by Jolie Day
Note to self: Don’t jump to conclusions. Also, she’s gorgeous when she’s embarrassed.
“I’ll do it,” she started.
“What?”
“I’ll move in.” She looked at me with a serious expression.
Hell. I hadn’t expected that. Not so quickly, anyway.
I assumed she’d want to think it over for at least a day. But it was fine with me. She could stay here. I supposed she’d say no to the pretend fiancée deal, though—I wouldn’t bring that up now—so I’d have to figure out that issue later.
At least she was moving in.
“Great.” I smiled. “I’ll call up some movers to help out, and get one of the spare rooms ready for you immediately. Or by the end of the month? The sooner the better. Right?” Shit. Was I pushy? “Anyway. Considering the technicalities,” I continued, “I’ll have to get a spare key for you, but don’t worry about anything. I’ve got you covered.”
“End of the month…” She smiled nervously at my unusual kindness but seemed to have more to say.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I mean I’ll do it all—I’ll pretend to be your fiancée.” Her eyes burned into mine, clearly anticipating my reaction.
Whoa.
Bingo.
That jolted me right to one hundred percent awake.
I had to admit she’d surprised me, and a wide grin spread across my face. I nodded and leaned against the door.
Now, that I did not see coming.
“So, you changed your mind?” I asked her. Obviously, duh. Maybe we were still at, uh, let’s say, eighty-nine-point-five percent, so, what I’d really meant was why, how, when?
“Yeah,” she said.
“You didn’t want to miss out on being engaged to a stud like this after all, huh?” I pointed at my head, because the rest was still behind the door, including a not unimpressive semi—an acknowledgment to her perky nipples.
She gave me one of her signature eye rolls. “Miles, just take the win, okay? It’s too early for jokes,” she said, stroking the cat.
“It’s never too early for jokes. Good decision, though.” Eyeing her, I felt my excitement rising. “How about you come over after work, and we can discuss everything further.”
She seemed to consider that before she nodded. “All right, sounds fair. I’ll see you later, then.”
Rose turned, and I couldn’t help watching the movement of her ass through the thin robe as she rushed to her apartment door.
“Ha.” I cracked up at her weird manner this morning. She couldn’t get away fast enough. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why.
I closed my door.
She was likely nervous about the whole thing. Hell, so was I. But I had no doubt that we’d be able to pull it off. She was, after all, a smart woman.
The hard part was done—convincing her.
Now, we just needed to get our stories straight and convince my father. Fuck yeah!
I couldn’t wait to tell Damon. The son of a bitch. He thought it was a shitty idea, but here we were, perfect, and ready to go. Inheritance, here I come. It was the best idea I could’ve had. Mood improved, and with a swing in my step, I headed for my kitchen. While getting a cup of coffee, I considered what it’d be like to have her here.
I looked down at my naked body.
I thought about her naked body under that white robe.
Pretending to be into the chick would be easy.
I had this in the bag. No problem. Piece of cake, motherfuckers!
Then I remembered the hug.
12
ROSE
Inside my apartment, I leaned my back against my closed door and placed Daisy on the floor.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
My heart was beating so fast, I wasn’t sure if it was because of the massive decision I’d just made official, or the fact that Miles was naked behind the door. I felt laughter bubble up my chest and let it out. After all the stress I’d been through, the weirdo seemed to be a comedic streak of light in my darkness. No matter how much he turned me on, it was still pretty funny that he just walked around naked and expected that I’d want to come inside for a full view.
I’d enjoyed the view, though, of his wide shoulders with tattoos running across one, as well as his chest and biceps that I’d only glimpsed before. His body looked hot, and my mind had automatically imagined the door becoming a glass screen and what his dick might have looked like this morning. Maybe he even had some morning wood going on, maybe he was stiff as a rod… I shook my head at myself and chuckled. God, Rose. Keep it in your damn pants.
Especially now, since I’d be seeing him every freaking day for six whole months.
I tried to take a deep breath and steel my nerves for what lay ahead.
I’d need to be strong.
I’d need to be determined.
I’d need to be unyielding.
Miles was a heartthrob. The heartthrob of all heartthrobs. And a player. I’d known this all along, and it was what had irked me about him in the beginning.
I mean, to each their own, but how he’d ever think I would fall for him and his tricks was a miracle to me. Says the woman who’d just agreed to move in with him. I just needed to keep in mind that I was a classy and dignified woman (mostly), nothing like the chicks he always had around.
Reminding myself of all the vile things he usually kept himself busy with and about the way we’d annoyed each other in the past, I tried to push my attraction to him aside and forget it. As I’d said, I needed to stay strong, determined, and unyielding. Miles was still the jerk he’d always been, no matter how nice he’d been to me in the past twenty-four hours.
I pushed away from the door and went to the bathroom to begin my morning routine. I still had a job and a lot of work to do. Getting dressed always empowered me, and I liked considering my mood and what I needed to portray or express that day.
Today, I needed to feel like a warrior. I chose a red office dress that was slightly off the shoulders. It was a power dress, and I paired it with black wedges and an elegant black handbag. I strode out of my apartment feeling slightly more in control.
