Lorenzo,” Julian says to my back. I turn and lean against the car. “Yes?” He retains a few feet of distance. “How much will it cost me?” “I’m not interested in selling my car,” I say with a detached voice. “I’m not talking about that, and you know it.” His body is riddled with tension. I can make an educated guess about what he’s insinuating, but I want to hear him say it aloud so he has to face his own bad idea. “I’d rather you clarify so I don’t get pissed for no reason.” He holds my cold stare without looking away. “I want you to leave Lily alone.” “And you think money is going to do the trick?” I laugh. “That’s not what I’m offering.” I tilt my head. “Then what do you possibly have that I could ever want?” “You wanted my endorsement, right?” His question makes me pause. “Don’t tell me you’re going to back out of our deal now.” He shakes his head. “No, but what if I could get you more?”

“And Julian?” He lifts his chin in silent acknowledgment. “There is absolutely nothing you can offer me that would convince me to leave Lily—whether it be money, endorsements, or a guaranteed election victory. So bring up the idea again and I’ll show you what it’s like to be my enemy.”

With Manny placated, I lock my phone and walk inside my house. It’s funny living in one that Julian designed given how much he detests me. Julian made it nearly impossible to buy a house, either by outbidding me or using his connections to convince the buyer to sell to him instead. He was motivated to make sure I didn’t own a property within the town’s limits so I’d be ineligible to run for mayor, but I was fueled by more than the need to avenge my parents.

I didn’t have the luxury of being picky. If I did, I would’ve chosen my parents’ older but modest home. But oh, wait, Julian tore it down before I had a chance.

I’m annoyed when Lily doesn’t text me when she gets home. I don’t have a real reason to be, other than her not listening to me, so I try to rationalize what could’ve happened. She probably thought I was joking or putting on a show for the crowd, which technically is true. Or maybe something bad happened to her. That same oily voice comes back, although this time it’s concerned about Lily’s safety, not my own. Fuck. No. This is your OCD talking. Lily is fine. I screw my eyes shut and push the image of her being crushed to death inside Dahlia’s car out of my mind, but once it pops up, I can’t get it out. Text her to check in. It’s a common courtesy after tonight’s events. Me Are you home? There. Was that so hard?

Me If this is going to work between us, I expect you to answer me when I text you. Shit. I sound way too controlling, but I can’t send a third text without looking like I care too much, so I sit around and wait for her to answer.

Two minutes feel like ten by the time a new text pops up. Lily Yes. I’m home. I want to throw my phone across the room because how can three words have the same effect over me as an emergency Xanax? Me Next time do what I say and text me when you get home. Lily Sure, baby. Me I hate the nickname, by the way. Only because my heart does this little jolt every damn time she uses it. Lily Good. Now I love it even more.

“Open up, or else I quit!” I open the door to a red-faced Willow. “What the hell, Lorenzo?!” she shouts. I shut the door before any of my neighbors can hear us. “I can explain.” She barrels into my home like a hellhound, banging into the entryway table and nearly tipping over the vase with one of Lily’s bouquets. The pink clashes with all the earthy tones in my house, but it reminds me of my mom and all the fond memories I have of my father surprising her with weekly bouquets.

“Lorenzo?” Willow waves her hands. “Are you even paying attention to me?” I’m dragged out of the mental fog. “What?” “How did you ever get Lily to agree to being your fiancée?” “Girlfriend,” I correct. “At least for the next two months before we begin Phase Two.” “There are phases now?” “Apparently so.” Her lips purse. “You know what? I don’t care what you label it. Just tell me how it all went down and why she would ever agree to being your fiancée after the Eros app incident.” “I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” She sounds as surprised as she looks. “What do you mean?”

“She mentioned not liking the Ludlows, but we were interrupted before I had a chance to push for more information.” “That’s it?” “Yes.” Willow’s lips thin. “I don’t know if I believe that.” What if she’s doing this to get revenge? The worry grows like a virus, making me feel sick in the head. I can’t think of a better way for her to get back at you about the Eros app. She’s like a Trojan horse, destined to be the downfall of your campaign. Don’t trust her. I’m aware there are some pitfalls to having Lily play the role of my fake fiancée, but I will fight to always stay one step ahead of her.

“What else could you have that she possibly wants? It’s obviously not money.” “No. She didn’t even bring it up.” “Power?” I laugh at the idea. “She doesn’t care about politics.” “Revenge? Because you totally deserve it for the Eros app stuff.” I sigh. “What if she’s angry enough to tank your entire campaign?” Willow voices my exact concern.

“I mean…” She pauses her pacing to look over at me. “I hate to say it, but this could work.” I exhale. “That’s the only reason I agreed.” “But…” I screw my eyes shut. “What?” “You both have to be strategic about this. You need to be seen everywhere but also not too much because we don’t want people to be suspicious either. We can plan public outings, plus we have the Healing Hearts fundraiser dinner coming up.”

“Oh! And imagine going on double dates with her sister and Julian⁠—” “Don’t hold your breath.” “There’s no other option but for you to play nice with Julian, so beg for his and everyone else’s forgiveness if you have to.”

“Exactly. And while we’re on the topic of Lily, I think it’s important to keep her in the loop.” “And how do you suggest we do that?” “Let’s invite her over for lunch and get to work.” Great. More time with Lily. Exactly what the psychiatrist ordered.

