Bedding the Fake Boyfriend: Bedding the Bachelors Book 10
Page 3
Second floor bathroom, right after fourth period. Her in the stall as two girls casually exchanged the words that had confirmed what she’d always known and set those hooks of fear deeper into her heart.
“I can’t believe he’s still with her. I gave it two weeks and now it’s been nearly six months. She must be like the blow job queen or something.”
“You’re probably right. He’s so hot and cool and she’s so awkward. And that awful red hair?”
The pair of them laughed as nausea rolled through Rose. They were talking about her and Gio.
“Not to mention her weird fucking brother. If there was a superlative for Most Likely to Shoot Up the School he’d be a shoe-in.”
God, the memory still killed, but she couldn’t let the past dictate her future. None of that mattered now. What mattered was the huge decision Gio had laid at her feet.
A whole week with him.
It was…a lot. And clearly a terrible idea. Especially given how much he still affected her.
“No?” She’d managed to get the word out, but all she could hear was the big, fat question mark after it.
“No?” Gio asked, sitting forward in his chair like his life depended on her answer.
Which was ridiculous. It totally didn’t. In fact, he could probably find a hundred girls to fill this “position” for free. And if he wanted to pay someone so that whoever she was didn’t get the wrong idea and think she was going to wind up becoming Mrs. Esposito, then he could do it for a fraction of what he was offering her. Gio Esposito didn’t need her. Hell, he didn’t need anyone. He had it all. Gobs of money, a great family, a thriving business. Even his drool-worthy good looks and charisma hadn’t faded one bit since high school. He was used to getting what he wanted, 100% of the time. He’d even gotten her, once.
Even now, he seemed so much like the Gio she’d fallen in love with. Gorgeous and charming, yes, but with hidden depths. He was exasperated with his grandmother, but he clearly cared about her. And he’d agreed to donate to Michael’s Way before deciding to make this odd proposition. He appeared to be a good man, but she couldn’t forget how he’d disappointed her all those years ago. And how, in the end, he’d confirmed what she’d always feared—they were too different to be together for the long haul. While he wasn’t wrangling for anything more than a business deal now, one that would only last one week, it would only bring her heartache.
“No,” she said more firmly this time. “I really appreciate the offer, but it’s not a good idea. I’m a terrible liar, so it probably wouldn’t even work, and I’m sure there are far better candidates for this if you’re still planning to go through with it.”
She neatly folded the towels he’d given her and set them on the chair as he watched her, his expression shuttered.
“Here’s the ten thousand anyway,” he said, holding out the check as he stood.
She swallowed hard, gratitude swelling within her. “Thank you, Gio.” She reached for the check and as she took it, their fingers brushed and a spark shot down her arm.
She almost gasped. Yes, she’d made the right decision, turning him down. Whatever magic had existed between the two of them had clearly not abated one bit since high school. If anything, there was an even rawer edge to it now. He’d been more experienced than her in high school, that was for sure, but he’d still been young.
How had time seasoned him as a partner?
Had it harnessed that insatiable sexuality into something more restrained? Had those eager, intuitive hands become even more skilled?
She shut down that train of thought and stuffed the check in her purse. “You’ve been very generous. I really appreciate it. I’ll mail you a receipt as soon as I get home.” She turned, barely keeping herself from sprinting for the door before she did or said something stupider than she already had.
“Thank you. But Rose?”
She turned to face him, heart pounding so loud she could feel it in her throat.
“The offer is still open. Sleep on it. My phone number is on the memo line of the check. You have twenty-four hours to change your mind.”
She stared at him, fighting the temptation to tell him she didn’t need to think about it, that she’d gladly spend more time with him, but she just managed to keep in the words. After a quick nod, she turned on her heel, and headed out the door.
Thirty minutes later, Rose found herself where she always found herself when things got too hard.
With a sigh, she plopped down onto the wet grass next to Michael’s headstone. The rain and mud instantly seeped through her coat and pants, but seriously, she was such a mess already, it hardly mattered.
“So, you are so not going to believe this one,” she said. “You remember Gio Esposito?” she continued as she busied her hands clearing leaves and debris from the headstone. “Well, I saw him today. And somehow got the balls to ask him for money for your charity. He donated ten thousand dollars, which is amazing enough, but he offered to give me one hundred thousand if I spend a week with him in Maine. How’s that for a kick in the pants? Bet you never thought old freckle-face would command that kind of dough, did you?”
Her brother never answered. Not when she was awake talking to him like this, at any rate. But some nights—the best nights—he came to her in dreams and they talked for hours.
God, she missed him.
She blinked back the sudden rush of tears and chewed on her lower lip for a long moment until she got control of herself again. Michael hated to see her cry and she did her damnedest never to do it when she came to visit him.
“Anyway, I obviously can’t do it. Not after what happened at that party and he failed to stick up for you. But I feel really sad about not being able to bring that hundred grand to the charity coffers. It could help so many people…”
Two hundred thousand, a little voice piped up. It was so loud and so clear that it had her eyes narrowing at Michael’s headstone.