After a call with Juliette, in which I informed her of my decision, she’d squealed in happiness even before I told her I’d won a million bucks—which basically, I had. I kept considering my life. Yes, I’d hit a bump, but I had the solution at hand to make the money I needed to put a down payment on an apartment (much cheaper than my current one) but substantially better than what I could afford before.
I was still upset about my father, his debts, and even more so after I received another call from Mr. Sanford. First, he reminded me when I had to be out of my apartment: the end of the month. Luckily, he agreed to handle everything else, and even helped me select the things I would be allowed to keep, because their price wasn’t high enough to be of value to the IRS. On the bright side, I’d never cared much for the expensive furniture in the building. Dad had hired a decorator back then (not Eunice and Eugenia), and I was looking forward to starting fresh with my own belongings. Luckily, all the things my heart wanted to hang onto were the least expensive items: gifts, photos, letters. The IRS had no use for those.
Mr. Sanford helped arrange a storage facility for the stuff I was keeping, so I could use it later, and he offered his assistance to find a new place for me. In a nutshell, he was going out of his way to make it easy for me, and I was more than grateful.
But, Mr. Sanford’s hints about what a scandal like this might do to my family name had me on edge. He was all about image and reputation. “Tales of the Taylors’ daughter, who had lost everything because of her father’s debts, would spread like wildfire,” he’d said. “That it had catastrophe written all over it, and that I couldn’t let it happen. If the entire corporate society in New York City learned of my dad’s debts, my family name would be ruined, and so would I, he’d warned and repeated that it needed to remain on the down low. I was fine with that. I knew he meant well, a
nd I knew he was right. I didn’t want my dad’s name sullied in any way, and I didn’t want Dad’s old associates to view him in a different light. I wanted to keep our name and status from being ruined.
Any questions or gossip would just top off the nightmare of losing my father. I didn’t want fake pity from fake people. “Vultures,” Dad had called them. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to believe that my dad was the evil culprit people would make him out to be. Nor was he a fool who was to blame for his own debts. But it certainly didn’t quiet all the thoughts hammering in my mind.
Ah, Dad. I missed him and wished I could talk to him about it. However, being just like my father, I knew when a topic was exhausted, and it was time to move on.
I did feel nervous about moving into Miles’ place, but I needed this.
“Buck up,” Juliette had said. “You’ll be doing Miles a huge favor as well, no matter how much he’s paying you,” she had reminded me when I’d voiced my concerns earlier. So whatever we discussed this evening, I had some leeway, and I could be clear about our boundaries. I needed to remember to keep things light and casual. If Miles decided to reveal his “other side” again, I knew that any more of our bickering would surely cause further tension at this point, and that, I did not need.
No, I would keep things cool.
I was feeling a bit better by the end of the workday, having put in some good hours and gotten my mind straight regarding Miles.
Then, he texted me.
Miles: You’re gonna want to wear those tight-ass jeans of yours tonight. Sincerely, Mr. Prick.
I chuckled at the sign-off, but the jeans comment confused me, and my resolve faltered slightly. Why should I be wearing tight jeans to his apartment? Was he coming on to me? Hmm, he’d never say it like that, especially not after our last couple of conversations. It was simply a harmless joke. I mean, I had no problem wearing my favorite jeans, and he’d seen me in much, much sexier clothes.
I shrugged it off and went about my day.
That evening, I knocked on Miles’ door, wearing my jeans and a soft, checkered shirt, tucked in. I had a camisole underneath. My hair was loose, and the curls hung over my shoulder. I had on my favorite boots, completing the ensemble.
Miles opened the door and took a nice, long look at my outfit.
“Perfect.” He smiled, before grabbing his keys and walking out the door. I noticed he had on his jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket combo today.
“What’s happening?” I asked. “Are we going somewhere?”
“We are,” Miles said as he pressed the elevator button and shifted to look at me again. “We’re going to take my bike out to the pier.”
I felt the rising need to retaliate but remembered my resolve to keep things cool, so I mentally shrugged and went with it.
When we reached his Ducati in the parking garage, Miles grabbed a second leather jacket and a helmet from the trunk of his car and handed it to me. I put on the large coat, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to strap the helmet on, so he helped me.
“You’ve never been on a bike before, right?” he asked as he stood close.
How the hell did he know? I smelled his cologne, the same one as last night. It was intoxicating.
“Nope,” I replied, feeling slightly out of breath, given the direction this evening was taking. Oh, not because I didn’t know how to strap the helmet on, because he thought I was boring.
Miles smiled naughtily at me and chuckled. “Well, then, this should be fun.”
“Are you sure?”
When he finished strapping my helmet on, he put his hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes. “Okay, remember if I lean the bike into a curve, it’s fine. It might feel like we’re dropping too low to the side, but just try to relax. We won’t fall. I promise.”
“Pinky promise?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Pinky promise.”
“Okay,” I said, already panicking. Is he serious? Lean into the curve? We won’t fall or drop? I sort of want to puke, but I’ve got this. Show no fear. No. Fear.
