Page 29 of The Wedding Hoax

I should’ve kissed her.

I should’ve let her kiss me.

I should’ve done something other than just stand there like an idiot.

I was pacing up and down my living room as I kept replaying what’d happened back at Simone’s house in my head, again and again. I was trying my best to respect what Simone wanted, but she was making it feel nearly impossible. If she wanted what happened between us to be a one-time thing, why did it seem like she wanted me just as much as I wanted her?

Or maybe that was the problem. She knew that we wanted each other, which meant that she also knew that we’d definitely end up in bed together. Again.

And that would’ve only led to more problems than we already had.

Simone was right.

When it came to being physical, we needed to stay far away from each other. The only path to peace was staying out of each other’s mind and each other’s bed. That way, we could continue with this sham marriage until it was time to call it off and there wouldn’t be any hurt feelings or any harm done.

Besides, I wouldn’t have known what to do with a woman like Simone, anyway.

I wasn’t good at real relationships. And I’d never been good at love.

If any of this was real, I was only going to hurt her.

“Ooh, you look lost in thought.” Simone beamed as she walked through my front door. “Are you thinking about firing someone?”

“Why does everyone think that today?” I shook my head in disbelief. “I’m not firing anyone. There’s nobody’s head on the chopping block.”

“Not yet.” Simone chuckled as she set a box down on a nearby counter. “Keep thinking on it. You’ll come up with a name or two.”

“Wait. Why are you carrying boxes?”

“Because my mom and I are moving into your house? And boxes make it easier to move things from one place to another?”

“No, I meant, why are you personally carrying boxes? I hired a moving service to help with that.”

“They are helping. They’re grabbing stuff out of the trunk right now.”

“But the point is that they grab everything, Simone,” I replied. “And all you have to do is tell them where to put things down.”

“No, I get that. I just figured I might as well help out since I’m here.”

“Unbelievable.” I smirked. “I hope you know I’m not giving you a tip for this. I’m only tipping the crew I hired.”

“I don’t need a tip, but I do need to pick up a few things from the store after this.” She pulled out her phone and began scrolling. “Mom wants to have a seafood dinner tonight.”

“Sounds good. I can have someone come cook for us—”

“I can cook. It’s not a problem,” she cut me off. “I just want to make sure we have everything we need. You have spices, don’t you? Black pepper? Salt?”

“Who doesn’t have salt in their kitchen, Simone?”

“A man who can hire other people to do whatever he wants in the blink of an eye.” She smirked.

“Touché.”

* * *

It was refreshing to have dinner at home.

I’d rarely used my kitchen to cook, and even more rarely hosted guests for a meal. Dinner for me was usually hurriedly eaten at the office or while schmoozing with someone related to the magazine. It was barely a meal that registered on my radar anymore, although that’d been happening to the rest of my daily meals, too.

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