Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
But, from what I had gathered, we actually did have to be convincing as a couple.
Kip’s carefree expression remained. “Figured as much. Is it really gonna be that painful for you to pretend you like me and want my dick?” he asked conversationally.
I felt my ears heat with irritation, and I decided not to deign that question with an answer. “In addition to acting like a couple, we have to live together.” I looked around his house with distaste. “And it won’t be here.”
Again, Kip shrugged. “You got a guest room?”
I nodded.
“That’s sorted.”
He was making this too easy, being far too agreeable. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or I was missing some kind of ulterior motive.
“I know why I’m doing this. Why are you doing this?” I put my hands on my hips. “Be honest with me. Your last name might be Goodman, but you’re no one’s hero.”
His expression was tight. Cold. “My reasons are my own. You try to push it with the questions, you try to dig into my shit, we’re gonna have problems.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“Jesus, okay,” I said, holding my hands up in surrender. “I feel like it’s only prudent to ask the man willing to commit immigration fraud by marrying you as to why he wants to do that, but if you’re gonna go all Seal Team Six on it…” I didn’t sound perturbed. I sounded casual, breezy.
But I would be lying if I said the abrupt change in his demeanor, tone, and posture didn’t set my teeth on edge.
The Kip I knew—and granted, I didn’t know him that well—was jovial, flirty, and much too cocky for my liking. Sure, he had the muscles that communicated he was a tough guy, but I never got the dangerous, tortured vibe from him. The vibe that was now etched into him.
He hid it well.
It was interesting, an untold depth. Nora had told me that he and Rowan were deployed together, but she’d never delved into the details of what that was.
I didn’t ask because it wasn’t my business.
And even if I was marrying this man, it still wasn’t my business. I didn’t need to go learning things about him. And he certainly didn’t need to learn things about me.
“We’re going to have to see a lawyer, to hammer out the details, but I imagine we’ll need to be married for an extended amount of time… or at least until my Green Card arrives,” I said, wringing my hands. “And we’re not having sex. So…” I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to phrase this.
“I’m not going to be a nun in the time we’re married,” I blurted. “I have a great collection of vibrators, but sometimes I need the real thing.”
Kip’s eyes widened, and his grin was even wider. “As much as your vibrator collection intrigues me—”
“Dream on, buddy,” I interrupted.
His smile dimmed. “We need to take care of our needs, we do it outside of town limits. We know what this fuckin’ town is like. Last thing we need is some kind of cheating scandal.”
I nodded once, careful to keep my face blank. It was a smart idea. This application process was going to take a year, if not more. It was unrealistic, to say the least, to expect both of us to stay chaste in that time. Despite that, a bitter taste entered my mouth at the thought of Kip ‘taking care of his needs.’ A double standard since I was the one who brought it up.
“Okay,” I said brusquely. “So, we’re really doing this.”
“We’re really doing this,” he responded.
“Last chance to back out.” I wasn’t sure if I was talking to him or me.
Kip was silent for a second. “Not known for backing out on my word” was his response.
Ugh, what an American macho guy thing.
“So, we’re doing this,” I said again.
“For better, for worse, till death do us part,” he replied with a wink.
Though he was teasing, those words settled inside me like a stone. Cold, heavy, foreboding.
The next order of business was an immigration lawyer.
I went two towns over for that. Mainly because we had one law practice in Jupiter, and they were all regulars at the bakery—everyone was regulars at the bakery because it was the tits—and therefore, people I would see every day.
Not that I didn’t trust them to stay true to the whole lawyer confidentiality thing, I just didn’t want the added hassle of continuing to shit where I ate. And because I loved the town and almost everyone in it—save for Nora’s ex’s mother, a right cunt—I didn’t want to engage anyone else in this little federal crime.
The offices in Portsmith were nice, clean, modern, and devoid of any warmth or personality. Exactly what I needed. I didn’t want anything to make this process feel fun or romantic in any kind of way.