Page 20 of Accidental Fake Billionaire

There was some reason I wasn’t supposed to take her clothes off. It was hard to remember what that was.

But at least I was starting to remember some important things again. A little while ago, Jessie had to tell the taxi driver my address to get me home. The information had just fallen out of my head and drifted away.

This is why I never took drugs, and rarely had more than two drinks. Feeling this weak and out of control was positively disgusting.

As I looked into Tara’s eyes, there was something wrong. It took me a minute to put a finger on it. “Baby, why are those magical eyes a bit red?”

Her eyes snapped shut and she shook her head.

Holding her tightly against me, I rubbed her back. ?

??Gorgeous, did someone make you cry? Tell me who it is so I can go kick their ass.”

My head tilted sideways as I inhaled her light apple shampoo, her warmth, her sweetness. “Let me be a good boyfriend for you. Tell me what to do.”

Tara sat up straighter, turning to face me. She took my hands, holding them between us. “Jared, how did you get hurt? What happened?”

“Pfft,” I shrugged. “I was sixty stories in the sky all last week, without a scratch. No problem. This afternoon, I was walking through the construction area, and some pieces of rebar fell from two stories above me.”

“Oh my God,” Tara squeaked, cupping my face in her hands. “Jared, what if it had hit you in the head?”

“Hard hat,” I grinned, tapping my noggin. “And steel toe boots. And high visibility gear. We just don’t go around wearing shin pads.”

“Is it bad?” she asked, examining the bandages on my arm, then my leg. “Will you be able to walk?”

My mouth darted forward to catch her lips against mine for a long, delicious kiss. My hands caressed her everywhere I could reach to bring us together until she pulled away a bit.

“Twenty-one stitches in my leg and a fresh tetanus shot,” I said. “The arm is just scraped up a bit. I wouldn’t have even taken the painkillers, but Jessie and the nurse sort of talked me into it.”

“So, you’re going to be okay?” she asked again hopefully.

“Of course. I’m just supposed to stay off it for a couple of days so that I don’t stretch the skin too much while it’s healing.” My thumb drifted along her cheek. “Is that why you were crying, baby? Because you heard I got hurt?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. Let’s talk about what I can make you for dinner.”

Taking a few slow breaths, I tried to figure out what her strained tone meant. She hadn’t been planning to have dinner with me here. Then I remembered.

“I was supposed to pick you up,” I said, taking her hands again. “Tara, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Dammit,” I muttered. “And it was really important, too.”

“Where would we have been going?” she asked, looking up as she fluttered her eyelashes at me.

“I was going to take you to a building opening. And it’s one of the buildings I made.” My words weren’t quite coming out smoothly, but she looked interested.

“What do you mean, you made the building?” she asked carefully. “Did your company make it?”

“Yes. Vincent Frostwell Construction. I’m a crane operator. I get to operate some of the coolest equipment ever. I can’t wait to show you.”

Something looped in the back of my mind, as if trying to remind me of something specific, something important.

Tara cocked her head, staring into my eyes, then released a long, low sigh. “All right. Some things are starting to shift into place.”

“I’ve got it,” I said, snapping my fingers but missing. “There was something I needed to tell you very carefully.”

Her soft fingers slipped up the back of my neck to swirl along the stubble at the back of my hairline. “What did you need to tell me? I bet it’s something that I really want to hear.”

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