Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Maggie’s perfect for my parents.
Hell, the girl’s perfect for me.
It seemed that Henry agreed too. After drinks and dessert, my dad pulled me aside with a serious look.
“She’s not your usual type,” he harrumphed, a shot of whiskey in one hand. Seriously, Dad needed to lay off. I could see burst capillaries on his nose, and his face was florid and sweaty like an old man suffering withdrawal.
But I nodded agreeably.
“Yeah, Maggie’s different. She doesn’t want to be an actress or model. She’s into animals,” I said smoothly.
Henry harrumphed again, belly shaking.
“The girl have a degree?” he asked.
“Working on it,” I replied. “Maggie’s in school for her AA. She’ll get her BA later, and then apply to a vet program. She wants to work with rescue animals and nurse them back to health.”
That got Henry’s grudging respect because none of us have an advanced degree, so Maggie’s desire to go beyond a BA impressed him.
“Hold on tight to this one,” he grunted, taking another sip. “She’s one in a million.”
I shot him a cool look.
“I intend to,” was my reply.
Evelyn had her thoughts as well. While Maggie was chatting amiably with my dad, my mom pulled me aside.
“Why haven’t you gotten her a ring?” she whispered, eyes aghast. “What girl doesn’t deserve an engagement ring?”
Yeah, it was a little weird that Maggie’s finger was bare. So I nodded.
“Just haven’t gotten to it,” was my smooth reply. “I’m taking her shopping tomorrow, she wanted to pick out her own design.”
“Well you should!” scolded Evelyn, her own ten carat rock glittering under the lights. “It’s shameful that your fiancée doesn’t have one yet! Is that how I raised you?” my mom huffed. “Is that how you treat your women?”
So it was final.
My girl was getting a diamond, and a real nice one too. My wallet was open, and no ring was too expensive, no diamond too big. I was taking her ring shopping and we were going to make this legit.
“We’re here, Mr. Lincoln,” said the chauffeur.
Distracted, I glanced up as the car stopped. Yep, sure enough, we were at Maggie’s place. The front door opened then, and out bounced my best girl with a sweet smile
Fuck, she looked amazing.
Under the pretty yellow sundress, those big boobies jiggled and swayed. And shit, those hips. I shifted in my seat as she slid in, dick already hard and ready to take.
No other woman did this to me. Ever.
“Good morning,” the pretty brunette murmured, kissing me on the cheek. A waft of floral perfume drifted over my senses, mixed in with the heady smell of musk.
“You look nice,” I grunted, hands already itching to stroke and feel.
But Maggie was playful today.
“Thank you, Mr. Fiancé,” came a giggle. “So what are we doing this afternoon?” she asked, making herself comfortable, nestling into the leather. I had half a mind to tell the driver to drive in circles while I made love to my girl in the backseat. But that wasn’t right. There were important things that needed to get done.
I cleared my throat.
“You ready for your ring?”
Her mouth flew open, eyes wide.
“My-my ring?” she stammered, cheeks growing pink. “What ring?”
I smiled.
“No Lincoln bride goes without an engagement ring, sweetheart. So we’re going to pick out a diamond. What do you think?”
The girl couldn’t speak for a moment.
“A diamond?” she gasped. But then she stopped herself. “Evan,” she said slowly. “It’s not necessary. Really not necessary.”
But I wouldn’t hear of it. And I didn’t want to hear it, frankly. How this was just a business transaction. How I’d paid her twenty thousand dollars to masquerade as my fiancée. It didn’t seem relevant at this point, the exchange of money so far in the past.
So I quashed her protests.
“You’re getting a ring,” I growled, blue eyes intense. “And that’s that.”
For once, my girl didn’t say anything in return, merely looking back before turning her gaze out the window.
And we drove in silence for a while, easing through the streets of Manhattan, towering high-rises and corner bodegas crammed onto the same city block.
Within ten minutes, the car pulled up at an unmarked building, ramshackle with peeling paint. It didn’t look like a jewelry store, that was for sure. There were no glistening baubles under the bright lights, no fancy displays or security guards looming with firearms on the ready.
While the chauffeur waited in the car, I escorted my best girl up the steps, ringing the bell.
“Where are we?” Maggie asked in a low voice. “What is this place?”
I didn’t blame her. This was the opposite of Cartier or Tiffany. Instead, it looked like we were at a seedy back alley, about to enter an illegal gambling ring.
But seconds later, the door opened with an electronic chime before swinging shut silently behind our forms.
Two security guards stood there, burly and huge. But it was the space beyond that made Maggie gasp. Because despite the dingy exterior, inside no expense had been spared. The store was brightly lit with spotlights, each one highlighting priceless items below, baubles sparkling so bright that my eyes squinted involuntarily.