Fake Marriage to a Baller: A Wilder Brothers Romance

by Aria Scott

  Thinking about money immediately reminded me of the awful position I was in with my dogs. “My dogs! No way could I ever do this anyway. I’ve got to take care of my dogs.”

  “Your dogs?” Chase looked surprised. “That’s what’s stopping you? Dogs?”

  A wave of regret for lost opportunities washed over me. Now that reality had intruded and reminded me how ridiculous and impossible Chase’s plan was, I had to admit that I was actually disappointed. Had I actually been considering marrying him?

  “Yes, dogs. I foster them. Besides Jax and Molly - you’ve met Jax already - I currently have 3 dogs that I’ve rescued. And I don’t have that much time to find good homes for them.” I steeled myself, waiting for him to mock me.

  Chase waved aside my concerns as if they were no big deal. “My brother, Gage, takes care of the family ranch - Clearwater River Ranch. We have over five hundred acres. He’d have no problem caring for the dogs. He could keep them there until you found permanent homes for them or until you got back home.”

  “Well, there’s still Jax and Molly. They’re like my kids. I would never leave them behind for even a few weeks, so…”

  Chase wasn’t deterred. “They could come with us. We can hire help if we need it. I’ve got plenty of room at the penthouse. Plus, I’m good with dogs.”

  “Penthouse! You live in a penthouse?” What was I saying? It was almost as if I was considering Chase’s proposal…

  “The Penthouse Suite in Palm Court Tower. It’s got every amenity you could ever want and comes complete with a killer ocean view from the terrace.” He winked playfully at me. “You’re going to love it.”

  I nearly knocked over my beer bottle in my rush to correct him. “Hold on! Not so fast. Do you really think I’d just shack up with you, penthouse or not? Just like that?”

  “What? You need a little foreplay first?” He must have seen the look on my face, because finally his tone got a lot more serious. “Listen. You’re coming at this from the wrong angle. This isn’t a real marriage. Well, it will be real, but what I mean is, this is a business deal. Most of the time I’ll be busy at training camp, so you won’t even have to see me.”

  “So let me see if I understand this correctly. You’ll pay me one hundred thousand dollars to pretend to be your wife--”

  Chase held up his hand. “Not pretend. You will be my wife. But you’ll only have to act like it in public.”

  I nodded. “Right. In private, we both know the truth, so we’re just normal.”

  “I guess that’s one way to put it…”

  I continued, “I can bring Jax and Molly to the penthouse and your brother will take care of my rescues at the ranch.”

  Chase nodded.

  “And you understand that there will be no sex involved in this little agreement.”

  Chase’s smile melted a little bit. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean there will be no sex between us. Period.” I looked at his crestfallen face. “Jesus, Chase. What do you think I am? A prostitute? Sex is a dealbreaker. If you don’t agree, then I’m out.”

  “Whoa. Slow down. It’s not like I was going to force you to have sex with me. But there’s going to come a time when you’ll want it--”

  I cut him off. “I mean it. No sex. That’s non-negotiable. And here’s the thing: while we’re married, you can’t have sex with anyone else either. No affairs. No other women. I don’t want you embarrassing me or making me look like a fool.”

  His jaw tightened. “What if I’m discreet?”

  “No cheating. At all. You’re the one who said football was your life. If you can’t make that commitment, then tell me right now. Because you’ll have to find somebody else to be your phoney bride.”

  He wiped his hand down his face. It looked like he had aged about ten years in the last five minutes. “I didn’t realize I’d have to live like a monk! I’m not sure--”

  I stood up abruptly and realized the alcohol was making me dizzy. “In that case, I’m outta here.”

  “Wait.” He stopped me. “I can make the commitment.” He smiled, turning on his full charm. “I solemnly promise that I won’t have sex with any other woman while we’re married. Not even a kiss.”

  His smile disarmed me. “Okay. Good.” I couldn’t figure out why he’d had this sudden about-face. Hopefully, he wasn’t bamboozling me.

