Boss Man Bridegroom by Quinn Meghan

Author:Quinn, Meghan [Quinn, Meghan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-23T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

RATH

“What the fuck was that?” Roark asks as I take a seat at my desk, pushing my smoothie to the side, because even though I enjoy Charlee’s smoothies, I really need a pastry at this moment.

What the fuck was that is a very good question, because honestly? I don’t know.

Marry me?

Where the fuck did that come from?

Actually, I know where it came from and I’m too embarrassed to even admit it. Charlee is to blame. This is all Charlee’s fault. Not because of the way she looked absolutely stunning this morning despite a fraction of red to her eyes from crying, or how for some reason, seeing her upset does something weird to me. I just dropped every rule I’ve ever made for myself and allowed myself to do and say stupid things.

This has nothing to do with seeing Charlee this morning and wanting to take her into my arms and make everything better. No, this is all a product of that stupid, godforsaken romance novel I was reading last night and early this morning on my drive to the office.

Marriage of convenience. It was on replay over and over in my head and by the time I got to my office, it simply popped out of my mouth. And of course, when she asked who she should marry, I immediately became jealous with anger and couldn’t tolerate Charlee marrying anyone but me. Overbearing I know, but it’s how I felt. Since I apparently have no filter, I asked her to marry me. Well, I guess she asked me and I said yes, but I suggested it. I’ve blacked out at this point. Something happened and now we’re engaged . . . because of a romance novel.

And for the record, nowhere in that book does the heroine call the hero a bridegroom. I make a mental note to look that up later.

And maybe, yeah, the way I’ve started to feel about Charlee might have had a hand in pushing me to tell her to marry me. The need to touch her, hold her, take her hand in mine, kiss her. The urge became too overwhelming and I snapped like a goddamn flimsy twig. The idea, ridiculous at that, became so real, so vivid in my head in the matter of seconds that NOT marrying Charlee wasn’t an option. And let’s not even start thinking about how soft her skin was beneath my fingertips. How I wanted to taste her lips and not just her cheek . . .

“Are you going to answer me?” Roark asks, looking far too amused.

“Where did what come from?” I try to be casual. “You called it. I was totally boning my assistant.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second. I might have joked about it, but I know you.” He studies me. “Did you patch things up with Bram?”

“Yes,” I say, turning on my computer and opening my emails. “He came over, we talked it out, everything is fine.”

“So ‘marrying’ Charlee,” he says, using

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