Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“Come here.” Jason marches around his desk and is at my side before the tears hit my shirt. “My God, Chloe.”
He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. My cheek lays against him as my heart bleeds inside me.
I can’t remember the last time someone hugged me like this. And that’s why I finally break.
His chin rests on my head as we sway gently from side to side. My tears stain his shirt, my sobs whispering quietly through the room. It’s the first time I’ve been able to cry freely for as long as I can remember.
I didn’t realize I needed this.
I sniffle as the wave of emotion begins to wane and the haze of feelings lifts. A chuckle slips past my swollen lips from embarrassment, and I pull away.
“My mascara is all over your shirt,” I say, wiping my face with my hands.
“I don’t give a damn about the shirt.” He grabs a couple of tissues from the bookshelf behind his desk and brings them to me. “Do you need anything? A drink?”
“No. I’m good.” I still have the coffee this generous, sweet man brought me on my desk. I blow out a breath and sniffle again. “Thank you for that hug.”
“Want to repay me?”
I nod, unsure where he’s going with this.
He half leans and half sits on the edge of his desk. A small smile dances along his lips. “Then fill me in on this wedding we’re having.”
My laughter comes unexpectedly, and the sound makes Jason’s smile grow wider. I swipe the tissue under my eyes and feel my cheeks flush.
“You know I’ll give you the money, right?” he asks. “You don’t have to marry me, for fuck’s sake.”
“You giving me money is not an option. So if you don’t want to marry me—”
“I didn’t say that.”
His words are sharp and decisive, and there’s something so ridiculously attractive about it that I nearly lose track of what I’m saying.
“Then I’d rather earn the money somehow,” I say. “And I can justify this ridiculous bet if I know Tate will donate it anyway. While it hurts my pride to consider myself a charity, I’m desperate enough to succumb to the definition. So, for the next six months, I’ll try my best to make this worth it to you since you’re not taking half of the money. I’ll cook. I’ll clean. I’ll do the laundry. If you have a dog, I’ll walk it. Whatever you want.”
He smirks. “So what you’re saying is that you would do anything for me?”
I try not to smile but fail miserably.
He sits quietly, the wheels behind his eyes turning. I’m too nervous, too emotionally spent, to say anything else. Besides, the proverbial ball is in his court.
Finally, after what feels like ages, he licks his lips. A slow smile ghosts his lips.
I hold my breath, uncertain where this is headed.
“I’ll marry you on one condition,” he says.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Whatever the condition is, I agree,” I say. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’d rather you agree to this because you want to rather than because it’s a term in an arrangement.”
Oh. “Fair.”
He stands tall and straightens his tie as if he can’t manage to sit still any longer. “I don’t just want to get married. I want to prove Tate and Renn wrong. Those cocky little shits run their mouths, and I want to show them that they aren’t always right.”
“How do we accomplish that?”
“We make it believable.” He stops moving, his eyes finding mine. “We make them question whether we’re going through the motions or if we’ve really fallen in love.”
“Clearly, we aren’t falling in love.”
A shadow filters through his features. “Clearly. But they won’t know that.” He moves around his desk, standing next to his chair. “So you move in with me. We continue working together unless you want to be a housewife.”
“I’d like to stay working with you. I hope that after we get divorced, I can keep my job.”
“Of course.”
I nod, sighing in relief. I hope it’s that easy. “Good.”
“But we’ll tell everyone we’re married. We’ll go to dinners, functions, and family events. We’ll move Mimi in with us.”
My heart stops. Eyes go wide. My jaw hangs slack.
I didn’t dream he’d offer that. I hoped I could get a small advance to cover the housing, but does he want Mimi to move in with him, too?
What the heck?
“I have a guesthouse if she’d prefer her privacy,” he says. “We can do whatever makes you two happy.”
“But me? I’d live with you?” I ask, each word measured.
A slow, seductive smile dances along his lips. My gaze is glued to his mouth as I try not to squirm.
If he wants this to be believable, that means our marriage will include things like … sex.
My stomach clenches at the thought. And by the way he looks at me, I think he’s thinking the same thing.