Page 8 of Home Run Fiancé
Placing the napkin on my plate, I push away from the table. “Excuse me, please.”
Without waiting for an answer, I leave the room and find my way to the bathroom. I don’t really need to make a visit, but even just a precious minute or two away from Jake’s stare feels necessary.
When I walked in the door, I expected to be meeting a parent needing a babysitter for their young child or a puppy that needed watching and walking. What I didn’t expect was a tall, broad-shouldered hulk of a man with brooding eyes that saw too much with one glance. His face looked harsh, maybe because of the dark, thick beard, or maybe it was the constant line between his eyebrows, or maybe from the tight line of his lips. Either way, he didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat.
And then Asher had thrown out his ridiculous idea and I wasn’t sure if he was joking. When I realized he was serious, I bailed, wanting no part of keeping company with that Jake guy. I should have guessed my refusal would just spur Jake on to be a bigger jerk. Guys like him can’t stand to be told no. Like waving a red flag in front of a bull. He charged alright. Right into an insulting tirade of all the conditions I had to meet to go through with this farce.
He’s so far gone in that bloated head of his, he actually thinks he’s doing me some kind of favor with this stupid idea. Thing is, I don’t need his money. I’m doing just fine on my own. And I certainly don’t want to take time away from growing my business, but I got caught in my web of lies.
Asher had gone by the coffee shop this morning and asked Charlotte why I wasn’t there. She probably panicked, not wanting to spill the secret that I’d quit. Instead, she told him they cut my hours and now Asher’s concerned about my income. I said yes to this fake relationship just to keep my lies from being uncovered and to help out Asher.
“Girl, you gotta just tell him and stop with the lying…” I mutter to myself as I wash my hands, staring at myself in the mirror.
A loud bang on the door makes me jump and splash water all over my dress. Because why would even one thing go right tonight.
“You okay in there, sweetheart?” Jake’s deep voice booms through the wood door.
Dread fills my stomach as I dry my hands and roll my eyes. The next month or two is going to be a massive test of my patience and acting skills. As gorgeous as that man is, he’s also the most unattractive man I’ve met recently. He puffs up his chest like he’s trying to intimidate with his size, which is a seriously lame thing to do to a woman. And don’t even get me started on those tight jeans. Can’t he afford a new pair that doesn’t have so many holes?
I yank the door open and he nearly falls into the small room, catching himself just before he plows into me.
“It’s Rhys. And I’m just fine, thank you for your concern.” I swoop past him and toss over my shoulder, “It’s all yours.”
Asher’s sitting on the couch in the living room, several sheets of paper laid out on the coffee table.
“Oh good. I want to go over the contract with you.” He motions for me to sit next to him. “I promise I went through this line by line to make sure you’re protected. But if there’s something you want to add, just tell me.”
I glance over the contract, trusting Asher to do right by me, but also knowing I need to be very careful with Jake. I wouldn’t put it past him to screw me over if I don’t follow the contract to the letter.
Just as Jake walks back into the living room, I see a glaring hole in the contract.
“We need to add a line about only calling each other nicknames in public and never in private.” As I finish the sentence I look up at Jake, raising an eyebrow so he’ll know exactly why I want that in the contract. I’m rewarded with a twitch of the lips.
Without breaking eye contact, Jake comes over and squeezes onto the couch next to me, his whole side pressed against me. “I have a few things to add too.”
“Well, of course you do.” I smirk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The line between his eyebrows is back.
“Oh, nothing. Please, be my guest. What would you like to add?” I smile, already working on my acting skills.
“Asher, I think we need to include some details about the dates that will be required. Just so we’re all on the same page.”
Asher starts writing things down. “Good point. Let’s say three dates will be necessary before you become engaged?”
Jake starts stroking his beard with his hand and there’s something decidedly sensual about it. I squirm, seated between the two of them, wondering what is going on with me. Here we are scripting our dates and planning my engagement in a contract my brother is writing up, like the whole thing is simply a business transaction yet it’s bizarrely intimate at the same time. The whole thing is a bit surreal and a whole lot crazy.
“Three sounds good. How about dinners at The Ivy, Catch LA, and how about Craig’s? That should get a ton of pics in the gossip rags.”
That sounds awful. “Hold on. How about I get to pick one of the dates?”
Asher nods thoughtfully. “That’s fair. Okay, so let’s do The Ivy for your first date, then Rhys picks the second, and then Craig’s for the third date?”
I glance over at Jake and he’s looking at me like I have something up my sleeve. Funny thing is, I don’t. I have no idea where to take a famous athlete on a date. That’s about as far from my reality as taking Prince Harry out on a date. Pre-Meghan, of course. I wouldn’t touch him now that he’s married. I sputter, trying to hold in my giggle. Thinking of dates with princes and famous athletes is just crazy.
Asher clicks his pen repeatedly, focused on getting the contract just right. “That will take us to the engagement. Where do you want to do that?”
“Why don’t—”
