Fake Wife (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 8)

“So that’s what all this knight-in-shining-armor bullshit is? You’re just a knight with his own agenda! This is a ploy to get me to say yes!”

He tilted his head back as I tried to smack him again. The smile fell from his face as he answered, “No, all right? It’s not. I’m just... You’re a friend who needs help, and I’m trying to be here for you. I’m in a position to help, so just let me. For goodness sake, quit being so damn stubborn and let someone help you.”

“You’re acting as if I’ve never accepted help in the past.”

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline, but he didn’t say another word. We just stared each other down for a solid minute before one of the movers stepped up behind him and cleared his throat.

“So, uh... Is the little lady movin’ or what?” the man asked. “We’re on the clock, man.”

“I don’t know yet,” Charlie said, then turned his gaze back on me. “Well, little lady? What do ya say?”

I didn’t want to say yes, but my hands were tied; I either had to move in with Charlie or call my mom and dad and beg them to let me come back with my dogs. I knew Mom would not allow my pets, no matter how hard I begged. I couldn’t get rid of my babies, especially not Max. So, with a defeated groan, I let my head fall forward onto his shoulder and nodded. “Just let me get the dogs leashed up, and I have to pack my stuff.”

“We can do that for ya, ma’am,” the mover said, pointing over his shoulder. “The boys have the boxes ready to go, and there’s plenty of bubble wrap if you need it. Don’t worry. All your things will be moved safely. It’ll show up at the new place good as new.”

After I rounded up the dogs and led them outside, I tied them to a bench so they could bask in the warmth of the November sun. I sat down beside them and leaned back to watch the movers as they worked.

Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets, stalked my way, and plopped down beside me.

“Let me guess,” I said quietly, not looking at him, “you’re going to deduct this from my cut of the million, right?”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head so his hair came loose from its ponytail holder.

“What then? You’re gonna hold this over my head forever? Spread it around town how much of a failure I am? Wait. I know. You’ll start a #Jaimesaloser all over Twitter, huh?”

“You’re not a failure or a loser,” he said, reaching out to take hold of my hand.

I didn’t want to let him touch me, but I couldn’t seem to find the strength to fight back, not right then.

“Why didn’t you say something if you were in trouble?”

I laughed. “Right, Charlie. I was just gonna say, ‘Hey, guys, how was your day? Oh, by the way, I got laid off, am overdue on all my bills, and I’m getting evicted because my landlord is a bastard!’” I yelled the last in the general direction of the leasing office, my chest heaving as my anger grew. “‘But, hey, let me just ask my best friend, who’s been harassing the hell outta me to marry his untamable and unreliable ass, if I can pretty please move in with him.’”

Charlie whistled. “Gee. Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” he mocked with a grin. “Go on and let it all out, girl.”

“Oh, I will. Don’t you worry about that,” I said, shoving my hair behind my ears.

The movers came out carrying more boxes, and I caught the label on the side of one, which caused my face to burn even hotter than before. It read: Delicates.

“Shit! They went through my underwear drawer!”

“They pack everything,” he said with a chuckle.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What’s the big deal? I’m sure they’ve seen worse. What was in it anyway? Please tell me it was sexy, lacy, frilly, skin-baring lingerie from Victoria’s secrets.”

I shoved him hard enough to knock him over on the bench before I burst out laughing.

“What? Men are genetically programmed to love women in black, satin underwear. And red too. Definitely red.”

I laughed, then went inside to pack up the remainder of my belongings myself, not keen on strangers digging through any more of my personals.

“Skimpy and lacy thongs, I bet!” he yelled from behind me just before I slammed the door.

ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, I walk

ed back out to the bench, sat down, and let out an exhausted sigh. “Thanks for everything.”