Fake Wife (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 8)

“Hmm. Well, I love drums,” he said. His lips twitched, and he leaned closer. “I’m sure you’re getting better at banging every day, and I bet you’ve got lots of rhythm.” His hand slipped from the bar and landed on my thigh. “In fact, I’m sure you’re pretty good at it by now.”

When he leaned even closer, taking my personal space hostage, my breath caught. I wanted him so badly, and I was tired of lying to myself about it, lying to both of us. When I looked in his eyes, though, I took pause. The world shifted, and all I saw was him walking away, leaving me behind, abandoning me just when I was ready to tell him the truth, when I was ready to be vulnerable enough to commit. I wasn’t lying about wanting to keep our friendship alive, but my heart ached when I thought of putting myself in that situation, only to see it shattered by the one man I wanted more than anything else in the whole damn world.

I put a little distance between us and gave his chest a gentle shove. “Still not saying yes,” I muttered. “Thanks for the drink, but I think it’s better if I just head home. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Charlie sighed, and there was a pronounced glimmer of disappointment in his eyes, one that made me question pulling away. “Well, who am I to stop you if that’s what you want? I wish you’d at least let me drive you home though.”

“I can walk. It’s not that far.”

“Wait. You walked here?”

“Yeah. Last time I checked, there’s no law against that.”

“Alone though?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, Jaime, it’s late...dark,” he practically growled as he stood and threw two twenties on the bar.

“Are you suggesting I can’t defend myself from creeps?” I said. “You know firsthand that I can. No mugger would have a chance against me.”

Eddie smiled as he scooped up the bills and bid both of us a good night. “Yeah, good luck with this one, buddy,” he said to Charlie, giving him a wink. “You’re sure as hell gonna need it.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve known that for years,” Charlie said with a smirk.

I had to roll my eyes as I headed for the door. If he’s known it for years, he wouldn’t have left me. He woulda made the first damn move instead of traipsing off across the country, sleeping with half the female population wherever he landed. I gripped my purse tighter as we ducked outside.

“Right over there,” he said, pointing at his truck.

“That old rust bucket? How is that clunker still even running?” I asked as I hopped inside.

He shrugged and slid behind the wheel. “Don’t make fun of my Molly,” he said, patting the dash consolingly, as if I’d kicked the thing. “She didn’t mean it, baby. I’m sure she missed you too.”

“Right. I really missed being squashed in the middle, straddling the damn stick shift when four of us crammed into the front seat,” I muttered.

“Oh, come on. You know you like to straddle sticks,” he said and glanced my way with a hungry look on his face before he turned to look over his shoulder to safely back out.

I laughed. He didn’t mean anything by it, he was just trying to lighten the mood and put me at ease.

“I can’t believe you still have this truck!” I said.

“My dad kept it for me while I traveled. I fixed it up and it was good to go. Plus, it’s sentimental.” He looked away and tears welled up in his eyes. “My dad gave me this truck.”

/> “I know how much you miss your dad,” I said. “We all miss him horribly.”

“My dad was my world. He’d always call me every Saturday afternoon.” His voice quivered. “I miss those phone calls so much.” I hugged him and he continued. “He would travel to meet me wherever I was staying for every single holiday. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him.”

“I know, sweetie.”

He let out all his feelings and opened up to me as I gave him words of comfort. We talked about it for a while before we left. My heart went out to him as he opened up to me. I knew how much he loved his father.

Chapter 11

When we got to my apartment, I was sure that would be the end of our night, but of course it wasn’t that easy; nothing with Charlie ever was. “Uh, what do you think you’re doing there, sunshine?” I asked when he opened his door and jumped out.

“Walking a dear friend and my future wife to her door,” he informed me sternly, albeit in the most charming way.

It was difficult to stifle my laugh, because it really was quite amusing. “Really, Charlie, I think I can make it from here.”