Page 32 of Just (Fake) Married
I gasped like he’d insulted my mother.
“If you would just tell me what I fucking did to you in that closet, I can apologize and we can move on from this.”
Except I couldn’t tell him. How he kissed me like his life depended on it. How he showed me what kissing was supposed to be. The way he pushed me up against those shelves and rubbed that big dick of his against me.
Stop thinking about his big dick.
“Forget the past. Look at us now,” I told him. “Anytime we’re in each other’s space, there is tension. Because we don’t like each other.”
“Is that a requirement for a fake marriage?” he asked. “Look, I can put down my weapons if you put down yours. I don’t give a shit about this feud, but I want my family to be able to stay on the land. If for no other reason than Carter’s kids.”
“Don’t use children to guilt me into this,” I said, pointing a finger in his face. Except he looked at it like he wanted to suck it into his mouth.
“Fine, what do you want?”
“I just want to save the town. It’s not just your family’s legacy. This is our home. Our livelihood is at risk. All of ours.”
“Then a truce,” he said. “We’ve only ever known each other as kids. As an adult, you’ll see I’m a nice guy. I’m sure you’re a nice woman…”
“I’m sure…That’s not very truce like,” I said. “We’re not even fake married and you’re blowing it.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. A truce. For our families.”
“Maybe,” I said. It was my nature to believe in people, to want to make things better for everyone around me, but him? I didn’t trust him. I wanted some fallback insurance. “But if it’s going to be you, then I have some conditions.”
“Great,” he said. “Let’s hear them.”
“I’m not sure what they are yet. I’ll get back to you.”
He gaped at me for a second and then burst out laughing. “You know,” he said, “if it wasn’t for the fact that your last name is Calloway and mine is McGraw, I think we could be friends.”
“Friends,” I said, like I’d never heard the word before.
“Why not?” he said. “We’ve been enemies for years, let’s try being friends.”
I studied him. His fine features and blue eyes. I’d always imagined myself married to a guy who smiled. A big warm teddy bear of a guy, and here I was about to marry the living, breathing personification of a scalpel. One that had already sliced me.
I wasn’t losing this town. I loved my home. I’d do anything for it.
Including marrying Ethan McGraw. Unfuckingbelievable.
“But what about making it look real?” I said. “That’s part of the deal, right? We have to sell an epic love story for the locals.”
“So?” he said, like that was no big deal.
“So?” My voice squeaked.
“You don’t think we can sell that we love each other?”
“No!” I laughed.
“That we like each other.”
“Really doubtful.”
He took a step forward, right up into my space. I had to hold my breath or my breasts would touch his chest.
“That we want each other?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that disoriented me. I was angry a second ago, adamant about something. Now I just wanted him to keep talking to me like that. That low whisper. The deep murmur. I wanted him to call me a good girl and…