“Hold on tight, but don’t suffocate me.” He cracked up as I began to feel even more nervous than before—he must have noticed my cheeks burning and likely turning pink, purple, or red. “It can be scary if you’ve never been on a bike, but don’t try to push against it. Trust me.”
I nodded.
“You do trust me, right?” he asked.
“I trust you.” Aww, we just had a “Titanic” moment. Not that he realized it.
“Good. Just relax and follow my movements.”
With the helmet on, I nodded my now-heavy head and took a deep breath to calm my nerves.
After putting his helmet on as well, Miles climbed onto the bike and gestured for me to follow, signaling where to put my foot. It looked like a very powerful bike, with not much space for two people, and I began to doubt my confidence. Slowly, I lifted a leg over the bike and plopped down on the wide leather seat behind him. I already felt shaky and insecure. Plus, I realized that our bodies were going to be pressed completely together for the entire ride. At this first point of contact, my groin was already tucked in nicely against his ass. I took a breath of strength.
“Hold on tight,” Miles said with a sly smile, giving me a sidelong glance before the engine loudly revved to life.
Just about shitting myself, I immediately grabbed onto his waist.
The bike pulled forward with speed, and my arms involuntarily wrapped tighter around him. I didn’t hear his chuckle, but I knew for certain that he had.
I knew he was enjoying this. Ass.
Strangely enough, once we were on the road and winding in between cars and buses, I began to enjoy the ride. Really enjoy it. This was so different. Sitting there on this powerful machine, in the open, going so fast. It was super fun! I understood where the thrill came from and why bikers loved it. The first turn we took was just as he described. It felt odd leaning so deeply to the side—and yes, my very first instinct was to try and lean in the opposite direction, but I remembered Miles’ words and relaxed my body while holding onto him. Miles clearly knew what he was doing. He seemed to have complete confidence in himself while riding this machine. I had my arms wrapped tightly around him, and as my body relaxed, I could begin to assess the situation. My arms were wrapped around his waist, but my hands were physically holding onto his stomach, and I moved my fingers slightly, feeling the hard muscles underneath the jacket.
Not gonna lie. Being pushed up against him in these tight jeans meant there was pressure against my lady bits, and it created deep warmth within me. With the addition of the engine vibrations and exhilaration of the fast ride, I was in a teensy bit of trouble concerning my rising libido right now.
None too soon, we arrived at the beautiful pier, and he pulled to a stop.
Miles tapped my knee, indicating that I should get off first. I struggled, but once my toe hit the ground, I held onto his shoulder and climbed off. He kicked out the footrest and slowly got off. After removing my own helmet, I stood facing him with what I knew were incredibly flushed cheeks and my hair in a complete mess.
He took one look at me and chuckled.
“Ha. Well, how was that for you?” he asked, smirking rather too proudly for my liking.
I realized the innuendo was aimed at the state I was in and began straightening myself.
“It was actually pretty fun.” I let out a breath and laughed. “Exhilarating.”
I looked into his eyes as I said that, and we were frozen for a moment. He stood in the sunlight with the water behind him, his hair wild from his helmet, standing all over the place. His cheeks and strong jawbones opposed the cold air, and his eyes were filled with excitement. I wanted to reach into his hair and pull on the sun-kissed strands. The seconds dragged on forever, until I finally broke eye contact and walked over to the fence line.
Slowly, I leaned against it and stared down at the water below and then back up at the beautiful sunset in front of us. How rom
antic! It was spectacular enough to win Best Sunset of the Century Award, and I half-expected a number of photographers to show up. Fortunately, there was a yawning emptiness around us. The sole sound was the gentle rustling of the water, which was occasionally accompanied by chirping birds. I was amazed that we had this wonderful place all to ourselves and didn’t have to share it. We had such a perfect view of the fiery sun sinking steadily toward the water that I almost expected to hear a hiss of steam as the two met. I stood and stared at the natural spectacle unfolding before us.
Miles appeared at my side, having removed his jacket, and hanging it over the handlebar of his bike. He leaned his muscular arms on the fence as well.
“They say the sea’s not a landscape, it’s the experience of eternity,” he said uncharacteristically.
“How beautiful.”
“I’ve read that somewhere. Can’t remember where. So, you’re feeling better today?”
“I am.” I squinted at him after admiring the sunset. “I decided not to dwell on what I can’t change.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Besides, it’ll be a lot easier to piss you off from inside your place.” I laughed playfully, and he arched a brow.
“Oh, my dear, then it’s still Game. Fucking. On.” He dragged out the last part of the sentence with sheer wickedness in his eyes. I shook my head and shifted to stare at the beautiful view. I felt him leave for a moment, then return to my side.
Suddenly, he handed me a hefty yellow envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked and began to open it.
“It’s our contract, starting the day you move in. We need to make this deal official.”
I pulled out a stack of papers that were folded in half, and a check for five hundred thousand dollars fell into my hand from in between the papers. My eyes widened at the sight.
“It’s your first installment.” He smiled at me. “There’s six months until my birthday. Once those six months are up, you get the other half. There’s also an NDA in there because this cannot get out to my father, to anybody, really. No matter how quiet we try to be about our arrangement, gossip spreads like wildfire in this city, and we don’t want him catching wind of it.”
