Curvy Fake Wife for the Player Read Online Piper Sullivan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
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She stared wide-eyed at the stack of cash on the counter. “That seems like too much.”

I frowned. “You said a few thousand.”

“It’s called hyperbole,” she shot back, her gaze darted between me and the cash.

“I don’t know how much a changing table costs. Or even diapers. Take it and get everything you can with it.” Another thought occurred to me. “Do you have a car?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. That’s good. Get what’ll fit in your car and Barry will help you when you return.” I slid my phone across the counter. “We need to be able to contact each other.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “If you’re sure?”

“I am. This is all new to me so this probably won’t be the last time I piss you off.” I flashed what I hoped was a charming smile.

“Duly noted,” she replied with the barest hint of a smile. “As long as you know that pretty smile won’t stop me from calling you out when it’s necessary.”

My smile grew brighter at her words. “I expect nothing less.”

She gave a sharp nod and scanned the room until she found her purse, shoved the money inside and slipped out the door.

It doesn’t matter how hot and sassy she is. She’s the nanny and I’m staying out of trouble. That’s what I told myself but I had a feeling that once again, trouble would find me.

Chapter 6

Sasha

With the money Alex gave me to shop for baby necessities I could have gone shopping in any of the luxury boutiques that lined the small streets, or stopped at River Oaks. Dixie would have everything she needed, only with a big price tag. Instead, I drove a little past the boutiques and luxury vehicles and stopped at one of those big box baby stores. I’d be able to get more of what she needed for the same money, plus a few extras.

And since I was here on my own, I didn’t need to ask anyone’s permission. Forgiveness? Maybe, but that was a worry for another time. For now, I grabbed the biggest shopping cart they had and picked up one of those handheld devices that would allow me to scan the bigger items without hauling them around the store.

It was odd, doing this kind of shopping on my own, like I was someone’s mother picking up necessities to make my life easier. Technically all of that was true, except the part where I was Dixie’s mother. It was good practice anyway, just in case one day I actually had kids, and a family of my own. This job wasn’t conducive to a successful relationship, which meant someday I would have to choose between my career and my future. It wasn’t as easy a decision as some might think, giving up that independence and becoming wholly reliant on someone else for your survival.

I couldn’t bring myself to do that, not again. Not ever again.

Maudlin thoughts, much?

I shrugged off those thoughts and added more bottles and nipples to the cart, more bottle cleaners, four triple packs of baby wipes along with a month’s worth of onesies. It was enough to get us through the week, and then Alex could take care of the rest. Okay, and I might have added a few pink and yellow dresses to the cart, and the most adorable pair of baby sandals I’d ever seen. Maybe it was overkill, but there was no such thing when it came to a little girl without a mother as far as I was concerned.

My phone rang as I turned into the aisle holding all the diaper bins, and though I knew I would regret answering the call, I did.

“Hello, Mom.” It wasn’t that I didn’t love my mother, because I did. She was just a lot to deal with most of the time.

“Sasha. I’m surprised you answered.” No one did the tone that was a mix of hurt and disappointment as well as my mother. “Does this mean you’re making time to come back for a visit?” The hope in her words almost made me reconsider, but the truth was the truth.

“Sorry, Mom. I can’t. I’ve just accepted another placement, which means it’ll be at least a few more months before I can even think of coming for a visit.” The truth was whenever I thought about returning home, the answer came quickly and decisively. Hell no.

Mom let out what I liked to call the disappointed mother’s sigh and I could almost picture her pinching the bridge of her nose as if I was the source of all of her troubles.

“You will have to forgive him at some point, Sasha. He’s your father.”

I rolled my eyes. “It would have been nice if he’d remembered that over the years,” I shot back. “And for the record, I don’t have to forgive him. Not if I don’t want to. But it’s irrelevant right now because he isn’t the reason I can’t come home.” The fact that my mother stayed with my father after all the abuse and the affairs didn’t do much to encourage visits back to Connecticut. “I have to work, Mom. That’s how the bills get paid and how I take care of myself.”


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