  He was grinning ear to ear. “So, we have a deal?”

  I felt a warm glow of satisfaction, like I was doing the right thing. Or maybe it was just the booze. “You know, I’ve had a lot to drink tonight. This probably isn’t the best--”

  “I’ve got to know tonight, Aubrey. Otherwise, I have to find another girl.”

  “No! It’s a deal. When do we start?” I didn’t want some other girl stealing my job.

  “I head back to Miami in about two weeks. That should give you enough time to give notice at your job and get ready to move. I’ll start the ball rolling tomorrow and have my agent send the contract over for you to review and sign.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m really going to do this!”

  Chase smile mischievously, “How should we seal the deal?”

  “Business deals are usually sealed with a handshake,” I offered.

  I held out my hand, but Chase ignored it. “But this is a marriage proposal. We should seal it with a kiss.”

  “Chase…”

  “You realize you’re going to have to kiss me at some point. And at least pretend to like it.”

  Pretending to like it would definitely not be my problem. I had just experienced the lethality of Chase’s kiss in the parking lot. My problem was pretending not to like them so damned much. But, I was sure that alcohol was clouding my judgement. In the sober light of day, I would have no problem handling Chase Wilder. If I kept a clear head, I should have no trouble collecting the $100,000 with my pride firmly in tact.

  I met his gaze squarely. “Don’t worry, I’m a good actress. For now, we’ll stick to a handshake.

  Chase took my offered hand and shook. His smile was filled with boyish wonder. “I think this makes us officially engaged.”

  Chapter 9

  Chase

  Aubrey and I stood in the front foyer of my Miami crib and surveyed the cardboard boxes that the movers were slowly bringing in. She was watching the whole operation with an anxious eye and, to be honest, so was I. My penthouse was a bachelor pad, a place that no woman had ever managed to plunder for more than a night. And yet, here she was, my cute little redhead wife-to-be, moving all her girly things into my man cave.

  “No, no, no,” she was telling one of the movers, a bearded beanpole-looking dude who was gazing around my place with wide eyes, like he’d just been inducted into the professional football hall of fame. “That goes in the kitchen.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He veered toward the kitchen, but not before he gave Aubrey a thorough checking-out. Suddenly I wanted to put my foot up his ass.

  “How much more is there?” I asked the mover.

  “Another twenty boxes, maybe.”

  “Great.” I touched her arm, got her attention. “You didn’t tell me you had so much stuff.”

  She sniffed. “You didn’t tell me you lived like a pig.”

  I let my gaze rove freely over her full breasts and long, slender thighs, legs I couldn’t wait to part with my own. I could see that she knew I was undressing her with my eyes, but I didn’t care. That chastity vow she’d demanded as part of our marriage--the one that said ‘no sex’ all around--was bullshit, pure and simple. I felt certain I’d get her onto my side of the bed before the week was out. “Are you saying you don’t like pigs? How could that be? You like dogs, don’t you?”

  Her eyes darkening, she pointed to an old pizza box laying on the floor, not far from the patio doors that led outside to my infinity pool and a million-dollar view. “There’s trash all over the place. And it smells in here.”

  “This isn’t an operating room. We do
n’t perform surgery in here.”

  “I thought you had a housekeeper.”

  “I do. She took a few weeks off when I went back to Grove. She’ll be here later today.”

  “Thank God.” Her face scrunched up with disgust. “That pizza box isn’t the only thing in here that smells.”

  “My football equipment gets sweaty. Wait until the season starts. If you don’t like it now, you’ll need a gas mask then.”

  “Yeah, well, wait until you smell a few dog farts in the middle of the night,” she countered.

  “Dog farts. Interesting.” I nodded slowly, thoughtfully. The truth was, I liked how she was getting all earthy on me, all downhome. A squeamish girl might have trouble sucking your cock because of the ‘dirtiness’ of it. Aubrey obviously wasn’t all that squeamish. “You think I’m going to sleep with the dogs?”

