My Fake Husband: A Secret Baby Romance (Rockford Falls 2)

This was nothing. He touched my neck. His fingers barely skated along my skin before the whisper of a touch was gone. My face flamed, and I had to look away.

“Thanks for sitting with us tonight. It helped take my mind off things,” I said.

“Still feeling down?” he asked, concern in his voice.

I lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, “I’m okay.”

“Listen, what are your options?”

“Um, let’s see… I can magically motivate my landlord to repair the thousands of dollars of plumbing damage and then have the place professionally cleaned and get my insurance to replace the ruined cooler and take a loss on the flowers I had in stock and on order. Or I can hope to score the jackpot on a scratch-off lotto ticket and buy my building. I mean, that was my goal—buying it, not playing the lottery. I’ve got a little saved, but not much. I can’t get a loan at this point, because I can’t use my house for collateral. I’ve got a mortgage on it.”

I paused, “I don’t have anything of value I can sell. I bought my car used and that was eight years ago. I don’t think it’s legal to sell a kidney,” I gave a bitter laugh.

“So all you need is collateral?”

“Yeah, that’s all,” I said sarcastically. “Which is like saying all I need is a long-lost rich uncle to leave me a fortune or all I need is my rat bastard landlord to feel generous and give me the building for my birthday. Pretty damn impossible.”

“What’s the purchase price? I mean, I could lend you the money myself.”

“No. That’s very sweet of you, but I’m not borrowing money from you. What if something happened and I couldn’t pay you back?”

“You mean what if you suddenly became a very different person and started racking up credit card debt with all your tropical vacations and spray tans and flashy jewelry? You have an eight-year-old used car and a one-bedroom house. You’re at that shop every waking hour and you’re one of the most responsible people I know.”

“Look, it’s a nice thought, but no thank you. I wouldn’t be comfortable doing that. And it’s not your job to solve all my problems. But thank you for offering,” I said, flustered, wanting to run out the door and hide. He offered to loan me the money? Who does that?

“Not all your problems. Just the financial one. What other problems do you have?”

“Um, let’s see. My car has an oil leak. My mom wanted me to get married like two years ago. I can’t find my garage door opener. That’s about it.”

“Trixie,” he said. For one second, I didn’t hate my name like I always had. “For one thing, I can take a look at the oil leak and probably fix it for you. My house is paid off. I inherited it free and clear from my grandpa. I’ve never had a house payment so I have a lot of savings. I can help you out. “

“Really? Then why don’t you just marry me and find my garage door opener while you’re at it?” I joked.

“Okay,” he said without hesitation.

Wait. What the hell just happened?

6

Damon

We stared at each other like we’d just been in an accident and didn’t know quite what had happened.

She’d jokingly proposed, and I’d readily accepted. That was unexpected, to say the least. I knew she was joking. I registered her sarcasm even as she said it. But I still said okay. What did that mean?

Trixie shook her head. “I was just kidding, Damon.”

I glanced down at the table, at her hand, pale and small. I felt a shift, some strange urge to protect her. I covered her hand with mine. As soon as I did, I felt a jolt like electricity, a kick in my blood from the contact. I held her cold hand in mine, warmed it. She was holding my hand back, her fingers laced through mine. I kept looking at them, the way my tanned, work-roughened skin looked against her paler, softer hand. Her eyes met mine, and I could tell she felt the same shock that I had.

I pulled my hand away. “Why not? We’re consenting adults. If we were married, you could use my house as collateral to secure the loan. We could use some of my savings for the down payment.”

“No way. This is crazy,” she said, eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that? Why would anyone do that? Just offer to freaking marry someone so they could get a loan and save their business?”

“It wouldn’t have to be a real marriage. Just—like a marriage of convenience. People married for property all the time back in the day. It wouldn’t be forever—I don’t expect you to like, bear me five healthy sons or some archaic shit like that. We’d just stay married until you had the loan for the building and the repairs and got back on your feet. It’s not like you wouldn’t make the payments on the loan. I trust you. You’re not going to get my house repossessed or something.”