Page 12 of Fake Fiancée Bear's Enemies-to-Lovers

“I mean I’ve already instructed my lawyers to handle all of those motions. It’s not a threat and it’s not extortion when you’ve already done it. Now, you have two choices if you want to enjoy smiling without broken teeth. Choice one, you get the hell off this property so I can have my damned meeting.”

I just now notice Madeline looking at me. I want to tell you that I’m not dramatically affected by the look of worship on her face. I want to tell you that but it would be a lie. She looks like she worships me and there is nobody on Earth I want that from more than Madeline.

“The second choice is that we walk to Maddy’s car so you can see her ring and then you get the hell off this property.”

The men look almost pale. The older one of them says, “I… perhaps just a picture of the ring.”

“No. I take it back. You don’t have two choices if you want to enjoy smiling without broken teeth. You have one. Come on. You’re going to see her in her ring and then you’re going to back the fuck away until you get a copy of the marriage license.” I look at Maddy and say, “Come here, Honey,” in the same stern voice.

Yeah, I do that because it kind of turns me on to take charge of her.

She hurries to me and I take hold of her hand. I don’t exactly drag her along to her car but I can promise you that we’re not just walking next to each other and holding hands. I guess I’m enjoying being in charge of her since I have some leverage at the moment.

And, I can’t lie, I enjoy the feel of her hand in mine.

“I don’t care what these idiots say, Honey,” I say just loud enough for them to hear but just quiet enough to pretend it’s not intentional. “You keep your ring safe all you want.”

I pull open the door and then pop open the glove compartment. She sees the little velvet bag and immediately reaches for it. She puts it on and her eyes get really wide. It’s abeautiful ring. Twenty-five grand will do that. The fact that I just put it in her glove compartment makes it a surprise. Of course, they need to think she’s worn it and seen it before.

“I love how you’re always delighted at the sight of it, Honey,” I say.

Then I kiss her.

Yes, I’m taking advantage of the situation. What can I say? I’m only human.

And bear.

So, I’m taking advantage of the situation but I can’t help myself at all. This girl is more than any man or bear deserves and even if she’s a spoiled brat, I’ll take what I can get.

And at the moment, what I can get is her kissing me back!

I swear it takes restraint to keep myself from climbing in the backseat with her. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, obviously, with the men present. The kiss is beautiful but I cut it off and then take hold of her wrist and hold out her hand to the men. “It’s not as ritzy as you guys are used to, I’m sure, but it’s none of your business. She wanted one sone in a tiffany setting and you don’t get a say.”

They look at each other and I notice the contractor behind them. “Now get the hell off Miss Charles property so we can meet with our contractor.” I don’t wait for them to answer but kiss Madeline’s cheek and walk toward the contractor. She doesn’t speak to the men as they walk away.

Well, I cut through all of the contractor’s bullshit about what he’s able to do and he admits the problem with the insulation is a supply issue and delays from getting the right stuff in. There are some workarounds with proper additives. I negotiate with Maddy paying for half of the cost of that and him eating the other half for not being upfront about things.

And the conversation puts everything on track.

Of course, once the contractor is gone, Maddy finds a reason to call me an asshole and I find a reason to call her a spoiled brat. When we part ways, I’m pretty pissed off and so is she.

So, it’s only natural when she shows up at my house that evening that I think she’s there to fight.

Chapter Eight

Madeline

When he opens the door, the sight of him is enough to make me feel weak. “Madeline,” he says.

“Maddy, please,” I say. Yeah, the words are silent. I clear my throat and say, “Maddy. Please. Call me Maddy.”

He smiles slightly, tentatively. He thinks I’m here to fight. Maybe I am. I keep going back and forth between wanting to strangle him and wanting him to kiss me. “Hello, Maddy. Would you like to come in?”

I nod but still just stand there until he actually offers me his hand and then leads me inside like I’m a child who needs an adult to hold my hand when I walk somewhere. He leads me in and once I’m in, I say, “I… do you… I just… Do you really think I’m a spoiled cunt?”

I expect him to react either angrily or very sympathetically. Instead, he seems almost stern. “Maddy,” he says, “you used that word, not me. I said you’re a spoiled brat. Maybe that’s not very nice but I would never call you acunt. You did that.”

He’s right, of course. How do I just miss that somehow? How do I convince myself otherwise? “I don’t know why,” I say.

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