“Was that you or me?” she asked suspiciously. Needless to say, he didn’t answer, but it didn’t matter much. The thought had been implanted in her mind and now she couldn’t shake it.
Two hundred was right. The hundred for the job and another hundred matching donation.
Jesus, that was a lot of money. Like, so much money. Instantly, her brain started calculating all the programs they could start and people they could help with those funds. Two hundred grand could fund the salary of a new therapist on staff for almost four years. That new therapist could help literally a hundred patients in that time period. Maybe more.
And if it saved just one of them from the pain that Michael had suffered, causing him to take his own life?
Her insides ached and she bowed her head, feeling like she was being tied up in knots. It was a familiar feeling where Gio was concerned.
A part of her had always wondered why Gio had chosen her but her fears reached their peak during the summer after they’d graduated high school. Even though they should have been spending every moment they could together, he’d been working a lot. His parents gave him plenty of money and were paying for his college and living expenses, so his explanation that he was saving up for something important, without disclosing what that important thing was, hadn’t rung true.
Was he bored with her? Pulling away? Had he changed his mind about making things work between them despite the fact that they were going to be three thousand miles apart? She’d convinced herself it was all true. That’s why she hadn’t been at The Party as she’d come to refer to it in her head. Mary Howard’s 4th of July party. She’d decided if Gio was going to pull away from her, she’d do the same thing so she’d made up an excuse about not feeling well, insisting Gio go alone. Only she hadn’t been able to keep to her plan, had she?
The memory that she’d kept dammed up tight broke through her walls and played over in her mind like a bad movie.
Feeling like a coward, she’d decided she had to talk to Gio about her fears. So she’d arrived at the party late. She�
��d gone inside to look for Gio and saw him standing with a group of guys from school. She’d walked closer and heard them talking.
“I know he hears voices, but does that kid see dead people, too?” Kevin Williams was saying as the others laughed.
“Bro, is he like Rainman or that Beautiful Mind dude? Because maybe he could do my math homework for me.”
“My biggest fear would be that I’d be fucking his sister and he would, like, snap and come at me with an axe and cut my dick off or some shit. That’s what crazy people do, so watch your dick, bro.”
And Gio? He’d just stood there, fists clenched, looking irritated, but saying nothing.
So he wasn’t the guy she thought she knew at all, the one who was so sweet to Michael’s face, and watched baseball games with him on weekends. The one who went back to the car to get her a sweatshirt when she was cold. The one who seemed to love her, despite her own insecurities.
No. He was the type of guy who let a bunch of assholes at a party make fun of a kid with a very serious mental illness without standing up to them because he didn’t want to make waves with the other “cool” kids.
She’d left the party without him seeing her, telling herself it was better this way. Better that she knew the truth once and for all. She’d spent so much time thinking he was too cool, too sexy, too rich, too everything for her, when it turned out he wasn’t the kind of man she wanted anyway.
Now, fifteen years later, Gio was offering her something incredible. Could she put aside how much the teenage Gio had hurt her and give Gio the man a week of her time?
“He hurt me then, Michael. What if this time he wrecks me?”
When did it become about you, Rose?
Rose smiled bitterly. That time, she knew for a fact the voice wasn’t Michael. He was the one who was always telling her to take better care of herself. To put herself first.
Nope, that one was all Rose Whitman, all day. The internal voice that she couldn’t seem to silence.
This time, though, it felt like the voice of reason.
A week’s paid vacation at some swanky New England town, probably on the seaside. A few functions, a fancy wedding, and a big, fat check.
She’d be crazy to say no.
With shaking hands, she dug her phone out of her bag along with Gio’s check, knowing if she didn’t pull the trigger now, she never would.
It took her three tries to dial the number right, and she held her breath as it rang.
“Gio Esposito.”
The words stuck in her throat for a long moment, but she finally managed to croak them out.
“I’ll do it.”
Chapter 3
Gio hadn’t thought it was possible that Rose could look sexier than she had the other day in her damp blouse and her rain-frizzled hair, but Jesus, was he wrong.
As he stared across the table, he realized she was even more gorgeous than she’d been in high school. The years had added a maturity to her features and she exuded an air of confidence now that she’d never had before, which he found unbelievably sexy. But luckily for him, she still had those adorable freckles on her nose.
“A glass of wine or would you prefer something else?” he asked as the waiter made his way over.
“Wine would be great. Anything robust and red is fine for me.”
He ordered a bottle and thanked the waiter before turning back to Rose. He paused when he spotted someone behind her. It was Dante Callaghan, a business associate. Dante was sitting at a nearby table with a beautiful blonde, and for a split second Gio thought the woman was Gio’s employee Aurora DeMonde. She wasn’t.
Too bad. Dante was a huge flirt and particularly interested in flirting with Aurora. Aurora, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in Dante—at least, she pretended not to be—and it was sometimes exhausting having to squeeze in business between their personal interactions. If the two of them had finally started dating, it would make things easier for Gio. But he was being greedy. Fate had already brought Rose back into his life and she was helping him out of one bind; given that, he’d happily put up with Dante and Aurora’s weird dance again once he returned from his sister’s wedding. Hell, he’d even try to be more patient with them, especially Callaghan. Because, fuck, relationships? Unrequited feelings? He knew exactly how hard they could be on a person.
