A Weekend With Her Fake Fiancé. Traci Douglass

night too. Fifteen-hour labor.” Carmen stretched her arms above her head. “Patient finally delivered this morning.” She shuffled her sore feet, then closed the chart she’d completed and shoved it aside. “Why?”

      “We just brought a patient into the ER and I’ve got a few minutes to kill. Thought maybe you’d like to grab a coffee. Looks like you need one. If you drive home now, you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”

      He smiled the sexy smile that always got her right in the feels. No man should be allowed to be that handsome. Seriously. The navy blue fabric of his paramedic uniform only made his dark skin glow more warmly beneath the overhead lights, and the material seemed to cling to all his rippling muscle and highlight his pure masculine grace.

      “Does that kind of pick-up line work well for you?” Carmen frowned, reminding herself that Zac was off-limits, firmly in the friend zone. And that was where he needed to stay if her plan was going to work. “Telling women how awful they look?”

      “C’mon,” he teased. “You know you want some caffeine.”

      She wanted to refuse, but he was right, darn it. Plus, she needed to ask him her favor, and now seemed as good a time as any.

      “Fine. One coffee. Let’s go.”

      He chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re cranky.”

      She nudged him toward the elevator, their shoes squeaking on the shiny linoleum floor. While they waited her pulse kicked up a notch. Not because of his hotness—not entirely, anyway. No, it was nerves. She hated asking people for help. Especially when it was for a problem she’d brought upon herself.

      If only she’d kept her mouth shut when the head of that clinic in California had mentioned Priya and Lance’s engagement. If only she’d stopped herself from letting the easy lie roll off her tongue, sweet and potent, like the rum she’d used to serve to tourists when she’d bartended at that all-inclusive resort in Trinidad to make ends meet while paying her way through school.

       Yes, I’m getting married too!

      Ugh. The memory of her statement made during the interview still made her cringe.

      Because she wasn’t getting hitched. Hell, she hadn’t even dated a man in months.

      To her horror, the clinic owner had seized on that information and invited her and her nonexistent fiancé to attend the upcoming national midwifery conference, where they’d announce their choice of candidate for the new job.

      So here Carmen was, needing a fake fiancé for the weekend.

      Unfortunately, time was running out and Carmen had only been able to come to one conclusion: Zac Taylor was the best man for the job. He was smart, funny, and not interested in forever.

      Exactly what Carmen needed.

      The elevator dinged and they stepped on board, the doors closing before anyone else joined them. She felt Zac’s gaze on her and resisted the urge to fidget. She probably looked a mess after working all night, but it wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone—least of all him.

      It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her at the end of a long shift before. They hung out together as part of a larger group of colleagues at the hospital, including doctors Jake Ryder and Molly Flynn, trauma nurse Wendy Smith and her OB doc husband Tom, plus Susan—Zac’s EMT partner—and Lance and Priya, and some of the other local firefighters and their significant others. It was a large group and easygoing. Uncomplicated. The last thing she wanted to do was mess up that vibe by allowing her attraction to Zac to get any farther along than fantasy territory.

      So, yeah. Zac was a friend. A friend from whom she needed a favor.

      They got their drinks, then found a quiet table in the sunny atrium of the cafeteria, away from the other patrons. Sade’s “Smooth Operator” was playing on the sound system overhead and Carmen couldn’t contain her ironic snort. If there was a better theme song for Zac’s serial dating, she didn’t know it.

      “What?” Zac leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs. He was a good foot taller than her petite five-foot-four-inch frame. “What’s so funny?”

      “Nothing. Just tired, I guess,” she said, trying to pass off her inappropriate giggles as fatigue. “Are you off work soon too?”

      “Nah. I wish... Pulling a double shift.”

      He sipped his iced chai tea. Zac worked almost as hard as she did, always picking up extra runs when he could. Work hard, play hard, apparently.

      The favor nagged in the back of Carmen’s mind, making her jittery. “Do you have plans next weekend?”

      “Not sure.” Zac frowned at her over the straw in his drink. “Why?”

      Her cheeks flamed hotter. To distract herself, she toyed with a copper-colored curl that had escaped the ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her hair never obeyed, no matter how hard she tried to tame it into submission. She blamed her mother’s Ghanaian ancestry as much as the ever-changing Alaskan weather.

      “I have a thing.”

      “A thing?” Zac raised a brow at her.

      “A national conference. Next weekend. I was hoping maybe you could come with me, if you’re not busy.”

      She clutched her cup so hard the stiff cardboard threatened to collapse. She was so not good at this sort of thing.

       Calm down. There’s no reason to be nervous. This isn’t a real date.

      As far as their one-night stand went—well, she had no idea. But, given the fact he’d never brought it up with her, she doubted he even remembered their fling. They’d both had far too much to drink. It was water under the bridge. No reason for her pulse to race or her breath to catch. She was just another notch in his already well-scored bedpost.

      An odd pain pinched her chest. Which was ridiculous. And stupid. She didn’t want a relationship with Zac any more than he wanted one with her.

      So why was all this causing her more stress than delivering triplets?

      “Wait a minute.” Zac sat forward, his dark gaze narrowed. “You’re inviting me to go away with you for the weekend?”

      He looked about as shocked as she felt at the proposition. Her throat tightened and she swallowed hard against the lump of unaccountable anxiety lodged there. “Yes. No. Well, not exactly.” Nerves made her fumble her words. “I mean, yes. I’m inviting you to come with me for the weekend. To pretend to be my fiancé.”

      There. She’d done it. Asked for the favor. Now all she needed was for him to say yes.

      Minutes ticked by like hours as Zac blinked at her in silence.

      “Fiancé?” he said finally, his tone incredulous. “Uh... I’m going to need a few more details.”

      “Like what?” She frowned.

      “Like why?”

      She gave a heavy sigh and closed her eyes. “Because there’s a new clinic opening in Big Sur, California, and I’m being considered for a supervisory midwife position there. If I get it, it would be a huge bump in salary. But Priya’s up for the job too, and the company was really excited about her and Lance getting married. Not that being married is a requirement or anything, but I got caught up in the moment, and I didn’t want to be outdone, so I told them I was getting married too.”

      She sighed and opened her eyes, forcing herself to keep going even as she avoided Zac’s gaze.

      “I realize how stupid it sounds, but the words just came out. And once I’d said them I couldn’t take them back without making a fool of myself or risking being thrown out of contention for lying. So, yes. They’re announcing the candidate they’ve chosen at the national midwifery conference and they asked me to bring along my fiancé to help me celebrate