Page 2 of Fake Married to the Grumps

We both turn toward the door when the knock comes again, and my brother adjusts his suit jacket lapel before adding. “That’s Ethan. I told him to come at around this time.”

Ethan’s here?

I stiffen before the office door swings open, and I don’t get a second to steady myself before Ethan confidently strides in.

He brings the same aura of pride that has always clung to him. The first thing I notice is that smug smile that stays permanently on his lips.

“Miss me?” he announces in his usual full baritone that has always resonated through me. My world freezes for a second when the piercing depths of those brown eyes land on me.

The weight of it makes my breath hitch in my throat, and just like that, I’m reminded of the last time I saw him.

And how hurtful that night was.

My throat tightens as the memories come rushing back. Seeing Ethan dating another woman after months of flirting with him and thinking we had something had hurt worse than anything else.

I thought he liked me too … I thought we had something.

I was too young to understand it back then, but over the years, while Ethan’s playboy reputation gained traction in the media, I finally understood why he didn’t notice me back then.

It had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the fact that the man could never stick to one woman.

He flirted with anything in skirts, and I was lucky he never paid attention to me.

It’s been five years since the night he shattered my heart, and yet seeing him again brings those memories fresh into my mind.

The back of my neck heats up and leaves a tingle behind. My pulse races and adrenaline pumps through my veins.

“Ethan …” I murmur, then instantly cringe when I hear the trembling in my voice. I spent a lot of time trying to get rid of these feelings he ignites in me.

But just a second in his presence and they all come rushing back?

He takes a few steps closer to me, then thrusts his hands deep into his pants pocket. “The one and only,” he says with another smile. “Miss me?” he asks as he looks at Tom.

I don’t think that question is intended for my brother because Ethan whips his gaze over to me again and a quiver runs down my spine.

Five years and that hasn’t changed.How is that possible?

I wonder if Ethan recalls that night years ago when I thought to surprise him and show up for dinner with my brother.I let myself think he would be excited to see me because we had shared a wonderful summer.

Tom hadn’t been in L.A. for the holidays, so Ethan and I hung out most of the time. He had been so thoughtful and kind when Ilost my golden retriever, Skylar, and on my 18th birthday, he had been there to celebrate with me too. Our time together made me hope there were more.

Especially when I recall the way he looked at me back then… I thought Ethan liked me, too.

Turns out he had some other woman in his life, and he brought her to dinner that night. Tom didn’t know about her either, so he didn’t mention it to me.

Turns my gaze drift over his full figure and take in the stunning looks of America’s number one playboy. His suit radiates sophistication and style. The delicate, shiny black wool sits stylishly on his frame and accentuates his lean build.

Even during his five years abroad, he frequently made it into the American gossip columns during his visits to the country for business. He probably visited L.A. a couple of times in those five years to visit his grandfather, but we never met up because I stopped communicating with him after that night.

One look at him, and I immediately notice what has changed. He is clean-shaven, and his jet-black hair falls down to his ears in wavy curtains. My heart thumps fast in my chest, and I swallow hard.

Why do I feel dizzy?

I put Ethan behind me already, and if he’s here for business now, then I need to get my head in the game.

“You’re going to merge with my company?” I ask, ignoring the light quiver in my voice before arching my brow. “Why?”

He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, and his eyes gleam with a twinkle that hints at his usual playfulness.

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