Bad Engagement (Billionaire's Club Book 10)

by Elise Faber

  Her breath shuddered out.

  She’d felt that way, too, had become almost obsessed with seeing his posts, but she also knew that her personality bordered on obsessive, that she was always falling too far, too fast, too soon.

  This was too soon.

  So, instead of saying what was in her heart, she pulled back.

  Gently, and with a joke, but she still pulled back. “So, the man who knows nothing of emojis, knows about filters?”

  He seemed to understand she needed the distance because he let her go, also stepping back, his soft chuckle filling the air, gentle now without a hint of sexual tension, then reached for the doorknob. “I had to learn about them, or at least that was what my vet tech told me when I started the page last year. I quote couldn’t look shiny.” He opened the door. “And I shouldn’t say I know nothing about emojis, I’ve been known to use one of those ones that’s suggested when you type.”

  She snorted, followed him out onto her porch, and took a few moments to lock up.

  “I should have asked,” she said when they were on their way to his car, a mid-sized black SUV parked in her driveway, “was I on your way? I could have come and picked you up instead.”

  “I’m not far,” he said and gave her the address of his condo, which was actually just in the next neighborhood over. Then he opened the passenger door and helped her in.

  “Wait.” She grabbed his hand, finally processing that he lived in a condo. She’d imagined . . . what? A farm or a big house with a back yard filled with animals. He couldn’t have that in a condo.

  Shit. Shit. Why had she spent all that time kissing him instead of peppering him with questions? She didn’t know nearly enough to pull off this ruse.

  “What, Red?” he asked, turning his hand so he could wrap his fingers around her wrist.

  “Do you have any pets?”

  He shook his head. “No,” he said. “Not since my Honey died last year. I . . . sometimes it’s hard to be around animals all day, especially when you see them in pain far too often.” Fingers on her cheek. “I know I’ll get another dog or cat someday, but I just needed some time.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out and running her thumb along his jaw, hating the shadow of pain in his eyes. “That must be hard, seeing all those sick animals. I guess, I just had this image it was all . . . kittens and puppies.”

  “Those are definitely the fun days,” he said, voice still soft. “And I love my job, most of the time. It’s like anything else and has it’s tough moments.”

  She shook her head. “Except when I mess up on an ad mockup, there isn’t anyone’s life at risk.”

  Pale brown eyes on hers, filled with so much warmth that she actually felt her heart expand. “True,” he said. “But that pressure is part of the job.”

  “And what do you do to release that pressure?”

  He froze. Then he sighed and admitted, “Not enough recently, that’s for sure. When I took over the clinic, I knew the hours would be long, but they’ve been intense and a little overwhelming.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, held him tight. “I can only imagine.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured. “For asking. And for giving me my first break from the clinic in months with dinner last night,” he added, brushing a kiss to her forehead before straightening and reaching to close the car door. Then, as she was beginning to understand was his M.O., this man turned the topic off himself and back onto her. “You know, we don’t have to do this. I could go as your boyfriend or just as your date. You could just say your mom misheard or that you made a mistake.”

  So tempting.

  And yet, then she’d have to see the disappointment on her mom’s face.

  Plus, “What am I going to say?” she asked honestly. “That I thought you had a ring and I was wrong?”

  A flicker of humor on his face. “I—”

  “Oh shit.”

  “What?”

  She lifted her left hand. Her ringless left hand. Fuck. She hadn’t thought of a ring. Why hadn’t she thought of a ring? There was no way her mom would believe she’d gotten engaged without a ring. Which, she got, made her sound like a materialistic prima donna, but engagements and rings went hand in hand. If Kate was planning on getting married, she would have a ring.

  Except . . . she didn’t have a ring.

  “What, Red?” he asked again, but not impatiently. Instead, those brown eyes stayed gentle, his fingers on her wrist snug, but not tight. His thumb rubbed patterns on the palm of her right hand.

