Page 17 of Faking It With the Single Dad

I shift uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how awkward this is. “I need to talk to you about…your proposal.”

His eyebrows lift. “My proposal? Oh, you mean the fake relationship arrangement I mentioned?”

I nod, unable to meet his gaze.

He stares at me momentarily, then lets out a low whistle. “Wow. I didn’t think you’d show up for this.”

“I don’t have a choice,” I say, my cheeks heating up. “The bank is taking my café. I don’t know what else to do.”

His face softens a little, but he still looks unsure. “So you’re here because you’re desperate.”

Ouch.

“Yes,” I admit. “I’m desperate. But that doesn’t mean I’m not serious about this.”

He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. “This isn’t a joke, Bella. If we do this, we have to make people believe it. Everyone will think we’re in love and planning a future together. Are you ready for that?”

“I don’t have any other options. You said this could help both of us.”

He watches me for a long moment, his face hard to read. Then he sighs. “Alright. Let’s talk about the rules.”

We move to the living room. This room is also huge and fancy, with big windows and furniture that looks like no one’s ever used it. Everything about it makes me feel like I don’t belong here.

Ryan starts laying out his terms. “I’ll take care of the money,” he says. “You and Luke won’t have to worry about anything.”

“And what do you want from me?”

“You have to act like my fiancée,” he says. “We must make everyone believe this is real. And no feelings,” he adds after a pause. “This is just business.”

“Okay.”

“And this won’t last forever,” he continues. “Six months. After that, we’ll break it off and return to our normal lives.”

“Fine.”

The talk is tense and uncomfortable. Neither of us says more than we need to, and every word feels heavy. By the time we finish, I’m exhausted.

Ryan walks me to the door, his face still unreadable.

“This will work.”

I nod, even though I’m not sure either of us believes it.

Chapter Six

Ryan

Bella sits across from me at the café, her forehead creased in frustration as she stirs her coffee absently. She’s been quieter than usual, which is certainly cause for concern.

“Alright,” I say, leaning forward, “what’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because you’ve been scowling for a while now.”

She sighs and sets her spoon down with a soft clink. “It’s the apartment situation. Luke and I need to find a new place soon, but it’s impossible. Everything decent is either ridiculously expensive or has a waiting list a mile long.”

“How bad are we talking?” I ask, though I already know Cedar Ridge’s rental market isn’t exactly generous.

Her lips press into a thin line. “Roger—the apartment agent—showed me a place yesterday. Two bedrooms, barely any space,old appliances, terrible decor, water stains on the ceiling, and he still has the nerve to ask for $1,800 a month.”

I frown, trying to keep my voice calm. “$1,800? For a dump?”

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