Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Don’t think about his body. Or how hard it is. Or how hard you want him to fuck you against the wall in your apartment.
Lifting my chin and praying my willpower holds as he ambles closer, until the soap and citrus smell of him teases at my nose, reminding me of how good my sheets smelled after he ravaged me in them, I say, “Seriously. What are you doing here?”
“That night we grilled shrimp in your apartment,” he says, now looming over me, forcing me to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact with his much-taller self. “Do you remember what we talked about?”
I frown as scenes of that night flit through my head. “We talked about a lot of things. And we had a lot of wine.”
“And two desserts,” he says, moving closer still, until his body heat warms my skin and my traitorous nipples tighten beneath the bodice of my bridesmaid’s dress.
But it’s getting cold on the beach as the sun finishes setting. That’s the only reason I’m having this reaction. It has nothing to do with the man looking at me like he’s imagining what I looked like wearing nothing but a smile as I rode him in a chair by my kitchen table.
We’d been so hot for each other after the second dessert, we couldn’t even make it to the bed…
“And before you took the espresso mousse from the refrigerator,” he continues, “you told me how much you wanted children. How you were dying to have a baby, actually, but hadn’t found the right situation yet.”
I frown harder. “Okay. And?”
“What if I could provide you with the right situation?” he says, making my brows shoot up my forehead.
“What?” I say with a sharp huff of laughter. “What does that even mean?”
“My mother is dying,” he says, sending a flash of pain through my chest. “It’s cancer. Inoperable. She doesn’t have much time.”
“I…” I swallow. “I’m sorry. My mom died a few months ago. Also cancer. It fucking sucks.”
“It does,” he agrees. “So does feeling helpless to comfort the only person who really matters to you in the world. There is literally nothing I or my money or my influence can do for her. There’s only one way I might be able to ease her passing.” He pauses, his already penetrating gaze boring into mine before he adds, “All she’s ever wanted is to see me settled down and starting a family.”
My breath catches and my heart beats faster. But surely, he doesn’t mean what I think he means. “And what does that have to do with me?”
“You want a baby,” he says. “I need a fiancée, preferably one who’s pregnant with my child, ensuring my mother dies believing I’ll have the family she’s always wanted for me and someone who adores me by my side once she’s gone.”
I shake my head, my stomach churning. “That’s twisted, Hunter. She wouldn’t want you to lie to her.”
“Not if she knew I was lying,” he says. “But she won’t. You’re good with people. Charming. Likeable. I firmly believe you’re capable of convincing her we’re in love and eagerly anticipating the birth of our first child. And, if you succeed in that, once she’s gone, I’ll make sure you and the baby never want for anything.”
I blink faster. This still sounds crazy, but a part of me is also…intrigued. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean ten thousand a month in child support until the child turns eighteen and all other expenses paid.”
I’m grateful I don’t have beer in my mouth because I’m sure I’d be spitting it out. “Ten thousand?”
“Fine, fifteen,” he says, clearly mistaking the shock in my tone. “And I’ll pay off the loan on your building. But that’s all I’m willing to offer.”
I laugh. “You’re crazy.”
“It’s a generous offer.”
“Still crazy,” I say, even as my wheels turn faster. “And what if I would rather move to New York? To be closer to friends?”
He frowns, but after a beat says, “I can get you a place in the city, but not on the Upper West Side. We’ll have to find you a place in Lower Manhattan. Or, better yet, Brooklyn. Once my mother’s gone, I don’t want to see you or the child. A clean break will be best.”
My eyes widen and pain locks around my ribs again, but after rolling his words over in my head for a beat, I realize it’s a good thing he wouldn’t want to be in the picture. After all, I don’t have feelings for Hunter or respect Hunter or want a man like him in my life for the long haul. I turned out just fine without ever knowing my father. I’m sure I can provide the same kind of loving single-parent home my mom gave to me.
Knowing our connection has an expiration date—and that I’ll be able to raise my baby in peace, close to the friends I love, in a place I could never afford to live without a financial boon of some kind—could actually be…pretty amazing.