Page 10 of Fake Wife
As soon as I saw the crap piled into the back of Teagan’s well-used Prius and she said,“What can I say? It’s been a long day,”my brain made a decision before my common sense could kick in.
She’s not only stunning…she’s normal.
She’ll also look good on my arm.
She’ll look even better wearing my wedding ring.
That is, if I can get her to say yes, but if her day is as bad as I’m imagining it’s been, I’m betting on the house that she doesn’t have very many options in front of her at the moment.
I hold open the door to Le Chat Noir for her, guiding her inside with my hand at her lower back, and still grinning at her horrified expression when I asked her what she thought about cats. No, we’re not eating them. The very fact she thought that tells me she’s unlike any woman I’ve met before.
Teagan is tall; taller than most women I’ve been with. She’s wearing flats and the top of her head brushes at the height of my shoulder. Perfect, really. At six-foot-three, I’m a tall guy. When she’s wearing heels and a formal gown, I won’t have to bend to kiss her.
I kick that thought out of my head. Yeah, her body is slamming hot, with full perky breasts and long legs, but that’s not what this possible marriage is about.
It’s a business decision, period. I will not think with my dick, but with my brain.
“Deux, s’il vousplaît,”I say to the host, dressed in a full tuxedo, as we enter.
“Certainement, monsieur,”he replies.“Suis-moi.”
We follow as he requests and I guide Teagan in front of me, keeping my hand on her back, just high enough to be appropriate. Neither of us are dressed for the formal restaurant, but since it’s well past the lunch hour, nearing three o’clock, it’s almost empty. Besides, I come here often, and most of the servers know who I am. Or according to Teagan, every female under sixty knows who I am.
I grin again, unable to stop it. Typically, constantly being recognized isn’t always a bonus, but in this case, I think it’s going to work in my favor. At least I don’t have to convince her that I’m not some perverted stranger trying to get her to move into my home and marry me.
Plus, the way she said it, her eyes widening in fascination and then a blush hitting her cheeks, was adorable. Which isn’t exactly a word I use to describe women very often, but in this case, it suits her.
Who would have thought that when a car rear-ended me, I’d be trying not to laugh at the person who caused the accident?
I wave off the host as he reaches for Teagan’s chair. After helping her get seated, I take my own on the other side of the table. It’s meant for four, and with efficient movements, he clears the additional china place settings and returns with two waters. The entire process takes moments, and the whole time, Teagan is looking around the small restaurant with awe.
“Have you ever been here before?” I ask.
She shakes her head and laughs lightly. It’s the sound of pretty little bells ringing, and I lean in closer to hear her quiet voice some more. “Um. No. It’s a bit outside my price range, plus I’m not exactly sure why I’m here now.”
I slide a menu in front of her. “I know it’s late, but have you had lunch? Order something and then we’ll talk. I have a problem I think you might be able to help me with.”
Her eyes pop. “I can help you? That’s strange, considering I’m the one who ran into your car.”
I wave her off. The amount of work it’s going to take to fix my car isn’t a big deal. Plus, when I’m at Eleanor’s I drive an old Ford Bronco around anyway. “Don’t worry about that. Have you eaten?”
She glances down at the menu, light brown brows furrowing, and looks back at me. “I can’t read anything on here, and I’m not sure I’m comfortable staying, to be honest. This whole conversation is making me uncomfortable.”
It’s not about to get any more comfortable, either, but her honesty and bluntness not only surprises me, it pleases me.
Yeah, she’s definitely one of the normal women I’ve decided I need to find. Most women would want to impress me with their knowledge of a different language, or fake it if they don’t know it.
Using all my Lane charm, I lean forward and smile, dropping my voice that’s been well known across the city to make panties drop. “Relax. This will be painless, I promise.”
She reaches for her water and takes a large swallow. “Not really helping.”
We’re interrupted by the waiter, and instead of asking what she’d like or explaining the menu, I place an order for chocolate crepes for her along with two glasses of Château Margaux Bordeaux. Perhaps the alcohol will help her stick around long enough to hear me out.
Once the waiter leaves, I take a sip of my own water and rest my forearms on the table. Before I can get into why I have her here, I need to know a few things. “I realize this might sound rude, but how old are you, Teagan? And are you single?”
She tilts her head, doubtfulness creeping into her eyes. “Twenty-seven. And I’m certain the other isn’t any of your business.”
Young, but not too young. There’s a five-year age gap, but she seems rather intelligent, put together if I ignore the tear tracks dried on her cheeks. She at least didn’t completely fall apart and wasn’t a raging bitch when she rammed into me.
