Page 10 of His Perfect Woman

“I hope you’ve had a shitty day after what you pulled. You deserve it.” I sucked in a deep breath. When I’d let him in, I had decided to try and be nice. More understanding. This was the opposite of that. “I’m sorry,” I sighed. “That was harsh. Why did you come by?”

“It’s okay. I deserve it.”

“Drink?” I waved my bottle in the air.

“Yes, but...maybe in a glass?”

He laughed a little, but I didn’t. I stormed over to the cabinet and pulled down two glasses, emptying the rest of bottle number two between them.

“I was hoping we could talk,” he explained as I handed his over.

We sat on opposite sides of the kitchen table after I tossed my plate, food and all, into the sink. “I’m listening.”

“I know you’re angry with me about earlier, and I’m sorry. It was a stupid move and I’ve been kicking myself for it almost all day.”

I raised a brow. “Almost?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Until...I had an idea.”

I waited expectantly, but he let his words hang in the air—building suspense. “And!?” I snapped, annoyed.

“And...I was thinking...we keep the lie going. We pretend to be engaged.”

I slammed my glass down on the table with an exasperated growl. “Oh, sure. Great. That’s some idea alright. For you, anyway. It saves your ass, and then what about me?”

“You get a sperm donor, like you were planning to pay for. Only you get him for free and he’s someone you know and trust. And I get a fake wife...like I was planning to pay for. Only this way it will also be someone I know and trust.”

It took me a moment to piece together what he was suggesting, and once I did—I erupted into howling laughter. This time, he was the one not laughing along.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about it,” he shot back, trying not to smirk. “Free sperm donor in exchange for helping me with my image. You did suggest I pay someone to fulfill that role after all, and you were already planning to throw money at your own dilemma. Consider it a well-timed bargain.”

I laughed even harder. It felt like forever before I could catch my breath enough to speak. “There are so many holes in your proposition, I don’t even know where to start.”

I wiped a tear from my eye and saw that Lucas was adamant—still stone-cold and apparently waiting to hear all about said holes.

“For one, you said someone I trust. Which I don’t anymore...not after today.”

“Surely one little lapse in judgment doesn’t override fifteen years of friendship...and all the trust you did hold for me during that time,” he argued.

“Wanna bet? In fact, I think that’s exactly how trust works. One small thing can ruin it, and your thing wasn’t even small.” I almost started rambling again about why what he did was so wrong, but I was tired of trying to make him understand. “Anyway, the whole idea is crazy and absurd. Surely you didn’t think I’d go along with it that easily.”

He reached out across the table and covered my hand with his. His eyes filled with an earnest sincerity I wasn’t used to seeing in them—not since he’d told me about his father passing away, and then again when he admitted to all the money troubles that came along with that.

“I don’t expect anything about this to be easy,” he said, squeezing my hand. I hated the way his touch and voice reverberated straight to my core. “It will be hard work. Just like any other marriage or family. Being parents isn’t easy. But I think we could do it. I think...we’d make a great team.”

I swallowed down a huge lump in my throat and pulled my hand away, tucking it back into the safety of my lap. “You’re serious. And...parents? Plural? As in, you’d want to raise the kid with me?”

“I don’t want either of us giving up our careers, but you were preparing to juggle both. Surely two heads are better than one.”

My lips parted for a defense, but somehow I didn't have one. Not a concrete one that he couldn’t just sweet talk his way through. He was a skilled negotiator and I was too tipsy and exhausted to debate something so huge with him.

“I would have to think about it,” I said finally, amazed that I could even agree to that much.

“Please do.”

We both stood and I was desperate to show him out. I needed the time alone now more than ever. Just as I reached for the door, I was blindsided by him moving in close. Too close. Just as quickly as he had pulled me to his side at the press conference, he cupped my face in his hands and leaned in to kiss me. His lips were soft, but pressed to mine with the perfect amount of firm pressure. He tasted like cinnamon and wine—a horrible sounding combination, but somehow it tasted divine on him. My mouth melted to his, and suddenly everything seemed to stop—even the traffic and distant noises outside. My chest clenched from the lack of air and I still couldn’t breathe by the time he pulled away.

I pressed two fingers to my lips, where his had just been so unexpectedly. “What the hell was that?”

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