Page 62 of Faking Romance

“I dated a woman accustomed to a certain lifestyle,” I correct her because my little sister is drastically different aside from the fact that she’s never once made a comment about my music career or where I live. My parents, on the other hand, well, they side with Lydia.

Roxy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she sounds like a real fucking gem.”

“I think you’re a real fucking gem,” I tease, wanting to change the subject because all this talk about my ex is bringing me down. I pull her to me and roll us over, so I hover over her gorgeous body as my eyes look down and back up again. Damn, I owe Al a drink for setting us up.

“You’re drooling,” she says smugly. I grin. I like this side of Roxy when she’s strong-willed and playful. I find it hard to marry with her insecure side but put the two together and she’s just…well, I’m beginning to think she’s pretty damn near perfect.

“I guess I should eat something,” I whisper as I start trailing kisses down her body.

Her hands fly to my hair. Fuck, I love when she tugs on it. I line up with her wet heat and lick my lips.

“Did you read that in a book at my store?” she says, as I run my tongue through her slit and she draws in a sharp breath.

“No, but it sounds like I have some homework to do,” I chuckle against her swollen flesh. If finding hot lines in those romance books is a way to my woman’s heart, it looks like I’m about to start a book club with the guys. Maybe they could use some tips as well.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Roxy

Why am I so nervous? I take a deep, steadying breath for the third time in a minute.

Gray’s hand leaves his stick shift and comes to rest over mine. “Relax. You are a beautiful and successful businesswoman. They will love you.”

I give him side-eye. Why is he so calm? It’s been nearly three weeks since we started dating for real. Although we’ve only been together for a month and a half, if we count our fake-dating time, I feel like we’ve been together forever. For a man who left such a bad first impression, Gray has proven he’s actually a charming, sexy-as-fuck, intelligent, and thoughtful boyfriend. And the sex…is…well, he wasn’t joking about reading all my favorite steamy romance novels and he most definitely took notes.

He's been extra attentive this week because my official grand opening is only a little over a week away, although I’ve been contemplating pushing it back. I’ve been on edge and he offered to cancel our attendance at his father’s birthday party, but I assured him I’d be fine. However, now that we’re almost at his parents’ home, I’m having serious second thoughts.

My leg bounces as I nervously look at the enormous mansions on this tree-lined street. Gray’s hand grips my thigh.

“I can turn around,” he assures me. I glance over at him and shake my head. “I don’t like it when my wifey is nervous.”

His use of the ridiculous nickname makes my lips twitch into a smile. He grins back at me as he pulls up to a house…strike that, an enormous French-manor-house/castle-looking building. When Gray said his father owned an investment firm, I figured they would have a nice home, but this…isn’t a home…it’s an estate.

My eyes widen further as he pulls into a circular drive with a working fountain in the middle of it. Small solar lights line the driveway. The sun is just getting low in the sky, but it’s bright enough to see the rainbow of perfectly manicured shrubs, flowers, and lawn.

“Where’s the gatehouse?” I mutter, mostly to myself.

He chuckles. “I should warn you. The staff miss me. Particularly Leopold, our head of staff,” he states as if every family has a freaking person running their household.

He parks the car and walks around it, opening my door and offering me his hand. I accept it and he pulls me to my feet and against his warm, toned body. He plants a gentle kiss on my lips. “You are better than anyone you will meet in this house tonight. Don’t forget that.”

I start to nod, but the enormous wooden front doors open. If I thought Pierce and Haven’s lake house was extra, it pales in comparison to what awaits me inside this home.

“Come on,” Gray urges me, his voice laced with amusement as he presses his palm to my lower back and ushers me toward an older gentleman at the door. I know it’s not his father because even though Gray doesn’t have a single photo of them in his home, Jocelyn and I internet stalked him. I’ve even seen his ex.

“Leopold, this is my girlfriend, Roxy,” Gray introduces as he walks up to Leopold and hugs him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Leopold says extending a hand to me. I’m half-expecting a British accent and am mildly disappointed when he has a strong New England accent.

We shake and I suddenly feel timid. “Nice to meet you too,” I manage as my hand drops away and I take in my opulent surroundings. Crystal chandeliers, silk-patterned wallpaper, priceless pieces of art, and stone that probably cost more than my entire apartment building surround us.

“This way,” Leopold says as he walks down a long corridor.

We follow and Gray leans toward me. “The less you say, the better,” he suggests.

I frown. Is he embarrassed by me? What about the pep talk he just gave me?

Before I can ask, we’re at double doors that are at least seven feet high. Leopold opens one and motions for us to enter. With a hand pressed to my lower back, Gray leads me inside a formal dining room. A table easily capable of seating twenty people fills the center of the space. It sits upon a woven rug that I assume is antique and foreign. The chairs are dark wood and intricately carved. And a tablecloth made of silk covers the table. It perfectly matches the paint on the walls. A large floral arrangement sits in the center of the table.

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