Page 31 of Hopeless

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His throat works. “Same for you.”

I slide my hand across the table, and he envelops it in his large palm.

We shake. We exchange numbers.

And just like that …

I’m engaged.

8

Beau

Beau:Should we make our debut tonight?

Bailey:While I’m at work?

Beau:Yeah. I haven’t seen you in a few days. We still on? Don’t you need to start applying for jobs? The bar would be a simple place to start. Then we can do dinner at the ranch one night.

Bailey:Yeah.

Beau:So, tonight?

Bailey:Sure. Yeah. That’s fine.

Beau:Don’t be nervous. Gary won’t even know what’s going on. Just get my tea ready, babe.

Bailey:Can we not do the babe thing?

Beau:Why not?

Bailey:It’s just so unoriginal.

Beau:So, not only do I have to be your fake fiancé, but I also have to come up with an original nickname?

Bailey:Correct. It’s a new requirement for our deal.

Beau:You drive a hard bargain, Jansen. How many carats on the diamond, fancy-pants?

Bailey:Lol. Four? Five? So big I can barely lift my hand.

Beau:Wow. My girl is high-maintenance. Got it. See you tonight, snookums.

Bailey:Yeah, no. That’s not it either.

Bailey has her back to the bar, typing something on the touchscreen computer. Which is why she doesn’t notice me sliding onto my regular stool. The one at the end of the bar that puts my back to the wall and gives me a view of the room—and the door.

A way out.

“How goes it, Sweet Cheeks?” Might as well rip the Band-Aid right off.

She freezes in place and Gary’s head whips my way.

“The fuck did you just say to her?” Gary’s jaw is practically on the floor.

I grin. Yep. This already feels good. I can do this. A show. A mission.

“We’re trying out new nicknames.”

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