Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Hmm.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I need more information.” I cross my legs and get comfortable. “Who would know the truth?”
“Just you and me.”
“You wouldn’t tell anyone? No friends or family?”
“No. Absolutely not.” He shakes his head. “What about you? Can you keep it on the down low?”
“Yes.”
He narrows his gaze. “What if Grandma comes at you with cookies again?”
“That was different. I can keep my mouth shut when it matters. Even while baked on baked goods.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, but he’s polite enough to say no more on the subject.
“How long do you envision us fake dating for?”
“I don’t know.” He sits back and rests an elbow on top of the couch. Such arm porn. Rodin would have sculpted him for sure. “A month maybe?”
“What exactly would it involve?”
He contemplates this for a whole second. “I’ll take you out to dinner once a week. Say a local restaurant or bar. Somewhere public so we’ll be seen, and you get to meet people. That should do it.”
“Is that really your idea of showing me around town?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.
“What?”
“And you’re telling me that when you’re interested in a woman and dating her exclusively, you only see her once a week?”
“Summer’s a busy time for me.” Out comes the shit-eating grin. Though it doesn’t stick for long.
“You really haven’t thought this through at all, have you?”
“Riley…”
My name in his deep voice heaped with charm hits me straight between the hips. Which is annoying. “You want to convince the town that you’ve moved on so they stop shipping you with your ex? That’s your goal here?”
“Correct.” He raises a finger. “I think it can be mutually beneficial.”
“Yes, you’ve made a semi-convincing case for that. But if we’re really going to do this, then you’re going to need to pretend to be as into me as you were with her.”
His smile dims way down. “I don’t know about that.”
“It’s up to you. But, as you pointed out, you were born and raised here. These people know you. They know how you behave when you’re serious about someone. Also—there’s no way I am risking anyone finding out you’re cheating on our supposed relationship. Not happening. The local mythos of you and your ex will take some work to overcome. Do you really think having dinner with me once a week while seeing someone on the side will do it?”
He starts strangling his ballcap some more. “No,” he says with a frown. “Grandma said you’re just here for the summer?”
“My lease is for three months. Then we’ll see.”
He nods and smothers a yawn. “Shit. Sorry. Long day.”
“How about we both give the situation a little more thought and talk later?” I start walking toward the front door, and he follows. “Oh. I do have one stipulation in regard to our possible agreement.”
He turns and frowns back at me from the hallway. “What?”
“We tell people we met tonight due to the phone number nonsense, and it was love at first sight.”
“It was what?”
“You heard me.”
“Love at first sight,” he says with much disdain. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I won’t have Grandma Martha and her squad thinking I lied about not knowing you. It’s not happening. I refuse to cede the moral high ground to your ex.”
The expression on his face asks what the fuck in several languages. “But you’re willing to lie from now on?”
“That’s different.”
“Right.” He blinks tiredly and heads for the stairs. “Love at first sight. Like anyone is going to believe that.”
“Not with that attitude they won’t. Good night, Connor.”
His parting grunt echoes up the stairs. And people say romance is dead.
Ava: I keep thinking about how you asked me what’s so great about Connor.
Ava: I know him on a cellular level. There’re no hidden nasties waiting around the corner.
Me: I can see how that would appeal. People are rarely who they say they are.
Ava: This is my point.
Me: But safety is still a shit excuse. Do you love him and want the same things as him?
Thanks to work, I don’t get to the grocery store until late Tuesday. The words aren’t flowing, which is annoying as fuck. Guess I am temporarily blocked due to the upheaval of the move or something. So many recent upsets and changes in my life. But there were plenty of marketing and admin type jobs to be done. Most of which I had been putting off for pretty much forever.
People think being a writer is easy. And it is if you want to be broke. The truth is romance readers are smart. They know what they want. Add this to the fact that the market is flooded, and you have a challenging career. It’s not just about knowing how to craft a book these days. Or coming up with great story ideas. You’re also running a business, with all that entails. So getting out and having a change of scenery at the end of the workday is very welcome.