Page 16 of Igniting Sparks
“I’ll try.” At her scowl, I drape an arm around her shoulder, giving her a one-armed squeeze. “Piece of cake, sweets. Just let me know when and where.”
“You’re the best. Do you think we should figure out our backstory?”
“Our what?”
“How we met, fell in love, that sort of thing?”
Ah, the details. I glance at my clock, noting the time. “As much as I’d love to hash out the intricacies of our fake relationship, I have a client. How about this? You come up with the story and I’ll go along with it, okay?”
“Can I make you over the moon crazy about me?”
“Obviously.” Truth is, it’s not far off.
If only she were a few years older and ready to settle down, this wouldn’t feel like a ruse, but maybe a dress rehearsal for something bigger.
Something painfully and beautifully real.
But she’s not, and this is nothing more than a contrived situation to finagle a dance studio from her aunt’s clutches and into Mina’s rightful possession.
Mina reaches out and grasps my hands, inching closer until her face is a hair’s breadth from mine. “I promise you won’t regret it, and I’ll make it up to you. Just let me know how.”
I bite my tongue and shift my weight, fully aware that other body parts are waking up with Mina’s breathy statement.
Do not go there, Braden. Keep it PG. Hell, keep it G rated.
“No worries. I’m happy to help.” Grabbing my phone, I open the contacts section. “I need your number, though. It would seem mighty strange for me to not know my fiancée’s number.”
Mina giggles as we exchange digits.
“There.” I show her the phone, with her nickname as Wifey. “Now it’s official.”
She rolls her eyes. “I was expecting the Old Ball and Chain.”
“Not until our first-year anniversary. Gotta have the honeymoon period.”
“Need to have a honeymoon first.”
Fuck, there goes my dick again, waking up and taking notice when he should be sleeping.
I need to go… before I offer Mina a repeat performance with no familial interruptions.
“Anything else before I go?” I motion to the door, equally desperate to leave as I am to stay by her side.
“One thing. If you happen to hear of anyone needing a roommate, will you let me know? Mom has an offer on the house.”
“So, you’re homeless, too?”
“Soon. I suppose I could stay in the shed like the resident bog witch.”
Here’s what Ishoulddo—tell her I’ll keep an ear out for anyone looking for a roommate and ease out of the office.
Definitely don’t offer the spare bedroom in my house.
That would be a dangerous, albeit delicious, idea. Terrible, very bad idea.
Guess which one I choose?
Shrugging, I tug a hand through my hair. “What the hell. We’re getting married. You might as well live with me.”
