Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Fucking hell.
This whole thing was an act. He was putting on a show for those detectives, making them think our marriage is real. That’s why his hand is on my knee. That’s why he’s touching my cheek and sitting closer.
He doesn’t mean any of it.
And a sudden wave of embarrassment rushes over me. “Right, inside,” I say and leap to my feet. I jostle my wine glass in the process and spill some down the front of me. “Oh, shit.”
“Let me help.” He gets up, takes my glass, and grabs the bottle. “Come on, let’s get you into the laundry room.”
I let him take me inside. I glance back and spot a car sitting a couple houses down with two figures inside. The detectives, watching us from a distance.
Conlan leads me into the laundry room. He takes off my top, sprays it with cleaner, then tosses it into the washing machine. I’m so taken aback by everything that I barely even notice I’m standing in close quarters wearing only my bra.
But he notices. When he turns back, his eyes lock on my chest, and his tongue licks his lips like he’s hungry for something. Slowly, he looks up. “I thought you’d leave,” he says.
And I realize I should’ve gone up to my room to put on fresh clothes. Instead, I’ve been standing there behind him like an idiot, feeling stupid.
Now he’s only a few inches away, and I’m in only my bra.
“Yeah, you’re right. I just, uh—” I go to walk away, but he grabs my wrist.
“I meant what I said out there.”
“You were just putting on a show.” I don’t look back. Why am I so emotional right now? None of this is real, but it’s messing with my head.
“Yes, I was, but they couldn’t hear what I said. All of that was for you, and I meant it. My life… I don’t have many close friends.”
“Is that what I am? A good buddy?”
“No, I don’t think I’d look at a good buddy the way I look at you.”
I shiver, and I know he’s right.
“Let me go, Con. I should put on clothes.”
“No.” He pulls me back to him. “You want to hear something? When you told me you were jealous, I liked it.”
“Stop.” I stare into his eyes. His handsome face, his beautiful eyes. “I don’t want to hear this. Things are complicated enough.”
“You’re right. I should let you go.”
“You should.”
“But you feel good.”
“So do you.”
He tilts my chin up. “How long can you pretend?”
I don’t get a chance to ask him what he means before he kisses me.
I’m surprised for only a second, but then I’m kissing him back. Tongue, lips, everything pressed together, his taste flooding my mouth.
It’s the perfect kiss. The right pressure, the right motion. I make another involuntary whimper as I sink into him, his body warm against mine. His strong arms wrap around me, holding me tight, making me feel safe. I never imagined I’d be in here, kissing my boss like this, but he’s my husband. We should kiss, shouldn’t we? Even if it’s not real, why can’t we try?
But reality asserts itself when the washing machine kicks on. The noise startles me and I pull back. Conlan’s staring at me with pure lust in his expression, and I’m suddenly very aware of how vulnerable I am.
“I should go upstairs,” I say, backing away. “I should get changed.”
“Right.” The laundry machine fills behind him. “You wouldn’t want to do something you’d regret.”
I hurry away, wondering. Would I regret it if I didn’t pull away? And what would it have felt like, to finally give in and taste my boss the way I’ve always dreamed?
The answers don’t matter, because I’ll never let myself find out.
Chapter 23
Conlan
The party is as tacky as I pictured.
Colorful drinks, grass skirts, floral lei necklaces, tiki mugs and torches, limbo, hula hoops, and free pina coladas.
It’s crowded. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the pool area this packed on a weeknight, but there are at least eighty to a hundred people milling around, drinking the free booze, some of them in the pool playing volleyball, most of them in bathing suits lounging around as the sun goes down and the outdoor lights come on.
“You have to admit, it’s impressive.” Isabel surveys the madness with her hands on her hips.
“I definitely don’t have to.” I wave away the look she gives me. “But you’re right, it’s much better than I expected. Although I expected something extremely bad.”
Isabel suppresses a smile, which I like. Since when did I want to make her laugh? Fucking hell, I’m a mess, and I can’t stop thinking about that moment in the laundry room.
First, I decide to be vulnerable, which is always a mistake. I just wanted her to know that I like having her around, that I feel comfortable with her in my life. Even if it’s not real.