Fake Wife (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 8)

Charlie sipped his drink, glaring at me over the bottle. “I didn’t know if you’d say yes,” he finally said. “What was I supposed to do? Spend all that money and then have it be tossed back in my face?”

“Is any guy ever really sure of that?”

“I guess not, but—”

“Yet, they always come prepared, with lots of bling.”

“She’s right, buddy,” Eddie said, shaking his head as if Charlie had shamed his entire gender. “I didn’t even realize you kids were dating.”

“We’re not,” I said sternly. “Apparently, Charlie wants to skip that part and just get hitched.”

“Wow. I thought it’d be the other way around,” Eddie said suspiciously staring at him.

“What do you mean, Eddie?” I asked.

“Most guys are happy to take the milk without buyin’ the cow,” Eddie said in his own charming way.

“Not this one. He’s totally the opposite. He’s literally been begging me to marry him, before we even date! Before he even gets the milk! Haven’t you, honey?”

“What can I say?” Charlie said with a shrug. “I never forgot her.”

“Nobody can ever forget their one true love,” I said, happy to play along. “I’ve been thinking, sweetie...”

“Uh-oh. A guy should never like the sound of that,” Eddie chimed in as he wiped down a dirty glass.

“Thinking about what?” Charlie asked, taking the bait.

“Now I’ve been thinking, sweetie. What should we name our kids?”

He choked on his mouthful of beer and I cracked up laughing. “Kids? Aren’t four dogs enough?”

I laughed. “C’mon. Dogs. A house. Kids. A white picket fence. A minivan. It’s all part of the stereotypical American dream.”

“And I want that ‘white picket fence’ dream.”

“Let’s clarify that, shall we? You want the entire package minus the kids, minivan, and growing old together.”

“Are you taking on the old ball and chain or what?” Eddie asked me.

I smirked.

Charlie set down his beer and looked at me. “You know, you’ve never given me an actual answer.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m still considering that super-romantic proposal you gave me right before I clocked in at work.”

He pondered, then picked up his beer and softly clanged his bottle against mine. “Listen, everyone has a price. What’s yours?”

It was time to up the ante. I met his gaze straight on. “How about...one million dollars?”

His jaw dropped. “Seriously? Half my inheritance? Are you trying to make me atone for my sins?”

I shrugged a shoulder casually and took a gulp of beer. “That’s my price.”

He shook his head in astonishment. “You drive a hard bargain, missy. I’ll think about it, maybe sleep on it for a week or two.”

I held my hand to my ear. “I’m sorry. What did you say? I can’t hear you over the price of my freedom because I’ll be shackled to you. And that better be a damn good payout!”

He sipped his beer. “I’ll truly give it some thought.”