Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Her brows shoot up. “Plural?”
“Plural,” I murmur, playing up the seduction in my voice as I add, “Two in the main bedroom and one in each of the others. You can have two if you need them. I like clothes, but not enough to fill up more than one closet.”
She fans herself with her free hand. “I may need to sit down. This closet porn talk is doing things to me.”
I laugh and instantly fall a little harder. If there’s anything better than a beautiful woman with a sense of humor, I can’t name it. “Come on over here and sit down then, woman,” I say, motioning toward the line of chairs bolted to the wall. “Take a load off, while I fetch the little princess her chips. We’re doing all the chips that end in O, right?”
“Yeah,” she says, settling into the closest hard plastic seat. “I would tell you to let me buy them, but I already know you wouldn’t, and my feet are killing me in these stupid heels. A change of clothes can’t come into my life fast enough. In all the rush, I left mine folded up in the kitchen at the hotel.”
“I hear that. It’s always good to get the uniform off. But in the meantime…” I drape my suit coat around her bare shoulders, fighting the inappropriate urge to drop a kiss to the top of her head. Something about this woman brings out my sappy side as strongly as my stalker one. “And you’re right about the chips. See? Look how much we’ve learned about each other in an hour and change. Give us three days, and we’ll totally be ready to tie the knot.”
“The fake knot,” she whispers, a hint of sadness in her tone.
I pause, taking a mental step back.
I haven’t asked Elly about her views on the sacredness—or lack thereof—of marriage. I haven’t even stopped to think about it. I’ve been so focused on the end game, I’ve charged in like I was chasing down a loose puck in the crease, blind to everything but the chance to score.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sinking down beside her. “I didn’t mean to make light of marriage or commitment or anything like that. If you have strong religious views or—”
“Oh, no, I know. It’s fine,” she says, with a smile that looks forced. “I know you didn’t mean anything like that. And I don’t have strong religious views, I’m just…” She lets out a shaky breath and curls both hands around her coffee, gazing down into the light brown liquid as she adds, “I’m just a sap, I guess. A romantic, even though no one’s given me a reason to be.”
And that’s it.
The moment I go completely off the deep end.
Because suddenly I know I’m going to do everything in my power to give her a reason. Even if this is fake, even if it’s not forever. Because she deserves it.
I reach out, resting a gentle hand on her knee, where those ridiculous fishnets are digging into her skin. “It might not be romance, but I have a hell of a lot of respect for you, Eloise, and I don’t even know your last name. It’s not often in life that you meet someone who makes the kind of first impression you do.”
“Thibodeaux. Eloise Thibodeaux.” Her voice is thicker as she adds, “And that means a lot. It really does. Thank you.”
She rests her coffee-warm hand on top of mine, and suddenly it’s all I can do not to turn my palm over and thread my fingers through hers. I want to kiss this woman more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time, but I also want to hold her hand.
The inner voice whispers something about this being the most dangerous game I’ve ever played, but I ignore it.
The only thing I want to hear right now is Eloise Thibodeaux saying “yes.”
“It’s not like we’d have to stay fake married forever,” I add softly as I turn my hand, my heart jerking in my chest as she curls her fingers around my palm. “I’ll have to check the insurance rules with HR, but I’m pretty sure being married a year or so would be enough to ensure you’d have protection after we divorced. COBRA coverage should kick in at that point and give you a little more breathing room if you need it. And I’d be happy to pay for it.”
“After a year of living rent-free, I’m sure I wouldn’t need you to do that, Grammercy,” she says, the fact that she’s even entertaining the scenario a sign of how far we’ve come. “I’m a hard worker and a good saver. I’m not in this position because I’m lazy or careless, I promise.”
“I would never think either of those things about you, Elly. Neither would anyone else.”