  She hesitated a moment, then pursed her lips, as if to say, who knows? “Molly likes men, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she jumps onto your side of the bed. Jax’ll stay with me, though.”

  “Maybe you ought to come onto my side, too.”

  “We already talked about that.”

  “I remember. No sex.” I adopted a considering expression. “I’ll bet you that the time will come, when you’re crawling over those pillows along with Molly. I’ll remind you of your ‘no sex’ vow then. If you want it, you’re going to have to beg.”

  “I’ve never begged for anything in my life,” she replied haughtily.

  I laughed then. She was so damned fiery. I suddenly wanted to shut her mouth with my own, press her up against the wall, rip her jeans down and then drag my lips downward until I could taste that sweet little pussy hidden beneath the frilly underwear she wore.

  “They should be here soon,” she finally said, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “The dogs, that is. Hope they didn’t give Carrie too much trouble.” She was referring to the expensive dog sitter that I’d hired to drive Jax and Molly down to South Beach, so they wouldn’t have to fly in the cargo area while Aubrey and I enjoyed the first class cabin of a 767.

  “You miss them?”

  “I do.”

  “Even their farts?” I asked with a smile.

  Her cheeks grew pinker. “I don’t mind.”

  “I think you’re the first chick I’ve ever met who doesn’t mind farts,” I mused. “How about getting your leg humped? Do you mind that?”

  “Shut up.”

  “So I guess I shouldn’t hump your leg.”

  She smiled then--she clearly couldn’t help it. I counted that as a major victory, since it was the first real smile she’d given me in a while.

  We’d spent the last two weeks planning the move, providing flimsy excuses to family and friends, packing up her belongings and managing all the other little details that came along with a big event like this. I wasn’t going to lie--it had been a stressful time. Stressful more for Aubrey than me, as she was going to an entirely new scene with a man she didn’t know, while I was simply going home with a woman I seriously wanted to fuck.

  We’d done some arguing, and she’d done some crying. She’d also made a science of refusing every one of my efforts to cheer her up. I could see that what we were doing wasn’t going to be easy on her. Apparently, I was really ripping her world up around her ears, even if she did stand to make a good buck from it. So now that we’d finally arrived in South Beach, I was hoping that we could get to know each other much, much better, without relatives and friends getting in our face about it.

  “How about I show you how things work around here,” I offered, and held up the House iPad, which I used to control the various automated services in the penthouse. “This is Rocky. He’s gonna be your new best friend.”

  I turned the iPad so she could see Rocky’s face, a CGI animation of a squirrel with an aviator’s helmet on.

  A smile twitched the corners of her lips. Even that little grin was enough to take my breath away. It made me lose my train of thought. It made me see stars.

  “Rocky and Bullwinkle,” she murmured. “That’s going way back.”

  “Say hello to Rocky,” I urged, and pressed a button that would capture her voiceprint.

  “Hi, Rocky,” she murmured.

  I glanced down at the iPad.

  The message Voiceprint Captured appeared on the screen. I discreetly took a picture of her, assigned her to the voicepoint, and gave her admin privileges. “Rocky knows you now,” I said.

  Her smile became warmer. “Very cool.”

  “It’s amazing what’s out there if you have enough cash.” I grabbed her hand and led her into the living room. A black leather sofa, leather chairs, and glass coffee table all sat in front of a long rectangular gas fireplace that was dwarfed by the massive eighty-eight inch television above it. I opened a cabinet and pointed out the top-of-the-line home theater speaker system and Windows desktop that could serve up just about any movie she’d like to see, all of it controlled by Rocky.

  “You want to see the picture on this beauty?” I asked. “Its ultra-high definition with quantum dot technology.”

  She shrugged. “Why not?”

  I tapped a few of Rocky’s buttons on the House iPad. Suddenly, we were watching a big-breasted blonde humping a guy in a space suit. Tits bouncing, a dude thrusting, cocks, pussies, everything wet and raunchy.

