Page 5 of A Bride for the Bodyguard

We slide into a red vinyl booth by the window, and Jack doesn’t hesitate to place an order. “Two coffees, please. Black.”

Normally, I’m annoyed when men order for me without asking. But for some reason, with Jack, it’s different. It’s weirdly…hot. He nailed it, too—black coffee, just how I like it.

“You got it. Two black coffees coming right up,” waitress chirps before bustling off.

Then it’s just Jack and me, and that ‘date’ feeling intensifies.

“So,” I begin, trying to sound confident. “Tell me more about your plan to give me a million dollars to become your insta-wife.”

I meant to say the words like they were a joke. But Jack doesn’t laugh. Instead, he just says, “Is that your price? A million dollars?”

The question catches me off guard. But before doubt can set in, I nod. “Yep, that’s my price.” Then I quickly add in, “and a new storefront for my macaroon business.”

Jack’s smirk widens into a full blow grin. “Deal.”

I blink at him. “Wait. You’re really offering me a million dollars to be your wife?”

“If that’s what it takes, then yes.” Jack winks at me playfully. “You should probably work on your negotiation skills, though. I would’ve given you two million if you’d asked.”

Is this guy for real?

“But why me?” The question tumbles out before I can snatch it back.

An unreadable expression crosses Jack’s face. “Why not you?”

I swallow hard, trying to push down the insecurities that bubble up inside me.

Jack is undeniably handsome, a fact that hasn’t escaped the notice of every female patron in this diner. Their longing glances and fluttering eyelashes are as clear as day, and I can’t help but wonder why he’d ever choose to fake marry me over them.

But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I say, “Jack, we don’t even know each other.”

“Then we’ll get to know each other.” His heated gaze rakes over me in a way that makes my breath hitch. “Isn’t that what all couples do?”

I swallow hard. “I-I guess so.”

The waitress returns then, setting down our coffees with a clink. I wrap my hands around the mug, letting the heat seep into my palms as I consider Jack’s words.

Six months out of culinary school and every penny I’d earned had gone into Macaroons by Marlie, my sweet little dream on wheels. Now, with it gone, owning a brick-and-mortar shop feels like a distant fantasy. Yet here he is, offering it to me on a silver platter.

Jack studies me, his blue eyes sharp and discerning. There’s a shift in the air between us, a spark of something that might just be possibility—or insanity. I can’t decide which.

“I... I’m not making any promises.” I force a swallow past the tightness in my throat. “But I’ll think about it.”

Jack’s lips curve into a confident and somehow knowing smirk, as if he’s already won this round.

Without asking, he reaches across the table and takes my phone from where it lies next to the salt shaker. He holds it up to my face to unlock it, then his fingers dance across the screen.

“Here,” he says as he hands it back to me. “Now you have my number. Think it over tonight and let me know tomorrow.” Then his voice drops a full octave. “I promise that if you say yes, you won’t regret it.”

“Ugh, you won’t believe the kind of day I’ve had,” I say into my phone, pacing the length of my tiny apartment. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I press the phone to my ear, waiting for my twin sister’s response.

Melanie’s voice chirps through with a tinge of excitement that only someone living a thousand miles away in the tranquility of Wyoming could have. “What happened?”

“Some guy blew up my dessert cart this morning!”

Melanie gasps. “Seriously?”

“Yep. But that’s not all,” I continue. “Afterward, he sort of...” I trail off, not sure how to even broach the subject.

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