Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“It was… well, not interesting, but informative. I learned a lot.”
“You made his day by listening and asking questions. It’s no wonder he likes you.”
“Does he?”
He was getting groggy and slurring a bit as he murmured, “Definitely. So does my grandfather. I’m not surprised. You’re wonderful, Embry. You’re sweet, and kind, and meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Bryson fell asleep soon after, leaving me to mull that over. How was I the best thing that ever happened to him? Was it because I’d agreed to be his fake husband, and we were succeeding at fooling his family? That had to be what he meant.
But this was only day one. There were still a million different ways we could blow it, so I knew not to get too cocky.
The next morning, I woke up gradually. I felt safe and warm and happy, but I didn’t know why until I realized I was wrapped up in Bryson’s arms. Somehow, we’d gravitated to each other while we slept.
I let myself enjoy it. How could something as simple as being held feel so incredible? I’d obviously really needed this.
A few minutes later, Bryson stirred. Was this going to be weird for him?
He drew me closer, holding me like a teddy bear—tucked under his chin and clutched to his chest. But then, he woke up. When he realized what he was doing, he let go of me and mumbled, “Sorry.”
I sat up and tried to joke about it. “It’s fine. If you can’t cuddle your fake husband, who can you cuddle?”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Okay, this was awkward. I climbed out of bed and told him, “I need to let Dusty out.” Then I hurried to the bathroom before pulling a hoodie over my pajamas and sticking my feet into a pair of sneakers.
My dog wagged half his body as I picked up his leash and fastened it to his collar. Bryson asked, “Want me to go with you?” His voice was rough. When I glanced at him, I saw he was sitting up in bed, looking adorably rumpled.
“You can come with me when we take a real walk later. This is just going to be a quick potty break.” I smiled at him and left the room in a hurry, with my dog leading the way.
This was getting confusing, and we were only at the start of our visit. The fact that I was attracted to Bryson didn’t help. Neither did sharing a bed, kissing, holding hands, and everything else we were doing to sell the idea that we were a real couple.
I was deep in thought as I left the house through a side door and started to lead Dusty along a paved path. That was why I didn’t see Fallon until he was maybe ten feet away. Once I finally noticed him, I stopped short and exclaimed, “Oh! Good morning.”
He was sitting on a brick half-wall, smoking a cigarette and wearing dark glasses. His short hair was sticking up, and he’d put on a suit jacket over a pair of sweats, so he obviously hadn’t been expecting company any more than I was.
He muttered, “Hi, actor. Where’s your fake husband?”
Instead of taking his bait, I asked, “How are you feeling?”
That threw him off. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You were drinking a lot yesterday, and you didn’t make it to dinner. I know you’re going through a hard time right now, so if you need someone to talk to, my door’s always open.”
“I’m no one to you, so why would you care about how I’m doing?”
“You’re my brother-in-law,” I reminded him. “You and I are family now.”
“If you think I’m going to spill my guts to you, you’re out of your mind. I don’t even know you.”
“Sometimes talking to a stranger is easier, though. That’s why people confide in… bartenders, I guess.” There was probably a better example, but that was all that came to mind.
He snuffed out his cigarette and crossed his arms over his chest. “As if I’d ever confide in you. The first thing you’d do is run to Bryson and tell him what a whiny little bitch I am, and the two of you would have a good laugh behind my back.”
“Your brother’s not your enemy, Fallon. I know it must feel that way, since you chose different sides in your parents’ divorce. But he’s a genuinely good person, and he’d be your ally, if you let him.”
He stared at me for a long moment, from behind those dark glasses. Finally, he said, “Okay, I get it. You’re worried I’m going to blow up your sham of a marriage and cost Bryson his inheritance, so you’re trying to buddy up to me.”
“Nope. That’s not what this is.”
“Whatever he’s paying you to pretend you’re a real couple, I’ll pay you double. All you have to do is go to my grandfather and confess that it’s all a lie.”