Page 126 of Fake Married to the Grumps

“I’m fine,” she whispers. “I just needed a minute to think about how absurd your proposal is.”

I’m relieved to hear her speaking so calmly.

“You need me? For a little while?” She scoffs and folds her arms across her chest. “What for? What do you need that a wife could possibly get you? And why don’t we pretend to be engaged till the frenzy dies? Why do we need a fake marriage?”

I sigh and lower my eyes. “I need my club and my team to think I’ve changed. I need them to see me as someone other than the rude playboy they’re used to. They don’t know me, Gracie. Not as well as you and Jace do. All they see is a selfish, rude prick who doesn’t care about anyone but himself and basketball.”

“And are you?” she challenges, lifting her chin like she’s going to fight me on this.

“You know me, Gracie. I’m cocky, yes, and even stubborn, but I’m not a bad guy … Not like the media paints me out to be. You know me. I need them to take this seriously and a simple engagement is something I can wriggle myself out of, but marriage … Especially for someone with my reputation among the ladies? It’ll be hard to believe and yet so redeemable.”

Gracie’s lower lip quivers as she looks at me for a long time. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, not when her full lashes guard her eyes like this.

“What you’re saying is, you’ve screwed up so bad, and now you need good, innocent Gracie to swoop in and make you look better? Is that it? And why should I help you look good? You’re not exactly the kind of guy who will fool anyone into thinking he’s in love. You don’t even believe in the word. You think it’s a childish tale from a kid’s storybook. How do you intend to convince your club and everyone else that you’re in love with me?”

Honestly, I think that will be the easiest thing to do. I’ll have better luck convincing people I am in love with Gracie than a shot at scoring the winning basket at the NBA finals.

A game is always one of luck and chance. You go prepared and play your part, but the outcome is never guaranteed.But with Gracie, I’ve always known the outcome of wanting her like this, and I try my best to prevent it.

“I think we can pull it off,” I answer as I smile and lean into her to prove my point.

“How?” Her voice is a low whisper this time, and the lines at the corners of her eyes tighten. Despite the temptation to taste her lips, I have no intention of kissing Gracie.

I’ve never allowed myself the luxury of touching her because I know that I’ll never be able to stop.

“All we need to do … All we need to always do is stare into each other’s eyes,” I murmur and lift a hand to touch her chin because I can allow myself to do that at least.

Gracie sucks in a deep breath, and the feel of her warm breath on my face is enough to push me towards the brink.

“Look into your eyes,” she drawls, sighing as my fingers tease her smooth skin. “That’s all we need to do?”

“That’s all we need to do,” I repeat and let my lids flutter close. The door bursts open and stops the reins of my control from snapping.

Jace’s vibrant voice reverberates in the air around us, causing us to suddenly separate as if we have been caught stealing.

***

Thankfully, we spring apart before Jace notices anything. Gracie hurries out of the kitchen to greet her brother. I haven’t seen Jace in a long time, not since his last visit to Washington over a year ago.

But we always keep in touch, like brothers.

We shake hands as he laughs, then hug each other. “Good to see you, man,” I say to him as we exit the kitchen together and take a spot in the café.

“Feels good to be back, yeah?” Jace laughs. “I had to make it to town to see you for the weekend. Everyone’s raving about the return of the basketball god.”

There’s never a dull moment when Jace is around, and our friendship of over eighteen years is still going strong. When he looks around and spots his sister stealing glances in our direction, I clear my throat and meet his eyes.

“How did she take it when she saw you the first time?” he asks, eyeing me closely. Jace’s question instantly reminds me of the night I turned Gracie down.

My best friend, who knew me better than anyone else, also knew that I could never give his sister the life she deserves.

You know it as well as I do that Gracie likes you. She’s my sister, dude. You mess with her; you mess with me. So don’t even think about it.

His curious eyes remain locked on me as he awaits my reply.

“She was pretty shocked,” I reveal with a smile. “But she’s taking it well.”

“That’s good to know,” he says, tapping his fingers on the table while smiling. “So, why do you have that look on your face?”

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