Faking Amends (BadLuckBrides series #2)

15

Ivan

"So, how're things going with the, uh...girlfriend? Is that what you call her?" Carly asks boldly.

"Fiancée." I shrug a shoulder, going to take a sip from my mug while reading over documents.

It's been easier to say it as of late. Ever since we kissed like two horny teenagers who'd never been touched before, I almost can't see her as anything else.

Things were different with her. Maybe it had to do with the place I'm at in life, but the thought of being in a relationship isn't as dreadful as it once was.

That probably had more to do with the way Nicole left me, but Cassie is something different. She's special.

"So, explain this to me again? You picked this girl up at a coffee shop or someth—"

"Panera Bread," I mutter, still reading.

"Panera Bread, and asked her to marry you? Did you get down on a knee and propose right there or..."

I look up at her under heavy brows before setting the hot mug down on the desk.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say she were jealous. The thought almost makes me want to laugh, but I won't give her that.

It would probably piss her off if nothing else, and we've got more important things to tackle right now than her out of place jealousy.

"Carly," I warn.

She hops her ass up on my desk, twisting so that her crossed legs dangle beside my knee, looking down at me. "Does this mean you're in a relationship or is it...complicated?"

Very complicated.

That kiss changed things. In one instant, she went from employee to...lover? Girlfriend?—I don't know. But she isn't just Cassie anymore. She's something I'm not sure I even really have and something I also can't afford to lose.

Carly's fingers crawl along my shoulder, across my collar and play with my tie. Her legs uncross and I get a peek at the black panties she's wearing underneath that skirt.

She's fucking testing me?

"Carly..." I say, my voice taut.

I clear my throat, standing from my seat and walk toward the window. I need a damn break—and a drink. When did things get so convoluted?

"I mean, I think that's something you should think about, considering all the things we do."

"We fuck. That's it. Don't make it sound like we do anything more than that."

"Yeah, well I'm sure it's a lot more than you do with her, isn't it?"

Fishing for information?

Come on, Carly. You've gotta be smoother than that with me.

"I mean, how come you didn't ask me to be your fake wife? I would've done it gladly."

I scoff lightly, resting my arm on the white wall and looking down at the traffic jam packed way below us. I know she would have, but I also know things would have been loads more complicated than they'll ever be with a random stranger.

"You don't mix business with pleasure, Carly."

"And what do you call what you're doing? With both of us. I'm sure you're dipping your fingers in both honey pots."

I narrow my eyes at her disgustingly graphic metaphor, feeling the warmth of the sun shining on my skin through the glass window.

"I'm not. Cassie and I, we kissed once. That's about it."