Page 33 of The Bad Boy's Fake Wife

I nod. “It does.”

Once again the conversation dries up, and all I can think of is the position we woke up in. Is it so terrible that I wish that were real? And that this awkwardness could transform into something else, something seamless and better?

“When is the flight back?” Emma asks.

I glance down at the watch on my wrist. “It should be in half an hour. A driver will pick us up and take us to the airport, where our private jet will be waiting.”

“Our?” Emma asks in surprise.

I nod. “You’re my wife now, so it’s yours as much as it’s mine. You can take it anywhere you want.”

Her eyes grow wide and I frown. “Is something wrong?”

Emma shakes her head. “No, I just didn’t know this so-called marriage came with all the perks of a real one.”

Her words sting more than they should. I swallow the lump in my throat, forcing a smile even as something inside me tightens.

It feels like every time the wordsfake,so-called, orpretendare mentioned, a dull ache settles in my chest.

I offer a lopsided smile. “Of course it does. You’ll have access to my black card for whatever you need. Just don’t go buying an entire hotel or something.”

“Okay,” Emma says. “Duly noted.”

“It’s decided then.” I smile. My phone rings and it’s the driver, who’s waiting for us in the hotel lobby. Emma and I wave goodbye to Andy and leave after they exchange numbers. It would be such a funny story to tell our kids how their mother made friends with a hotel receptionist she once argued with over an extra room she wanted just to avoid me. A smile forms at the thought, but it instantly drops when I remember the truth.

There won’t be any children of ours to listen to stories about our past. I need to stop thinking like that. It’ll only hurt me more in the end.

Emma gives me an odd look, her brows knitting together as if she wants to say something. But she stays quiet, and I’m too exhausted to offer even a weak smile. This arrangement is draining me. It feels like torture to be so close to her and yet not have her completely. The problem is…I had no idea I wanted her until now. I never thought of her this way before this moment.

The entire trip back to our hometown is wrapped in silence. Emma types away on her laptop, occasionally pausing to chew on her lip. I grip the armrest, my fingers tapping restlessly, but I say nothing. Every now and then, I steal a glance at her, wondering if she’ll break the silence first—but she never does. Emma types away on her computer, probably still working on her draft. I wish I could casually ask to read a few sentences or something, but I don’t feel like using up the very little energy I have left on conversation.

I also need to think of my company and how to solve the endless problems it’s facing. My jaw tightens as I go over the numbers in my head—nothing is adding up. Every time I think I’ve found the missing piece, another issue surfaces, like a game I can’t win. I try to think like my grandfather when he was the CEO. How would he fix this? He never did anything alone. He always had at least one or two people to ask for advice in any given situation.

“Reed.”

Reed is more than just my colleague—he’s my best friend, my confidant. He’s been by my side since the start, through every success and every crisis. If anyone can help me figure out what’s going on, it’s him. The financial reports haven’t been adding up, contracts have gone missing, and key deals have fallen through at the last minute. It’s too many coincidences at once. He’ll tell me if what I think is true: that someone is trying to sabotage the company.

“Huh?” Emma looks up from her screen. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” I mumble. I hadn’t realized that I said her brother’s name out loud.

Emma says nothing else as she returns to her work, allowing me to think of my own job. Except I don’t think of that—I think of her, and her sweet lips, and how soft her skin was when I woke up pressed against her.

I try to blink away those thoughts, but it doesn’t help. Whether I like it or not, Emma has imprinted herself in my mind, and she’s never leaving.

Loving Emma was never part of the plan. I tell myself it’s just the situation, just the time we’ve spent together—but deep down, I know better. Maybe it’s too late to stop now.

Chapter 15

Emma

Thewarmthofhisskin seeps into me, his legs tangled with mine, his strong arms wrapped securely around my ribs. His steady breathing tickles my neck, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the comfort of it.

That’s all I can think of during the ten-hour flight back home. The low hum of the engines and the occasional murmur of flight attendants drift around me, but my mind is stuck on the warmth of his skin and the way our bodies fit together so naturally. When I woke up in the hotel and realized we were basically a human sandwich, I enjoyed it so much that I stayed like that for a while and only began moving when he stirred.

“Earth to Emma!” Mia snaps at me, a look of annoyance on her face. “What has gotten into you? I asked you for details of your honeymoon, and you completely spaced out!”

She’s sprawled on my new bed. Jonathan insisted I move in with him, and he gave me one of his spare rooms. And although I only moved one house over from my old one, it still feels weird.

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