Page 29 of Reckless King

My brain ticks over. “And you think a fake girlfriend will somehow convince the world you’re now responsible and committed?”

He nods, eyes still fixed on me. It’s disconcerting, but then I’ve always found being the focus of Tate’s attention a little too disconcerting for my liking. “Why me? There must be any number of women who would be more than interested in dating you.”

“Because I don’t need a real girlfriend. I need a fake girlfriend. A woman I already have a connection with so that it won’t appear to come out of the blue. A woman for whom this will be a simple business transaction.” He arches one brow, his amusement returning. “Maybe a woman who doesn’t even like me, who won’t catch feelings.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Because you’re such an amazing guy that any woman would fall for you if they spend more than one night by your side?”

He laughs, completely unfazed by my tone. “Something like that.”

That I’m still sitting here has me questioning my sanity. Pretending to date Tate is a terrible idea. But I can see the logic. Kind of. “So how long do you think it will take tomanage the narrative?”

He shrugs. “It’s hard to say. A couple of months. Maybe more. We could add a term extension into the contract if needed.”

A contract. Right. And I’ve yet to discover what the other side of this arrangement would entail. “Explain to me what I would get for pretending to be certifiably insane for two or more months.”

His mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. “Insane?”

“How else would you describe someone who would actually fall for your…” I wave my finger in his direction.

“Charm? Good looks? Sexual prowess?” he offers.

I cock my head and give him a sweet smile. “Huge ego.”

He tips his head back and laughs, and it’s impossible to stop myself from staring at the strong column of his throat. Memories of pressing my lips there as I writhed on his lap force their way into my head. I squeeze my eyes shut and will them away. Still, my cheeks burn, and arousal coils low in my belly. When I focus on Tate again, he’s no longer laughing. His gaze is hot and intent and fixed entirely on me.

How red is my face right now? Does he know why?

“For pretending like you can’t get enough of my huge… ego.” His smirk returns, and I roll my eyes. “I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars.”

My heart stalls, then shoots into overdrive. Before I can open my mouth to respond, his next words shut me up completely.

“Per month.”

I sag back in my chair, my racing pulse making me lightheaded. One hundred thousand dollars minimum. More if the fake relationship continues for longer than two months. That would be life changing. I could invest it all back into True Brew. Buy new equipment, hire additional staff, get the place back to the way it should be.

It seems too good to be true.

A niggling suspicion makes me sit upright again. I grip my fingers together. “Mark isn’t behind this, is he?” I know he’d like to help, but regardless of how well the King Group pays him, I refuse to drain his savings in the event that I can’t make this work.

The corners of Tate’s eyes crinkle, as if he’s suppressing a smile. “If you think he would willingly suggest you date me, fake or not, you don’t know your brother very well.”

A laugh reluctantly breaks free. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You know he warned me away from you before we even met?”

“He did?”

“Sat me down and gave me a very serious talking-to about how his baby sister was off-limits.”

Warmth spreads through me, and I can’t help but smile. “That sounds like him.” Which begs the question. “How do you think he’ll respond to this arrangement?”

Tate leans forward, scanning my face. “Does that mean you’re agreeing to it?”

“I…” Glancing around the quiet coffee shop, I remember how it looked a few short years ago when Dad was still with us. Back when it buzzed with energy and was filled with the chatter of happy customers. I look back at Tate. “I have stipulations.”

The wolfish grin that spreads across his face has nervous butterflies taking flight in my stomach.

What am I getting myself into?

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