  “I don’t have a ring.” She shook her head. “I should have thought to get a ring—”

  “I have one,” he said simply and dropped her hand to reach into his pocket and retrieve a box. It was blue velvet, and when he opened the top, she gasped. “Not a real diamond,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you’d—” A sharp shake of his head. “Anyway, it’s called a moonstone, and I thought it was pretty and unique and . . . you. But you can always just tell them it’s a temporary ring because I wanted you to be able to pick out what you wanted.”

  She ran a finger over the soft white stone. It was diamond-esque, but opaque with translucent streaks of sky blue. She’d never seen anything quite like it.

  She also thought it the prettiest ring she’d ever seen.

  “You did this all today?” she asked. “The lunch, the ring, the haircut, and shaving. All of it . . . for me?”

  Jaime brushed the back of his knuckles over her cheek. “It was nothing,” he said. “And even if it were, you’re worth it, Red. It took no time at all for me to recognize that fact, honey, and if any man was stupid enough to not recognize that, then it was his loss and my gain.” He slipped the ring from the box. “Because I intend to get many more than just my two dates.” He snagged her left hand, bringing it toward him, and fitting the ring just over the tip of the proper finger. “Got it?”

  Her heart pounded, hope filling her with so much helium that she felt as though she could float. Still, she shook her head. “I think we’re insane. This is too much and . . . just idiotic. I know it was my idea, but—”

  He kissed her briefly then pulled back.

  A wicked smile as he slipped the ring down her finger then lifted his hand and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Then let’s be idiotic together.”

  Seven

  Jaime

  She’d given him quiet but clear directions to her parents’ house, and even with their slight delay in the hall, at the car, and the Friday evening traffic, they still arrived only just after six-thirty.

  An old ranch-style house set into the side of rolling hills, green this time of year after the early winter rains, but not yet dried to brown by the dryness of late spring and the summer’s heat, it was a beautiful piece of architecture with a wrap-around porch surrounded by lush flowerbeds. The double front doors were stained a rich brown, and a festive Christmas wreath hung centered over each wooden panel.

  “You grew up here?” he asked, the gorgeous home so different, so much grander than his own upbringing had provided.

  “No,” she said. “We grew up in a much smaller house. We moved because—” A shrug. “My mom invented a product that got patented when I was in high school.”

  That was unusual enough that he managed to tear his gaze from the perfectly straight Christmas lights framing each window, from the family of light-up deer “grazing” on the perfect green lawn. Then again, everything about this woman was interesting, including this house and what it said about her. “What did your mom invent?”

  “She’s a scientist,” Kate said. “Or was. She invented an anti-aging compound, sold it off to the highest bidder, and that became my parents’ retirement.” She smiled. “Good thing, too. Since my younger siblings seemed determined to eat them out of house and home.”

  “Excuse me!” a female voice exclaimed. “I’m not the only one who ate.” She held up an infant. “Did you hear that, Lacy? Your aunt called me fat.”

  Ka
te grinned. “You look beautiful, and you know it.” She slipped past Jaime to hug the woman he presumed was her sister, Ann. “In fact, I should hate you, considering you’re one of those formerly pregnant females who bounce right back into shape.”

  A rueful smile. “Believe me,” she said. “All sorts of things are bouncing that shouldn’t be bouncing.”

  “Well,” Kate said, scooping the baby out of her arms. “I stand by my statement”—she kissed each of the little girl’s tiny, plump cheeks—“your mommy is absolutely beautiful. Are you letting her get any sleep yet?”

  “Nope.” A twinkling laugh. “So, you going to introduce me to the man who you managed to keep a secret for all these months?”

  “Not tough with everything that has been going on.”

  “True enough.” She turned to Jaime, stuck her hand out. “Since this one”—she poked her sister in the shoulder—“isn’t going to be polite, I’ve got to take matters into my own hands. I’m Ann.”

