Page 21 of The Accidental Honeymoon

“Well.” His smile widens. I see now that Jay uses his smile to hide his discomfort. Interesting. He spreads his hands wide. “I’d need you for four months. I know that seems like a long time?—"

“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. "There is no way. I have a business to run! I can't just take off for a few months. And what about my family? My sisters? What would I tell them?”

He leans against the washer and crosses his arms over his chest. "I thought about that. What if I make sure word spreads about your business? Boost your profile, feature your baking skills. You’ll get more exposure than you ever could on your own. And I’ll help you hire someone to fill in while you’re gone."

I bite my lip. The exposurewouldbe huge. Still…. "How will we explain deciding to split up?” I frown, trying to picture it. All I’m getting right now is a very blurry, distorted image.

Jay uncrosses his arms and takes a step toward me. He puts a gentle hand on my arm. "I'll take full responsibility. We'll tell everyone it was an elaborate, humorous stunt. My fans will eat it up. I promise.And….” He raises a finger. “You can tell your sisters that the marriage is fakeifyou can trust them to keep it to themselves."

I focus on a bottle of fabric softener on the shelf instead of the man in front of me. His hand on my arm is making my resistance soften ever so slightly.

This is insane. Completely, utterly insane. No sensible person would agree to what he’s proposing. But is it any more insane than waking up married to a stranger in the first place?

"Come on, gorgeous," Jay says softly. I glance at him just in time to see him get down on one knee. He takes my hand. A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm. "Will you stay fake married to me?"

"I... uh...." My mind is a whirlwind. Part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity. Another part of me is screaming torun for the hills. A chuckle escapes me. "Are you always this persuasive?"

He stands but doesn’t release my hand. "Only with beautiful bakers who accidentally become my wife."

I roll my eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. "Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, you know."

"It’s worth a shot." He shrugs, that easy confidence returning.

There’s a moment of silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. I think about the money that I could make, the exposure that this venture would net me, and the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Can I really do this? Can I pretend to be his wife for a few months and come out unscathed?

Yes? That’s my answer. Yes with a question mark at the end.

"Fine," I say. Jay’s eyes light up and I forestall him with a finger. "Do me a favor. Let’s agree, here and now, that we won’t end up falling in love with each other. I have a bakeryto run. You? Yesterday, you were set to marry another woman."

“Don’t remind me!” He clutches his chest, playing the part of a tragic hero. "I’ll try really hard not to be swept off my feet. It does help that I just got dumped and happen to think love is for suckers."

"That’s reassuring," I say, though a tiny part of me feels a pang of something at his declaration. Disappointment, maybe? It’s too faint for me to tell.

Jay extends his hand and gives me a devilish smile. "Deal?"

My lips twitch with humor. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

I take his hand and we shake. It’s awkward, like neither of us is sure how long to hold on. The handshake morphs into a hesitant hug. I’m hyper-aware of his body against mine. His warmth, his scent. We pull away and for a moment, we just look at each other.

"Okay," I say awkwardly. “Well, I should get home. The cupcakes won’t frost themselves.”

I turn to leave. As I open the door, he says, "Calla."

I pause, not turning back, waiting. My heartbeat sounds like a bass drum in my ears.

"Thank you," Jay murmurs.

I step outside into his house, nerves jangling. But for the moment, I have the feeling that everything might just be okay.

eight

CALLA

You knowwhat no one warns you about? Hangovers getting worse as the day goes on. I don’t have much experience with heavy drinking. But you’d think people would talk about this part more.

My apartment is on the town square, above my bakery shop You Butter Believe It. It is accessed through its own door at the back of the building, though you can get into the bakery that way too.

I drop my keys twice as I try to jam them in the lock. “Seriously?”

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