Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
CHAPTER THREE
RYAN
I stride into the coffee shop, shoulders squared, eyes sharp. The place hums as hushed chatter fills the air, but I ignore everything and glance around. I don’t see anyone who fits the description Mia gave me, so I head over to the front counter to order a coffee.
After the barista hands me my cup, I head over and slide into the last booth in the corner. I’m blowing across the hot surface when the bell over the door jingles. Glancing up, I get the fucking shock of my life.
Holy shit.
For a second, I actually forget how to breathe. She’s five-foot-nothing of pure attitude, hips swaying under a deep red dress like she’s been sent to test every ounce of my self-control. Chocolate hair wild around her face, lips painted a dark red that makes my fucking brain short out. And those eyes? Blue as the summer sky, drilling right through my T-shirt and straight into places I usually keep triple-locked.
She scans the room until her eyes meet mine. I hold my breath as she walks right toward me. I’m on my feet before she’s halfway across the room, nearly knocking over my cup in my haste.
Her mouth curves, just a notch, like she knows I’m off-balance and fucking loves it.
"You must be Ryan," she tosses out, dropping into the chair across from me.
"Rory," I say. My voice sounds like it’s been dragged through a gravel pit. I extend a hand, then realize how formal it is and pull it back. I settle for gesturing to the empty chair. "Thanks for coming."
She doesn't take off her coat, just loosens the belt.
"Mia said you were in a jam," she says, leaning back. She doesn't order coffee. She doesn't look at the menu. She just looks at me, those blue eyes scanning my face.
"The team wants me settled," I say, leaning forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. I try to find that crisp professional voice, the one I use for agents and reporters, but it comes out too thin, almost lost in the atmosphere between us.
Rory gives a steady, deliberate bob of her chin. "And in exchange, I get my mother to stop trying to marry me off to every unattached man she comes across."
Just hearing her say it, the notion of her being linked to someone else, someone who isn't me, lights something wild and unhinged in my chest. But I swallow it, all of it, and keep my focus. “It’s a win-win for both of us.”
“We need to discuss the terms,” she continues, and I should be relieved she’s discussing this like a business transaction, but the last thing I feel for Rory Fox is business.
"It’s simple," I agree. My throat feels tight. I’m looking at the way her collarbone shifts when she speaks. I am realizing, with the suddenness of a blindside hit, that pretending to date Rory Fox is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Because I don't want to pretend. I want her more than I want my next breath. Fucking hell. That hit I took in practice this morning must’ve scrambled my brain way the fuck more than I thought it had. “We go on dates and pretend to be madly in love for a few months. Then we stage a break-up and go our separate ways.” Not fucking happening.
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a pen. It’s a cheap plastic thing, but she holds it like a scepter. She signs the bottom of the agreement with a flourish. "Great. Now, about the story. How did we meet?"
I shift in my seat. “Let’s keep it simple. Mia introduced us.”
Rory tilts her head, a stray lock of hair falling over her eye. I have the sudden, violent urge to reach out and tuck it back. I keep my hands gripped around my coffee cup instead. “That’ll work. When do you want to start our little charade?”
I watch her draw in a deep breath and nearly groan out loud as my cock grows hard in my jeans. I must look like a fucking idiot just staring at her. I force my brain back to business, but really, my only business right now is her.
“Tomorrow night,” I say, locking eyes with her. Her lips twitch, and damn if I don’t want to see what they feel like smashed against mine. “The Right Spot Bistro is the perfect place for us to be seen together.”
She nibbles her bottom lip, and my pulse skyrockets. “Sounds like a plan.” She grabs my cup and brings it to her lips for a sip. “Yuck.” She grimaces and sets it back down. “I can’t believe you take it that sweet.”
“You don’t take sugar in your coffee?” I smirk and reach for my cup.
“Not that much.” She laughs as I tap my phone, open to her contact, and hand it over. “Put your address in so I can pick you up tomorrow night.”