  “I know,” he said, smiling and shaking her hand. “I’m Jaime. Kate has told me a lot about you, including the fact that you’re her favorite sister.”

  “Her only sister is more like it,” Ann said with a laugh. “But one she’s stuck with.” She leaned over and grinned at Kate. “I see you’ve got yourself a charmer.”

  Kate grinned back.

  “Here.” Jaime snagged the diaper bag from her shoulder. “Let me carry that for you.”

  A raised eyebrow before she laced her arm through his. “Thank you,” she said then smiled up at him. “Though I have to say that Kate has been surprisingly tight-lipped about you.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s nice to have something that just belongs to you for a bit.”

  Ann’s smile didn’t dim. In fact, it seemed to grow larger, or at least more approving. “Well, I hope you enjoyed that time while it lasted because you’d better believe that an interrogation is coming tonight.”

  Just as she finished the sentence, the front door opened and an older female waved excitedly, calling, “Come in already!”

  Kate groaned.

  And it turned out that Ann was right about the interrogation.

  A hockey game was on TV, the Gold decimating their opponent, thanks to the outstanding play of Liam Williamson, but Jaime couldn’t concentrate on the screen, not when he had four eyes boring holes in his profile.

  An unexpected consequence of him being “engaged” to Kate was the fact that he hadn’t considered that this engagement had happened without meeting her family.

  Or more specifically, without meeting her father, who had ice in his brown eyes identical to Kate’s, or her brother, who had the red hair but a pair of piercing blue irises that were sharp enough to cut.

  His “fiancé” had been swept into the kitchen approximately thirty seconds after her mother, a thin brunette with pale blue eyes, had barreled down the front walk, introduced herself as Marabelle McLeod. She’d bustled them into the house then waved him in the direction of the family room, telling him to make himself “at home.”

  He’d hesitated in the entrance, glanced toward the two men seated on the couch, and then had said, “Hi. I’m Jaime.”

  Grunts in response.

  Which was the moment that he’d realized this was going to be slightly more complicated than he’d anticipated.

  Considering his options, he’d sat in an armchair, had trained his focus on the television, and tried to put himself in their place. A man they’d never met, a stranger had asked their daughter/sister to marry him without ever meeting her family. Wincing, he knew that wasn’t exactly the first impression he’d wanted to make, especially because he really liked Kate, had felt that instant connection click into place over dinner, had been drawn in further by the walk, by the text conversations, even just chatting on the car ride over. It felt . . . right.

  As though he’d been doing his whole life wrong until Kate had messaged him.

  “We’re having a long engagement,” he blurted, turning to look at the two men who’d been staring him down for the last ten minutes. Jaime saw the blip of surprise on their faces, kept talking. “Things have moved fast with us,” he said. “We both know it. So, we decided to slow down, take our time from here on out.”

  “And yet my daughter has a ring on her finger,” her father, Harry, said. He hadn’t introduced himself, but Kate had given Jaime a rundown on all the important details—like names, like her being the oldest, like her dad recently retiring and taking up woodworking and having been given a workshop in the back yard by her mom for his birthday, complete with every tool under the sun.

  Which meant there were plenty of sharp instruments in the vicinity.

  Jaime held back a shudder and answered truthfully. “When you find someone worth holding on to, you don’t let them go.”

  Silence, but he got the feeling that Kate’s father approved.

  Of that one thing he said, at least.

  “And you didn’t think you should meet us first? Didn’t think you should ask permission before proposing?”

  This question, or rather questions, came from Kate’s brother, Jake.

  He met the hostile blue eyes. “I think Kate is smart and capable enough to make the decision of who she wants to marry,” he said, and it wasn’t a line. Jaime believed it. He wouldn’t have asked for permission from her dad to marry Kate. She was a strong, adult woman who could decide for herself. And if something like that was important to her—which he highly doubted based on the whole fake engagement thing—maybe then he would have given Harry a heads up that the proposal was coming. But he still wouldn’t have asked permission. “As for meeting you guys, I did want to and am happy we finally got here. Between our work schedules—Kate’s been working extremely hard, and I recently took over full time at my vet practice—along with wanting to keep this one thing for ourselves for just a little while—I come from a large family, too—time just got away from us.”

