Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“No.”
“When we broke up, I thought he said he was going to give his ex a second chance. It’s likely they got back together and even married. There’s nothing between us, especially not hard feelings. If he’s happily married, I’m glad.”
I got the trunk to pop open and settled his purchases in a safe place so they couldn’t spill as I drove. After I closed the lid, I turned to Simon and once again fiddled with his scarf, making sure that it hadn’t shifted during his outrage.
“You made a point of coming to Findlay Market because you said you wanted to support the small, independent business owners. You also like his soap. Please don’t stop buying from his store because I went out on a few dates with him.”
Simon lifted his eyes to me, a frown still lingering on his face. “Did you like him?”
I shrugged. “Ash is a nice guy, and we had some laughs, but what we had never felt like it would ever be anything more than friendship between us. We went our separate ways, and there were no hard feelings. Please don’t take your jealousy out on Ash. He doesn’t deserve it.”
The young man in front of me grunted. “Fine, but only because you said that he’s married. I guess we’re lucky he didn’t realize what a catch you are. Then I would have to do something horrible to him.”
“Enough, gremlin.” Grabbing Simon’s shoulders, I turned him and pushed him toward the passenger-side door. I opened it for him and held it as he got in, all while trying to ignore the stupid warmth that blossomed in my chest at his words. Insane. I must be going insane.
I drove him the short distance to Music Hall, but he wouldn’t let me get out of the car to help him with his bags, only had me pop the trunk. He darted to get his bags and shut the lid. Yet before he hurried into the building, he stopped by my door and knocked on the window.
As soon as I rolled it down, Simon thrust two of his small wedges of cheese at me. “You need to try these. You’ll love them.” He opened his hand, and I barely managed to catch them.
I turned my face to thank him, and the imp leaned inside the car to capture my mouth in a searing kiss. He broke it off all too quickly and grinned at me. “Thank you for taking me shopping. I had a wonderful afternoon.”
In the blink of an eye, he crossed to the sidewalk and darted inside the building, leaving me sitting in the car, dazed and very fucking confused. That entire shopping trip, he hadn’t snapped a single picture of us together for social media. We really hadn’t discussed my parents or how we could improve our fake-boyfriend cover. We’d just shopped and talked.
Who the fuck was conning whom in this deal?
10
SIMON MILLER
“What the hell is this for?” Liam asked with a laugh as I pulled a bottle of Pinot Noir with a red bow on it out from under the table as he sat down.
“This is a thank-you gift for what you did to help me.”
Liam had agreed to meet me at the same coffee shop where we’d first chatted not that long ago. This was becoming a key spot for me. The owner needed to consider giving me a discount card with the frequency that I was bringing business in for him.
But that wasn’t important. What mattered was Liam’s unexpected help with Pierce.
My friend shrugged, pausing as he slipped out of his winter coat and stuffed it into the empty seat next to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Pierce found himself in a bit of a pickle, and I made an innocent suggestion.”
I laughed so hard I choked on it. “Innocent?”
Liam rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning almost as red as his hair. “Okay, not innocent at all, but even if I didn’t know about your feelings for Pierce, my suggestion for you to help him still would have made the most sense.”
“Regardless, thanks. I really appreciate you having my back.”
Liam made a noncommittal movement with his head as he lifted his green-and-white ceramic mug to his lips and took a sip of his coffee. He looked rather dashing today in a cream-colored sweater and slacks. His dark-red hair was a bit disheveled after he pulled off his knit hat. There was something sweet and boy-next-door about him. It was sometimes a little hard to believe that he actually had a PhD in paleontology and that he gave lectures at the Cincinnati Natural History Museum when I also had clear memories of him swearing like a sailor while playing Mario Kart with Rome. “You’d have a lot more people willing to give you a hand if you told them what’s going on,” he reminded me.