“So,” he said, focusing once more on Rose. “We’re clear on what to tell my family?”
“Yes,” she said, tucking a curl behind one ear. “Basically the truth, that we reconnected after I stopped by your office seeking a donation for Michael’s Way, only we say it happened a few weeks ago. Afterward, you took me to a little jazz club and we spent the evening catching up and we’ve been enjoying each other’s company ever since.”
He nodded and tried to ignore the way the neckline of her dress flashed the barest hint of black lace when she leaned in to snag a breadstick from the basket between them.
“Yup, that’s about the gist of it. No need to get too complicated or lie more than we have to.”
“Which is excellent, because as I mentioned the other day but will repeat once again so you can’t say I didn’t warn you, I’m a terrible liar.”
Was that why she hadn’t even bothered to break up with him in person all those years ago? Because there was more to it than what she’d told him and she didn’t think she could lie effectively? As it was, her breaking up with him had completely blindsided him, and her words played over and over in his mind…
I thought I wanted you and then I realized you weren’t the guy I wanted, after all. End of story.
“So what do you think of my new tie, then?” he asked, shifting gears before memories of the past swallowed him whole.
One of his employees had given it to him a few months back for his birthday and it was a little loud for his taste, but he’d worn it to the office today so as not to hurt her feelings. Rose considered it for a long moment before wrinkling her nose.
“It’s…fine.”
“Wow, you weren’t kidding, were you?” he asked with a low whistle. “That was terrible. You literally winced.”
She chuckled, suddenly seeming at ease for the first time since she’d walked in. “Yeah, it’s like my anti-superpower. I tried to play poker once in college and wound up having to eat canned chicken soup for a month straight because I lost so much money. The funny part is, I had no clue why until my roommate told me that my face was like a billboard and the one time I tried to bluff, I looked like I was going to throw up. Not a recipe for poker success, apparently.”
Maybe not, but it was a quality he admired.
Rose cleared her throat but whatever she was going to say was lost when the waiter delivered their wine and took their dinner orders before melting into the background again.
“I’m sure a lot has changed in fifteen years,” Rose said. “And you’re paying me quite a lot of money for this little business arrangement of ours. We should exchange common day-to-day information.”
Gio smiled at the way she kept reminding him it was just business between them. Maybe because she had to keep reminding herself?
But she was right. If Gio wanted this to work—and he so fucking did, because if he had to deal with his grandmother stalking him all week, he’d have to find some bleach to drink—he needed to be realistic. His girlfriend would know a lot more about him than Rose did right now, and vice versa. They were going to have to remedy that.
“Ask away,” he said.
“Let’s start easy. Favorite meal?”
He took a long sip from his glass, then said, “Pork chops italiano smothered in roasted and hot cherry peppers with a side of gnocchi with oil and garlic. You?”
She took a bite of her breadstick and chewed thoughtfully. “I guess if I had to pick one, single, on my deathbed kind of meal it would be butter poached lobster with asparagus wrapped in pancetta and mushroom risotto.”
He tipped his glass toward her in approval and she tentatively clinked hers agains
t it. “That’s my kind of meal.”
“Thing is, a fat, juicy burger with melted cheese and bacon would be a close second. Probably not the same for you, huh?” she asked with a wry smile before taking a sip of wine.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I mean…” she gestured vaguely to him and then around the restaurant, brows raised. “You don’t look like a burger kind of guy, I guess. Not anymore.”
He tapped his thumb against his glass, debating. It was probably better to set her straight right now, because it could definitely cause some hiccups once they were around his family.
“So far, you’ve seen me at my office where I’m the boss, and at a nice restaurant right after I left my office being the boss. The suit, the watch, all this…” he mimicked her gesture at their elegant surroundings, “part of the image. The second I get home, the suit comes off and I’m in gym pants or jeans. In fact, I told my sister if she made the reception semi-formal so I didn’t have to wear a suit, I’d foot the bill for the whole affair. Burgers are definitely part of my weekly diet.”
“In your effort to demonstrate how relatable you are, you also admitted that you’re paying for your sister’s wedding. That’s not exactly what commoners do, Gio,” she observed dryly.
He chuckled and was suddenly reminded of how good she’d always been at calling him on his bullshit. “You got me there. Look, all I’m saying is, if you’re expecting me to be some fancy man once we leave, you’d better check those expectations, because you’re going to be disappointed. When I unwind and let loose, I unwind and let loose.”
Those green eyes took on a soft glow that sent a rush of blood straight south, making his cock swell. Fuck, she was sexy. Every move she made, from the way she touched the tip of her tongue to her wine glass when she drank, to the way she subconsciously stroked the stem of the glass.
Even now, one hand was absently brushing the long, subtle curve of her bare neck and a secret smile tugged at her lips.