  “Sounds selfish,” Jake said.

  He shrugged. “Maybe, but I don’t think it’s selfish to spend time building a strong foundation with the woman who you’re going to spend the rest of your life with.”

  The noise on the TV rose then, the crowd screaming as someone from the Gold scored, but Jaime didn’t look away from Kate’s brother.

  Their gazes clashed—suspicion, irritation, frustration in Jake’s, but Jaime held firm. If this fake engagement was going to turn into something more, then this was something he would need to overcome.

  “How’d you know that sunflowers are Mary’s favorite?” Harry asked, drawing Jaime’s focus by referring to the bouquet he’d had stashed in the back seat and had given to Marabelle in the ten seconds he’d had before he’d been dispersed into the living room from hell.

  “I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I know they’re Kate’s, and so I hoped that she would like them, too.”

  “And the whiskey?”

  “My favorite,” he said, “and my mom raised me to never come to a house empty-handed.”

  “Hmm.” He turned his eyes back to the TV, and Jaime followed his gaze in time to see Liam Williamson make a move that even in slow motion was fast enough that he had to concentrate to see it.

  He whistled. “Damn, he’s good.”

  A beat, the tension hanging in the room for one more long moment then Harry chuckled and shook his head. “He’s something else, that’s for sure. Didn’t think he’d be here for long, but he’s certainly carved a niche out for himself here.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “it was smart of them to put him with Coop and Blue. Their line has been almost unstoppable this season.”

  Feeling Jake’s gaze on him, Jaime turned to face Kate’s brother.

  “You watch other sports?” Jake asked.

  Jaime shrugged. “A little basketball and football, but I prefer hockey.”

  A glimmer of approval on the other man’s face before he turned back to the game. “What do you think of Plantain this season?”r />
  “Still recovering from that shoulder injury, but I’ll bet she’ll be back up to full strength before the playoffs,” he said.

  More quiet, but this silence—punctuated by the noise of the game playing in the background—wasn’t homicidal, having him contemplating those power tools, or tense, two sets of eyes glaring. Instead, it had that glimmer of approval transforming into something more.

  Not quite endorsement.

  But he didn’t think they’d be going to get the saw.

  Good enough.

  Eight

  Kate

  She was sweating as she arranged the bouquet of sunflowers Jaime had given to her mom—gorgeous, beautiful sunflowers that made her smile and want to steal them home for herself.

  But the perspiration wasn’t from the flowers.

  It was because Jaime was confined in the other room with her brother and father, and based on the glares she’d seen when she’d walked by the space, it wasn’t going to be a kumbaya moment.

  They were going to rake the man who was doing her a favor, who was bailing her out, over the coals.

  Fuck. She hadn’t thought that through.

  Frankly, she hadn’t thought a lot of things through.

  The ring. Her family—though her mom hadn’t cared that she hadn’t met Jaime because her oldest and perpetually single daughter was “engaged!!” (and yes, two exclamations were worthy of her mom’s excitement). But she hadn’t factored in the protectiveness of her brother and father, and how they’d always done the whole “you’d better take care of her, or you’ll have me to answer to” thing.

  That wasn’t her favorite.

  She could take care of herself.

  But she appreciated that they loved her enough to worry, so while their protection had sometimes chaffed and often annoyed, she’d grown to accept it, oldest sibling who should be the one to be looking after the younger ones, or not.

  Men being men.

  Barf.

  But also, it came from a good place. They wanted her safe and happy, and she couldn’t deny that she’d also given Ann’s then boyfriend now husband and Jake’s wife the same narrow-eyed glare that her brother had been giving Jaime when she’d peeked in.