Page 16 of One Pucking Heart

Jogging across the room, I look out onto the street. Just as I guessed, a man, across the street a block down, holds a camera with a long-distance lens. As soon as Elena mentioned private investigators, I knew her father would have one stationed somewhere to catch Elena’s reaction to the news. Who knows how long she’s been followed? Maybe her whole adult life. Her father certainly has the money to blow on an around-the-clock PI.

Making a mad dash toward the stairwell, I run down several flights of stairs and exit the building. Jogging over to the parking structure’s exit, I wait until Elena pulls out of the building, then step in front of her car.

She hits the brakes and climbs out of her car. “Are you crazy, Beckett?”

Stepping toward her, I press the front of my body up against hers, circling my hand around the back of her neck. Her eyes go wide. “There’s a PI across the street with a camera. Try to look like you like this. It will make our story more believable.”

With that, I crash my mouth to hers, taking what I’ve wanted since the moment she walked into that hospital room with Hootie. Maybe she’s right about me. Most of what she said rang true. I haven’t had a hard life, and I can act like a child. The fact is, this immature asshole wants the goddess before him, whether he deserves her or not.

She doesn’t pull away, and she tastes like sweetness and mint as her lips move against mine. I step closer, my body pushing her against the side of her car. She trails her hands up my chest and circles them around my shoulders. Her touch causes a moan to escape. I’ve wanted her hands on me for a month now. My tongue enters her mouth and dances with hers. This time, it’s my fiancée who moans, and the sound makes me instantly hard. Fuck yes.

I kiss her long and hard, devouring her. I kiss her like she’s the breath giving me life. Like she’s the answer to every question and the destination of every journey. I kiss her like I can’t get enough of her. Which I can’t. This kiss is everything, not because it’s fake but because it isn’t.

Moving my hips, I press my stiff length against her as we kiss, needing some friction. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want Elena Cortez. I’d take her right here in front of the parking garage for everyone to see if I could. I want to claim her. Hear her scream my name. I need her body shaking, on the precipice of release, begging me to give her everything, and I would.

I’d give her the fucking world.

But for now, this kiss will do.

I take her bottom lip in mine, biting it gently, and pull my face an inch from Elena’s. Her eyes are unfocused, and her breaths heavy. “Let’s see what your daddy thinks of the chemistry between you and your new fiancé.” I press my lips against hers in a chaste kiss and squeeze her hand before stepping away. “I’m going to go home and shower. We’ll get together tonight to go over the details of our relationship. Though I think you should move into my place because it’s bigger.”

I kiss her again—this time short and sweet—before I turn away, a giant smile on my face. Let the photographer see that. There’s no feigning this grin because nothing about that kiss was fake.

Maybe the marriage will be a ruse, but it’ll be fun regardless.

Bad knee or not, nothing is wrong with my game. The woman who says she’s not the least bit into me just moaned in my mouth as she fought to get closer.

I think I’ll like this marriage gig.

CHAPTER NINE

ELENA

I’ve officially gone insane. Let’s be honest, it was always a possibility, but it’s now official. I have lost my mind. These thoughts scream the loudest as I pace back and forth across Beckett’s living room.

He’s going on about how I should move my stuff here and get rid of my apartment because a married person doesn’t hold on to their apartment “just in case.” Truthfully, the apartment is the least of my concerns. I have no emotional attachment to the place I’ve called home for several years. It’s a subpar apartment in a crappy neighborhood. I lived there because it was cheap, and now that I make money, I can afford something else. When this is all said and done, I’ll get a better home—maybe even buy a house. So the apartment can go. It’s all the other stuff that has me feeling uneasy.

Am I really going to go through with this?

I’ve done nothing but go over the pros and cons of this arrangement since Beckett suggested it. There’s really only one pro, and that’s not giving millions of dollars and an empire of companies to one of the worst people in the world. The thought is so maddening, and it’s the reason I’m here. I suppose a second would be, as Beckett said, I could do a lot of good with that money. The ideas I have running through my head would cause my father to roll over in his grave. He’s never cared about anyone but himself. He has more money than he can possibly spend, yet he’s never reached out to help the less fortunate.

It’s a concept I don’t understand. The sheer amount of money he has is doing nothing for him. There are so many people struggling right now. Just a small fraction of his fortune would seriously change the lives of so many.

My father doesn’t know struggle like I do. He was born into wealth and inherited Cortez Industries from his father. He was handed everything on a silver platter. Maybe it’s hard to put himself in others’ shoes when he can’t wrap his mind around what it means to struggle. Yet he’s not an idiot, nor an animal. He has higher-level thinking skills. One doesn’t have to go through the horrors of this world to know they’re out there. All he has to do is turn on the television or read an article to see. Most humans have the ability to empathize with others. I say most because I really don’t know if he does.

The cons are too numerable to wrap my mind around. There are so many. A new one pops into my head every second. “What about my job? I can’t jeopardize that.”

Beckett’s blue eyes find me from where he sits on the sofa, completely at ease. The guy is an anomaly. “We can date and marry within the Crane organization. That’s not a problem. I think there’s a form we have to fill out in HR, and we’re good to go.”

“But what about my reputation? It’s offseason. I haven’t even had the chance to work with most of the players, and I’m already going to ‘marry’”—my fingers make air quotes because it’s warranted—“one of the players. That’s not a good look, Beckett.”

“You live in this strange world where you think people care about other’s lives a lot more than they do. In reality, everyone is focused on their own life. They care about themselves and worry about their own issues. The guys will be happy for us, and they’ll move on. No one will lose sleep over what we’re doing except maybe your father and that cousin.”

Blowing out a breath, I tug my fingers through my hair as I continue to pace. “What do we tell others? I don’t want to lie to anyone, but if we tell them we’re doing it to appease my father and manipulate the will, it will surely get back to my father.”

Beckett scoffs. “We don’t tell anyone anything besides the story your father will hear. We fell in love and got married. That’s that. I don’t know if your father is as powerful as you say he is, but if what you say is true, we can’t risk anyone knowing the truth. If he has access to our phones, it would take one text message between friends to cue him in on the sham.”

“I can’t lie to Ari.” I press my fingers to my temples and rub them in circles in an attempt to ward off this impending headache.

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