Fake It For Real: A Faux Love Novel by Weston Parker

Author:Weston Parker [Parker, Weston]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BrixBaxter Publishing
Published: 2022-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

21

KRISTEN

“No,” I murmured.

“What?”

“I don’t want to go back to the estate. The last thing I want to deal with is more questions from your grandmother. Just drop me off and I’ll go to a park.”

“Because that worked so well the first time.” He scoffed.

“I’ll buy a hat,” I shot back. “I don’t want to go back to the house. Please. I’m just not up for that.”

“Because she wants you to sell your business,” he said with a sigh. He backed off his speed and turned the car around. “You do realize none of it matters because we aren’t actually engaged?”

“Not the point,” I said. “I don’t want to argue with her. If I’m supposed to be here another week, I’d rather it not be uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“What am I supposed to say?” I asked him. “This is your show. I’m your paid employee. Should I just go along with it? Would that make this easier? Is that what you would expect from me if we were actually going to be married?”

“No,” he answered quickly. “I would never expect you or any woman to sign over anything to me.”

“Good, because that’s just plain rude,” I said with my arms folded across my chest.

It was weird to be arguing a few minutes after we’d been groping each other. I leaned back in the seat and replayed the last five minutes. I had been so turned on, I nearly fucked him in the car in the middle of the day. In a park!

He was dangerous. Being around him was like sucking on an aphrodisiac. He kept me in a heightened state of arousal. Even now I was thinking about him and his body. I was thinking about being on top of him and feeling him inside me.

The memories I had of him were fuzzy. Good but fuzzy. I couldn’t know what was real and what was my imagination.

“You’re upset,” he said. His own anger seemed to have dissipated. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I sighed.

“What do you normally do when you’re stressed?” he asked.

“Work.” I laughed. “Not like work work, but just kind of daydream and sketch. I’ll sit around and imagine a house and design it. I have a computer program I use sometimes. Nothing serious, just kind of freethinking.”

“I need to get back to the hotel. Do you want to come with me?”

“Is it your hotel?” I asked.

“Yes and no.”

“That clears it up.” I laughed.

“It’s in my portfolio, but it was a project I was working on with the local branch of Kappas. My grandfather wanted me to take the hotel and flip it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get over here before he died. Now, I’m stuck with a structure that needs some serious work. I considered just selling it as-is, but I don’t want to let my grandfather down.”

“That’s sweet you’re honoring his legacy.”

“You can exercise your creative juices,” he said. “Lord knows the place needs some help. The team that has been put in charge of the renovations is floundering.

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