Wolf's Fake Bride (Shifter Marriage Service Book 1)

"One would think so… But on the other hand… And in any case, he's not here right now."

"Do you know where he is? Or how long he's gone?"

"No."

"This is all very strange. I can't see him changing his mind."

"The other buyers seemed very confident."

"I thought you hadn't met them."

"Well, no, but-"

Jo was growing impatient. Something was amiss here, and she had a feeling that Holly knew what it was but was being coy. She needed to think.

"Look, I can't talk now, Holly. Find out the price, if you can, and we'll talk then."

Instead, she called Trey, telling him what had happened. They chatted for a good while and came to the conclusion that no other buyers existed. Holly had invented them, in an attempt to bolster Jo’s offer price and raise her own commission, which she would already be forced to split with the listing realtor.

“It’s an old trick. Of course, I’m just guessing. I have no evidence. I’ll talk to her tomorrow and see what I can learn. I’ll get back to you.”

Jo thanked him and went to shower. The boat was so cramped. She was grateful to Hank and Patty but was so ready to move into a bigger place, even if half of it was a wreck that had to be salvaged. Squeezing out of the small stall, she did her best to dress in the manner requested, paying special attention to her makeup and hair.

She needed to be devastating. Someone that could completely blow a man away to the point where he was willing to give up his vow of singledom to marry her in short order. It was meant to be love at first sight.

Looking appreciatively in the mirror, her reflection revealed a woman who was both down to earth and classic, but sultry in a way that would attract any man of a certain taste. Her biggest concern was her acting ability. She could look the part with her long blond hair and petite figure, but could she appear believable?

Taking one final deep breath, she made her way to the car and drove to the bar. It was getting late and he would already be there when she arrived. She was not to notice him, merely sit at the bar and wait for him to make his move.

“It’s showtime,” she said aloud before stepping out of the car and walking across the parking lot.

Several dog whistles followed her as she made her way, wordless appreciation from bikers gathered outside the bar. She ignored them and went inside, not bothering to look around. To do so would risk making eye contact with him without thinking. Instead, she found her way to the bar and ordered a drink.

“Let me get that for you,” a voice said from beside her.

“No, thank you,” she replied, not bothering to look at him. “I’ve got it.”

“Awh, now. Don’t be like that. Let a man buy you a drink.”

She was about to respond again when the bartender spoke up.

“Feck off, Paul. The lass is tryin’ ta be polite. Let it be,” he said in a thick Irish accent.

“Fuck you, Tank,” the man muttered as he disappeared somewhere behind her.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“Aye. No place for the likes of ya here. Finish yer drink and find better digs,” he barked before moving away to pull a pint for another patron.

“Great,” she muttered. So far, this wasn’t going so well. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long before King rescued her from this portion of their ploy.

Nursing her drink, she waited, focusing on her phone to avoid making eye contact with anyone else that might want to hit on her while she waited for the scene to begin. She was relieved when she saw King pulling out a stool to sit beside her. The game was on.CHAPTER TEN“I’ve not seen you here before,” he said, motioning for Tank to bring him a beer.

“I’ve not been here before,” she replied.

“What brings you here now?”

“I just moved here. I’m buying a house. It’s been a hectic week and I thought I’d duck out for a drink. Is that a crime in this town?”

“No. You’re feisty, huh?” he laughed.

Jo tried to step outside herself. This was all unscripted, an improvised meeting of two single adults who might want to get to know one another. She met his gaze, drank him in. He was attractive, it wasn’t so hard to feign interest in him. It was her guess that it might be harder to remember that this was just a job as she let herself respond as she normally would to his playful banter, laughing in the right places and leaning toward him in order to be seen responding to him.

Chatting led to dancing and dancing led to kissing, not play kissing, but actual kissing for the sake of appearances. His mouth was hot, eager. She had to wonder how much of this was pretend and how much of it was attraction. A part of her wanted him to want her, but for what purpose?