  Her eyes widened. She gasped.

  I quickly turned it off. “Space Nuts. Ever see it?” I asked nonchalantly, though inside, I was cursing myself for leaving that particular porn vid on before I left.

  She rolled her eyes. “I usually stick to The Learning Channel.”

  “Of course.” Silently praying that there’d be no more surprises, I brought her into the kitchen. I was still holding the iPad and, once more, I poked at a few of Rocky’s buttons. The shades on the windows slowly began to open, revealing an ocean glowing in the light of the setting sun.

  “Wow,” she said. “Amazing view.”

  “Wait until you see it at sunrise.” I pressed more of Rocky’s buttons, and various kitchen appliances came to life--a coffee maker, a crock pot, the big Viking pro range, the double-sized Jenn-Air refrigerator, my Dacor wine steward.

  She watched all of this with an expression of guarded amazement and, when I shut them all down, she shook her head. “Does Rocky cook for you, too?”

  “No, Rosa does that. But my kitchen is your kitchen. If you want to cook, have at it.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She started walking toward a telescope near the kitchen table. As soon as my gaze fastened on the telescope, I recalled where it had last been pointing.

  Shit.

  I tried to head her off. “Come on, let me show you the patio.”

  But she just kept going for the telescope.

  “Hey, Aubrey,” I tried, aware my voice sounded desperate. Goddamn, I hoped my neighbor wasn’t up to her usual antics…

  Aubrey surveyed the apartment complex next door, then put her eye to the telescope’s eyepiece. “What the hell…” she murmured. A second later, her head shot up and she took a step away from it. “Spying on your neighbor?”

  I shrugged, like it was nothing. “My buddies and I, we watch her sometimes. I think she knows her apartment faces mine, so she gives us a show. But I don’t actually know her,” I added quickly.

  “She’s naked, laying on her bed,” Aubrey choked out, her voice tight. “Playing with herself, for Chrissakes.”

  “I’m not surprised.” I made a face. “Disgusting, isn’t it?’

  She let out a deep, highly annoyed breath. “You’re going to pretend you don’t enjoy watching?”

  I marched over to the telescope and pushed it roughly aside. “That’s it, that’s the last time she’s gonna do her dirty little moves in front of me.”

  With a loud hmph, Aubrey marched out to the big, panoramic deck with its infinity pool and woven patio furniture. I followed her, my mind racing ahead, trying to remember what else might be laying around. A woman I’d dat
ed for about a month had really been into BDSM, and had stocked my penthouse with dog collars, high-heeled leather boots, nipple clips, giant dildos, anal beads--you name it, she’d wanted to try it. We’d broken up awhile ago, but all at once, I couldn’t remember if I’d thrown all of that gear out or not…

  It was in this state of high alert that I escorted Aubrey around the rest of the penthouse, pressing Rocky’s buttons and silently praying that we didn’t stumble across any dildos. We inspected the dining room, my office, the exercise room and even the mudroom, where we got a close-up view of the pizza box stinking the place up. The only room we had yet to tour was the master bedroom suite, with its spa-like bathroom that I felt certain would thrill the pants off her. I guided her in that direction, bringing her into the bedroom and stopping at the foot of my king-sized bed.

  “So this is where we sleep,” she said, with the same tone someone might use to refer to a firing squad.

  “It’s big, isn’t it?” I made an expansive gesture with my hand. “You’re gonna have to text me if you want me to know something, we’re so far apart.”

  She moved over to the pillows and picked one up. Fluffed it.

  I saw a flash of black and my gut clenched.

  Did she see it?

  She nodded with approval. “At least there’s nice, big pillows. Have any others?”

  My gut relaxed. Disaster avoided, apparently. “There’s some in the closet, in the exercise room.”

  “Good. I’ll get them later.”

  “You gonna build the Great Wall of China between us?”

  “You’d better believe it.” She smiled at me then, a challenging smile.

  “Well, don’t make it too big. It’ll be tough for you to crawl over.”