Not-So Fake Fiance Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Novella Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
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Jeremy gave me a squeeze. “Sorry, baby. They’re usually better behaved than this.”

“Don’t believe a word he says. He’s just trying not to scare you off,” Samantha warned. “I’ve been around my brother and Jeremy plenty of times, and they’ve always bickered like this.”

“Bickered?” James echoed, nipping at her neck. “You’re making us sound like an old married couple instead of the manly men we are.”

“Remind me again why I let my sister work for me?” Landon scrubbed his palm down his face. “Especially now when I have to watch them do shit like that, knowing I’m the one who sent her into the lion’s den.”

“Did you hear that, baby? Your brother called me a lion,” James teased, making a low roar sound that made Landon cringe.

Moving closer to Jeremy, I twined my arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “We should bring my grandfather to the next poker night. He’ll fit right in with all the bickering.”

Jeremy nodded and brushed his lips against mine. “Great idea, baby. I can see him running the table and taking all of our money, too.”

Tate heaved a deep sigh. “As long as he actually plays the hand he’s dealt instead of leaving his cards on the table and forgetting all about the game, he sounds like a perfect addition to me.”

James pointed at Tate. “That’s assuming I bring you along next time after all the complaining you’ve done tonight. I thought hockey players were supposed to be stoic and shit.”

“Nah, you’re thinking of football players like the one my sister recently married.” Tate shook his head with a sigh. “Then again, he’d fit right in with the bunch of you. Not only is he totally gaga over Talia, but he also let her think their relationship was fake when they were first starting out.”

“Sounds like he’s our kind of guy,” Landon agreed.

“Maybe I should invite him to the game next month instead of Tate,” James joked.

“No way are you tearing him away from Talia’s side, and they’re all the way out in New York anyway,” Tate pointed out.

Jeremy shrugged. “We came in from LA for the weekend.”

“Exactly, we can bring in whoever the fuck we want. That’s what private jets are for,” Jason pointed out. “I’ll send mine for your brother-in-law and sister, and Jeremy and McKenna can bring her grandfather with them on theirs.”

I thought Jeremy’s brother had been joking, but that was exactly what happened at the next poker game. My grandfather fit in with the guys just as well as I expected, and Jeremy gave Tate something else to complain about since he hovered over me the entire time because I was pregnant.

EPILOGUE

JEREMY

Yep. My wife was fucking amazing.

I looked around the gallery, and my chest puffed with pride. Several months ago, we’d been down at the beach behind our house—we’d moved in to the house with her grandfather the year after we were married. He’d grumbled about needing his own space, but we shut that down fast.

Corbin wasn’t on death’s doorstep, but we wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. Plus, Julia, our three-year-old daughter, and Justice, our two-year-old son, loved having him around every day.

It had been a gorgeous day, and we’d been laughing and running in and out of the waves.

McKenna had been inspired, and that night, after the kids were in bed, she disappeared into her studio. I’d renovated the tiny beach house in the back so she wouldn’t have to go all the way to her gallery when inspiration struck.

The next morning, she showed me the painting she’d spent all night working on. It was breathtaking. She’d captured one of the moments when our children had been running along the waves. The view was from behind, but somehow, she managed to make it clear they were laughing and filled with complete joy. The landscape looked so real that I felt like I would feel the warmth of the sun, the sand, and the water if I touched it.

She made a series of these paintings, always the view from behind as children, kids and their parents, young lovers, and even an elderly couple who were clearly still in love after all their years together.

It was opening night at her gallery, displaying her creations for the first time. As I scanned the crowd, most of the patrons had a slightly dreamy expression as they moved from painting to painting. Clearly, my wife had brought the beauty of those moments alive.

“We’re headed out.”

I turned to see Landon and Zoe approaching with my son and daughter.

“Thanks for taking the kids,” I said, clapping Landon on the back and giving Zoe a hug. We’d let our children come to the opening, but our friends were taking them back to my old Malibu house—which I kept for occasions such as these—to have a sleep over with their little ones.


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