Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
I grimaced. I deserved that.
“I mean, calling me that?”
“I know—”
She kept going as if I hadn’t spoken. “You rarely call me anything but Myers in the office. Hearing you say Maggie Mae, I almost swallowed my tongue.”
I gaped at her. That was what surprised her?
Then she winked. “Add in the fiancée part, and I almost expired on the spot.” She shook her head. “What were you thinking, Bane?”
I had to laugh. She was ridiculous.
I pulled her between my legs, burying my head into her warmth. “I wasn’t thinking. I was reacting.” I pinched her ass playfully. “To the ‘he ruts very well’ comment.”
Myers scoffed. “As if we were a couple of farmyard animals.”
“I’m sure, to my mother, we were.”
“She’s one to talk. Pretentious cow.”
And once again, I was laughing. I looked up. Myers was smiling, but she looked troubled.
“Why did you say that?” she asked.
“To shut her up,” I admitted.
“You better hope she keeps it to herself. Otherwise, you will have a lot of explaining and damage control to do.”
“Damage control?”
She shook her head, taking a sip of the brandy-laced coffee and grimacing. “You’ll have to let people know it was a joke. Make sure the partners understand. Not sure how exactly you’ll explain it, but—”
I stopped her. “What if it’s not a joke?”
She frowned. “Pardon me?”
I took her hand and kissed it. “Marry me, Myers.”
Chapter Twenty-One
MAGNOLIA
Istared at him. Then I glanced at his coffee cup. How much brandy had I put in it?
Obviously, the man was drunk.
I tried to tug my hand away, but he held tight.
“I’ll get you fresh coffee. The nonalcoholic kind. You’ve obviously had enough.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“You must be. You just proposed marriage. In the office. You called me Myers while doing it.”
He frowned, releasing my hand and rubbing his chin. “Not the most romantic proposal, I agree. But I meant it.” He paused. “Maggie darling, marry me.”
I laughed. “Nice try.”
He shook his head. “I’m serious.”
“You don’t want to get married. You’ve said so many times.”
“I said I don’t want to marry the women my mother likes. She doesn’t like you.”
“So that makes me marriage material?”
“Think about it. We get married—my mother will shut up and stay away. You move in with me, your housing problem is solved. You wouldn’t even have to work for me or anyone if you didn’t want to. You could paint. Craft. Do all the things you enjoy.”
“As hobbies. I enjoy them as hobbies. I like working.”
“Even better. You can run me here and at home.”
I stared at him, aghast. He was serious. He wanted to get married to solve our problems. Nothing about love, a life together, or anything personal.
“It sounds like a business deal.”
“Well, I don’t usually have sex with business deals, but I’m willing to make an exception in your case.” He smirked, looking proud of himself. “We have a cat together, we enjoy each other’s company. Sex with you is incredible. I love your sandwiches.”
I shut my eyes and counted to ten. Then I opened them, leaned close, and smiled. “Bane?”
“Magnolia?” he murmured, lifting his hand and running a finger down my cheek.
“Suggest this again, and the next time your mother drops in, I’ll let her into your office and lock the door behind her.”
Then I turned and walked out of the office, shutting the door firmly behind me.
Loudly.
What a jerk.
I sat down, stared at my desk, then decided I needed to stay busy and I needed it to be physical. Everything in this office was clean, tidy, and orderly. Bane’s office was organized, although I still wanted to clean his cupboard—I wasn’t going in there with him.
I was angry. Hurt.
When he’d first uttered the words “marry me,” my heart raced. I was filled with elation. Wonder. The belief that he felt the same way about me as I did about him. This wasn’t some office affair. It was something real.
And then he opened his mouth again and ruined it all. He didn’t love me. I was a convenience. We could get married and help each other.
He had told me he didn’t think he was capable of having a relationship. Of experiencing or expressing real feelings. I should have known better. But given the fact that I realized I was falling for him, I thought he’d felt the same about me. I was an idiot.
Simply thinking about it made me angry again. I rose from my desk, went to the kitchen, and made Bane a coffee. I could still be professional, and he liked a coffee this time of the day. Then I gathered up some garbage bags and tucked them under my arm. I knocked on his door, walking in before he answered. I knew he was alone. I set down the coffee, and he eyed the bags under my arm.
“Are you cleaning out your desk, or are those for my body once you dismember me?”