Page 72 of Lucas
Michelle
I’m sure he eats lunch too. Don’t you two eat together? I bet you can convince him to join.
I toss my phone back in my purse. I could go alone and tell her he’s busy, but she’ll keep nagging and nagging until she meets him. Michelle has always been the type to get her way.
I close my eyes and exhale. I’m going to pay dearly for this request.
Michelle, my friend from college, wants to have lunch with us. Could you join?
It’ll look suspicious if you don’t show up. We’re supposed to be newlyweds.
I add the last part for good measure. Maybe it will lower the price.
Lucas
I thought I was an insufferable bastard.
I smile. Damn it, I’m going to pay for this.
You asked me not to tell anyone, including my friends, about our fake marriage. So I have no choice but to pretend.
There. Shifting the blame onto him is always preferable.
Lucas
Fine. Send me the details.
That’s it? I stare at the screen, searching for hidden meaning. He just agreed? No conditions? No innuendos? No demands for sexual favors? What does this mean?
I enter my office and close the door. The stack of binders from yesterday still awaits me on the desk. I’m dealing with trivial matters like lunch dates and arguments with Lucas when I should be thinking about the real problem. How do I save Gant, and how do I prevent Lucas from seeing these problematic reports?
I sit in my chair and immerse myself in work.
When my alarm rings, signaling it’s time for the lunch meeting, I stand and stretch, massaging my neck and shoulders. My body is stiff from sitting hunched over the documentsfor so long.
“I could help you with that.”
I lift my gaze to find Lucas in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
I slam the binder shut. “What are you doing in my office? Don’t you know how to knock?”
“I know how to knock. Never knocked up anyone, though.” A lazy smile spreads across his face.
“Do you have one thought that’s not sex-related?” I collect my jacket and shrug it on.
“Hmmm. Nope.” He straightens. “Let’s go, wouldn’t want to keep your friend waiting.”
“Insufferable,” I mutter, rounding the desk and advancing toward him. He holds out his hand, and I ignore it.
“Yeah, you mentioned that.” He offers his hand again. “We’re newlyweds, remember? Or would you prefer I put my hand on your ass instead?”
My eyes widen, and the spot between my legs throbs. For one wild second, I imagine what would happen if I let him do it, let him touch me, but I place my hand in his and he grasps it.
This is what he does, what he’s good at. Temptation. I need to remember that when I fall for his trap.
We walk to the nearby restaurant, and I spot Michelle already seated at a table. She stands when she notices us, hugging me, winking, and then hugging Lucas.
I narrow my eyes when their embrace lasts longer than a few seconds and clear my throat.
