Fake Wife (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 8)
“No! I mean a dog, a literal son-of-a-bitch!”
“Jaime, c’mon,” he pleaded.
“I said I’m going to bed. Now please move,” I muttered.
After a deep sigh, he finally stepped away.
I marched out the door and reached my room, expecting the dogs to be in tow, but they ran right into his bedroom instead. I opened my mouth to call them, then thought better of it. “For the record, I’d happily let them put you to sleep, Charlie...or at least neuter you!” I said, then slammed the door shut and locked it for good measure. I reached for a robe and wrapped it around me.
He knocked on the door and pleaded for me to talk to him. I refused to even answer. I thought the silent treatment was perfect for him. I flopped down the bed and fought back the angry tears that threatened to gush out of my eyes. There were enough of them lurking behind my eyes to rival Niagara Falls, but I refused to cry one of them over Charlie and his antics.
I shoulda known, I scolded myself.
He had only two weeks left to find a wife, and that deadline was making him desperate to convince me that we could make things work. Not only that, but he was the same old Charlie, always wanting something for nothing, such as all the sex with none of the commitment. At the bar, there was something more he wanted to say, something I saw lingering in his eyes, but he couldn’t even be honest with himself. What makes me think he’ll ever be honest with me? Like Marlene said, he can’t even spell commitment.
With that horrible thought on my mind and feeling more used and stupid than I’d felt in a long time, I rolled over and tried to sleep, only for Niagara Falls to erupt, unabated, all over my pillow.
Chapter 20
The next morning, I got up early to shower and dress for the work day. I wore my hair up in a tight bun with a white blouse and black slacks. When I opened the front door to leave, I realized that my car was still at the fencing club.
Shit!
Charlie wasn’t up yet, and neither were the dogs, so just to get in a little jab of my own, I swiped his truck keys and took off.
Two hours later, Charlie walked in, carrying Max with him and muttering under his breath. “Grand theft auto, huh?” he said as he set Max down. The pup whimpered and curled up at my feet behind the counter.
“Morning, Boss,” I said brightly. “Sorry about the truck. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind. Riley drove me to get your car, and then I drove it here.” He handed me my keys back.
“Thank you,” I said. “We have a full schedule today. I’ll get you a printout as soon as everything is organized.”
“Jaime, can we please not do this?” he asked quietly as Brad walked in from the back room.
“Do what? I’m perfectly fine,” I lied.
Fine my ass!
My heart was aching, bleeding all over the damn floor.
He obviously saw right through it, because he raised an eyebrow at me. “Seriously, we need to talk about—”
“Here are your messages,” I said very formally, cutting him off. “Also, you have three new clients coming in today. I’ll go get the room set up.” With that, I walked to the private room in the back and headed for the supply closet to grab the necessary equipment.
The door slammed shut behind me, and Charlie was there, leaning against the closet door with his arms crossed over his chest.
“I have work to do,” I said and waited for him to move.
I remembered how his soft lips had caressed mine ever so sweetly. Damn! Why couldn’t I break the spell this man put on me?
“I’m your boss, and I’m telling you to take a b
reak,” he said roughly. “We need to talk.”
“We don’t, Charlie, unless it has to do with work. As for last night, we just had sex, like two grown adults. We can and should just act like nothing happened,” I said, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt. “Look, it was just a heat-of-the-moment thing. It happens. It doesn’t mean we’re getting married, and it won’t happen again.”
“Why not?”