LILY

Telling my mom about my secret relationship with Lorenzo first thing the next morning goes worse than I expected. Her simple but significant “I’m disappointed in you” feels like I took a dagger to the heart, so I call Lorenzo in a panic once I’m locked away in my bedroom. “I don’t think I can do this,” I blurt out as soon as he answers the phone. “Can’t do what?” “Lie to my family. My mom is upset, and my sister is pissed.” The speaker crackles with his loud exhale. “Isn’t that something you should’ve considered last night?” My chest puffs with my restrained breath. “Of course I did, but it isn’t so easy.” “And how will telling them about our fake relationship help matters?” “They won’t have a reason to be angry at me anymore.” “Are you sure about that? Your mom doesn’t seem too fond of liars, and your sister would probably be upset you turned to me for help instead of her.”

I fall back on my bed with an unceremonious oomph. “You’re still giving me the option? Why?” “Because we’re a team, whether we like it or not. That means I have to trust that you’ll make the best choice for us, even if it feels like the wrong one for you right now.” I hate him for making sense—but not nearly as much as I hate myself for the flutter in my stomach at him using the word we.

Me Don’t you dare punch my boyfriend. You hear me? Julian I’d only be doing you a favor since that broken nose of his could use some realignment. And my mom thinks I’m disappointing? Filled with instant rage, I become a keyboard warrior, rapid-fire texting without thinking twice about divulging something Laurence once told me during one of our midnight conversations. Me Oh, you mean the fracture he got after his uncle punched him in the face and never got him proper medical attention? Lorenzo would kill me if he knew I told Julian, Rafa, and Dahlia about that story, but I rarely get this angry, so I don’t know how to process the feeling before acting on instinct. My phone vibrates, so I check what else my family has to say. Rafa Well. I don’t know about Julian, but I feel like a dick, and I didn’t even comment on his nose. Julian Of course I feel like a dick. Julian I had no idea his uncle hit him. Me For the record, next time you question why I kept our entire relationship a secret, refer to this chat.

Speaking of the devil, Lorenzo opens the door in nothing but a black T-shirt and jeans. It’s rare to see him looking so casual, and the sight of his thick arms and the faintest hint of abs test my heart rate. “Ran out of clean suits to wear?” I say coolly as I step inside, only to lose my footing when I glance at his entry table. I’ve never had the nerve to ask Lorenzo what he does with the flowers he orders, and I’ve spent way too many hours wondering why he bothered if he clearly wasn’t dating anyone. Or at least that’s what I told myself to feel better about making his bouquets because there is no way I would’ve fulfilled the order any other way. To see one of them in his home, located right by the stairs so he walks by them every day… Who’s to say he didn’t put them there this morning to look like a good boyfriend?

“Do you mind taking off your shoes?” I look down at my sandaled feet and grimace. “Floors were cleaned this morning,” he says when I don’t move right away. With the way it gleams, I’m inclined to believe him, but that’s not my issue. “But my feet get cold.” “Let me get you some socks.” He heads upstairs and disappears without waiting for me to deny his request. “Hey!” Willow pops out of a room and heads over to greet me. “Happy you made it.” She pulls me into a hug. “Anything sounded better than hanging out with my family today.” She winces. “How’s that going?” “About as good as expected.” “Should I bring out the wine?” “Uh…” Willow laughs. “No wine,” Lorenzo grunts from the staircase landing. I look up to see his bare feet slapping against the stairs. “Catch.” He tosses a pair of black ankle socks my way. I look at them with a scrunched nose. He frowns. “What’s that look for?” “Nothing.” I kick off my first sandal and slip a sock on. “Is there something wrong with them?” he asks. “Do I need another reason besides them being yours?”

“The bread!” She takes off toward what I assume is the kitchen. Lorenzo plugs his nose. “I swear that woman would burn water if it was possible.” I rub my rumbling stomach. “Now I’m wishing I had eaten before.” “I’d never let her cook me a meal.” He turns and heads down the same walkway as Willow, silently ordering me to follow.

We continue walking, and I only stop one more time to point at a car I’ve seen around town with the doors that swing up toward the sky. “I didn’t realize this one was yours too.” “Most of the cool ones around here are.” I laugh without meaning to. “How many do you have now?” He tucks his hand into his pocket—a habit I notice but never comment on. “Twenty.” I turn back to the photos to stop myself from staring at his sharp jawline. “Are you on the hunt for number twenty-one?” He nods, his lips twitching like he wants to smile. “I’m currently searching for a Dawn Drophead.” I stare at him blankly. “A Rolls-Royce. Preferably either from 1951 or 1953,” he adds. I let out a whistle. “Fancy.” “There’s only a few in the US, but I’m in contact with someone in Europe who might be interested in trading cars.” He sounds…excited, and it knocks at least five years off him in that moment. “Is the person a fellow car collector?” “He’s known for it.” My brows rise. “I wasn’t aware that was something one could become famous for.” “Only when their name is Santiago Alatorre.”

“Lorenzo and you can set the table?” I assume she is referencing the breakfast nook that faces the lake and forest beyond, but Lorenzo chooses to put the placemats down at the second island before showing me where the silverware drawer is. We both reach inside it at the same time, sending sparks scattering up my arm from a quick brush of his pinky finger against mine. The sensation startles me, and I suck in a breath. It’s not fair to be this…imbalanced around someone. It throws me off, turning me into a bumbling fool who can’t seem to handle his presence. I blame the fact that I see bits of Laurence peeking through, like when he talks about his car collection or how he automatically serves me water without any ice because I once told him I preferred it that way.

So until Lorenzo proves himself worthy, I’ll keep quiet on the matter and enjoy the way it eats him up inside to not know all my secrets.

LILY