Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) - Page 303

On the other hand, this was going to blow up in my face no matter what I did. If I came clean, everything I was afraid of was going to happen. People would look at me funny for engaging in a fake marriage. Meredith would accuse me of trying to dupe her, and possibly use her influence to have me fired. The donors I’d already garnered could withdraw their support. My stomach burned with regret an

d embarrassment that I’d ended up in this position. I wanted to blame Tucker, but this had all started by my not telling Meredith the truth when she assumed I was married.

In light of all I was about to lose, maybe the fake marriage was my only chance to get out of this without losing my reputation, my friends, and my job. If Tucker was right in that Meredith would get bored with the project, it could work. Maybe. Possibly.

As he sat on my desk waiting for my response, it was clear, his way was the only one that could prevent my utter destruction of my life, as long as it worked.

“I suppose I don’t have much choice,” I said.

“There’s always a choice, Holly. You have to decide what you want and what’s the best way to get it. This can still work if you really want the library. And if we pull it off, which I totally think we can, you won’t have to endure whatever fallout you’d have by coming clean now.”

He was right. It was why I didn’t really have a choice, but I didn’t argue that. “I guess we’ll continue the plan, then.”

He smiled. “I’ll bring my stuff over tonight.”

Good God, had I really agreed to this? Was Tucker really going to be in my home? I was certain we could pull off being married. We did have a certain chemistry. But how would I avoid touching him? How could we maintain our friends without benefits? And what would happen if we were found out?

13

Tucker

I’d never lived with a woman before. Well, that’s not true. I lived with my mother, and for a short time I had a roommate who was a woman. But I’d never lived with a woman that I wanted to sleep with. So, I was a little discouraged when I arrived at Holly’s house and found an air mattress in a room that had been her home office.

“We can get a bed if you want,” she said, with a look that suggested she knew her accommodations were a bit lacking. I considered suggesting we share her bed, but I didn’t want her changing her mind and kicking me out before we had a chance to get started.

I’d already brought in a box of things I thought would be useful in the kitchen, and a couple of doo-dads for the living room.

“It needs to look like this is my space, too,” I explained when I put a picture of me and my mom skydiving on a shelf in the living room.

I brought my bag into the bedroom, discovering the air mattress that I was sure was too short for my tall frame. I pulled out my shirts and slacks and brought them to the closet to hang. I pulled open the door, and noted that it was hanging off-kilter.

I went back to my car, remembering that I’d brought my toolkit. If her porchlight and kitchen was any indication, odds were more areas of her home would need repairing.

“I’m sorry it’s all a bit run down. We had high hopes for fixing it up—”

“We?” I asked as I studied the door to figure out what specifically was the problem.

“Me and Rick, my ex.” She leaned against the bedroom door frame, looking down as she mentioned Rick’s name.

“He left you at the altar and with a new mortgage on a teacher’s salary?” What a dick.

She shrugged. “I’m on all the paperwork now, and I never gave back his part of the down payment.”

I grinned. “It’s the least he could pay for being an asshole.”

“The point I was making is that now that I’m the only one paying for the house, I don’t have a lot left over to fix it up. Or time.”

I nodded. “I get it. Thank goodness you have a handy husband like me.”

She flinched slightly, clearly not liking me referring to myself as her husband. She’d have to get used to it if Meredith Reynolds planned to hang around a lot.

There was a knock at the front door.

“I wonder who that is?” she said straightening from the doorframe. “I’ll go check.”

“I’ll be fixing the door,” I said as she headed back up the hallway.

I finished examining the door. The top hinge was loose and I hoped a simple tightening would fix it. If the threads pulled through the wood door, I’d need to get longer screws or refill the holes and then re-screw in the screws. Ten minutes later, the door was hanging straight and closing without rubbing.

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