Page 24 of The Bad Boy's Fake Wife

She flushes, looking away. “Oh.”

We sit in silence for a while before we finally decide to go into the water.

I walk in first, my toes touching the water before hers do. “Careful now, the water is a bit cold.”

Emma laughs again, a sound I’m beginning to enjoy very much.

“I can handle a bit of cold,” Emma says as she walks into the water. Her walk is a little wobbly, so I stretch out a hand to help support her. She holds my hand, causing warmth to wash over me.

I bite down a shiver, and even after Emma takes her hand away from mine, I can still feel the lingering warmth.

“The view is breathtaking, isn’t it?”

A man whistles from behind us, and Emma stiffens. I turn around to find a fairly handsome man gawking at her without even a hint of shyness or shame.

As the man’s gaze lingers on Emma, she shifts uncomfortably, her arms tightening around her torso. I notice her stiff posture, the way her fingers subtly try to cover more of her body, and something inside of me ignites. I swallow hard, my jaw clenching as I debate whether to confront the man or let it slide. But when the stranger smirks, his gaze raking over Emma unabashedly, anger surges past my restraint.

The tension thickens as the man takes a slow step closer. “You don’t belong here, do you?” he muses, his voice dripping with something smug and self-assured. His eyes don’t leave Emma, and my stomach twists.

Emma clears her throat, forcing a polite but firm smile. “We’re just enjoying the beach.”

The man chuckles, the sound grating. “I can see that,” he says, his gaze lingering on her too long.

I step between them. “You should leave. You’re making my wife uncomfortable.”

The man scoffs, his grin widening. “It’s a free world,” he drawls. “Besides, if she didn’t want attention, maybe she should cover up a bit more.”

Emma inhales sharply and takes a half-step back. My vision tunnels, heat surging through my veins like a fire I can’t contain.

“What did you just say?” My voice is low, taut with warning.

The man tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Relax, man. Just appreciating the view.”

I should walk away. I should de-escalate. But then the man smirks again, throwing out a crude remark that makes Emma’s face flush with discomfort.

That’s it.

My pulse pounds, drowning out everything else—the sound of the waves, the distant chatter of beachgoers—until all that remains is the sharp, insistent need to make this man regret his words. I know I should walk away, that a fight won’t solve anything, but when the man smirks again, another crude remark slipping past his lips, something in me snaps. Before I can think, before I can stop myself, I surge forward, my knuckles colliding with the man’s jaw. The impact sends him stumbling back into the sand with a grunt. A stunned silence falls over the beach for a moment before the man lets out a strangled curse and rubs his jaw.

“Stay away from her,” I warn, my voice sharp as steel.

My knuckles throb with sharp pain, the sting radiating up my arm, but I barely register it over the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart pounds so loudly in my ears that I almost miss Emma’s sharp gasp.

I clench my jaw, breathing hard as the heat of my anger refuses to fade. The man’s words echo in my head, fueling the tension that still lingers in my muscles. Only when Emma’s hand brushes against my forearm do I finally exhale, my breath shaky as the weight of what I did settles over me.

Emma stares at me, wide-eyed, her lips parted slightly. The man glares at us, but recognizing the warning in my stance, mutters something under his breath and stalks away.

I roll my shoulders to work out the tension before turning back to Emma. “Are you okay?”

She nods slowly, then, surprising me, lets out a small laugh. “Did you just punch someone for me?”

I rub my knuckles, smirking. “I guess I did.”

Emma shifts her weight and glances at me with something between surprise and amusement. A flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe curiosity—crosses her face before she exhales, a small smile forming at the corners of her lips. Her fingers toy with the edge of her bikini before she exhales, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Emma shakes her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

I shrug. “Turns out I don’t like when people make my wife uncomfortable.”

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