Page 50 of Miami Ice

Another scowl passes over his face, but I know it’s a playful one. I suspect Beckham isn’t nearly as grumpy as he wants people to think he is.

“If you send me a Swiftie playlist, Cupcake, I’m not listening to it.”

Ooh, I so know what I’m doing when I get home tonight,I think wickedly.

“Mm-hmm,” I say. Now that I’ve demolished the whipped cream off my shake, I put the spoon aside and use the straw instead.

“Coming back to the question,” Beckham says, “are you ready for our hard launch?”

“I think so. Sofia said she would send me all the details this week.”

“When are you sending me mine?”

I blink. “What? What details do you need? I’m coming over for dessert with your family.”

Beckham leans forward, resting his hands on the tabletop. “Well, if we’re going to make this look real, shouldn’t I be seen attending your family dinner, too? You’re coming over for pie, according to my sister. I guess that means I should have dinner with you.”

“You … you want to do that?” I ask, my heart racing.

“What a better way to get to know someone than watching how they interact with family?” he says, grinning.

My heart goes from excited to horrified. “That is a terrible idea! My family is weird. My mother alone will exhaust you!”

“Then I definitely need to be there as your backup.”

“I’m a child of divorce. That means two Thanksgiving meals.”

“Excellent. I’ll wear sweats so I have an elastic waist. And I’ll tell Sofia we’ll be over for pie very late.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I say quickly.

“Oh, I know I don’t. But I want to.”

“Why?”

“For you,” he says softly. “I want to do it for you.”

Chapter Thirteen

EllaBella: I still think it’s weird you’re going to look at a house with the Grump this morning.

Chloe With A C Not K: Not that I have a clue what your contract entails or what is standard fake-dating procedure, but since nobody will see you—you know, the whole purpose of this arrangement—I agree with Ella.

Emilee: Georgie, ignore them. WHO CARES ABOUT THE WHY? Beckham is freaking HOT, and I’d follow him to the dry cleaner if he asked me to go with him.

I stare at the messages in my Connectivity group chat and sigh. It’s late on Monday morning, and I’m waiting for Beckham to pick me up so we can look at that house he might buy. And needless to say, my twin, her best friend Emilee, and my best friend Chloe all have opinions about it and have taken time out of their workday to express them.

I put my phone down and take another sip of my coffee. I lean against the kitchen countertop and glance down at Winston, who is happily chewing on his Kong toy on the kitchen floor.

“Do you have any thoughts on this, Winnie?” I ask him.

He stops chewing and looks up at me, cocking his head. I swear he’s grinning at me.

“Is that a smile because you think your mommy is getting in over her head? If so, you’re right.”

Winston goes back to gnawing, determined to work that treat out of the toy. I go back to the truth, which neither my twin nor my friends have hit upon yet.

Beckham asked me because he wanted my company.

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