5

“Yes or no?” Leon asks, pegging me with his crazy gorgeous eyes. “Do you want the promotion or not?”

This man would suck as a husband. He’d be bossy as all hell. So why are my panties still doing that bullshit thing where they’re hot and freaking soaked all at the same time?

Quite suddenly and irrationally, I feel a stubborn determination coming on, a way to get out from under the pit of shit I’ve been drowning in and save my family too. I shouldn’t do this. This is ultra-mega stupid times a thousand, but frick, if I don’t do it, what then? I’m out on my butt without a job? I’d always know that I passed up the opportunity to really help my parents and sister out? To get out from under all my student debt?

Having him as a husband wouldn’t suck that much. It might not suck at all. Being bossy isn’t a bad thing when you’re fine as the devil on a dark night.

What the hell? Are you listening to yourself? That is your va-jay-jay talking,the rational side of me scolds.

No, I’m your va-jay-jay, and I say freaking go for it.

Fake. It wouldn’t be real. Get a freaking grip. Just because you’ve been crushing on him for the last six months doesn’t mean a fake marriage is a good thing. It’s a bad thing. It would only be more torture. Just because you’re kind of being all pathetic and also kind of falling for Lord Poo doesn’t mean you should marry him.

“Alright, I agree, but I have one stipulation.”What are you doing? Stop self-destructing.“We can’t just get fake married over the weekend and then act as if nothing happened. If we really loved each other, no one would buy that. You’d want to spoil me, and you’d find a way for us to be together.”This is way too far.“You’d pretend you were going away on a business trip, and since you wouldn’t need me, you would give me a week of holidays. My holidays were denied for the past year because I was a new hire, and I hadn’t been to my family cabin in ages, so we would actually go there. Together. To get away. Have a week’s honeymoon. It would look good. Legit.”

It’s August. If I want to go to my family cabin, which I haven’t even seen for a year because I’ve been so busy here, my chances are fading out fast. I missed it all last summer. A week there would be like heaven.Oh, and my super sexy bosshole, who I’ve been secretly crushing on for half the time I’ve worked here, would also be coming along. The devil bosshole who makes my panties steam. That’s my real bonus.

You. Are. Fucking. Crazy.I steadfastly ignore the voice in my head.

“Those are my terms. A week at the cabin to make things look legit.”A week where I could hopefully soften and wear you down because I really am crazy and pathetic, I have a savior complex a mile long, and I think that outside of work, you’re actually a really great person. I also want to know if you’re actually in pain and what I can do to make it go away because I care way more than I should.

“If you want a week off, you can have the time. I’ll make it happen.”

“No. There’s no way you’d just let me go off on my own right after we got married. No one would believe that. Summer’s almost over, so I can’t put it off. Any later and the lake will be freezing, and I won’t be able to go swimming and enjoy the beach like I want to. A week won’t kill you.”

But it might kill me. It might kill me to be so close to my super sexy, sinfully handsome, crazily aloof boss and be legally married to him and not be able to do anything about it.Yeah, this is totally #theworld’sworstplanever.

“Absolutely not.”

I stand up so fast that even I’m shocked. I don’t know where my sudden blasé attitude is coming from or the shrug of my shoulders that says I don’t really give a crap. “Well, I guess you’re screwed then.”

“If I’m screwed, then so is this whole place.”

“That’s not true. You’ll be able to rule your kingdom from anywhere with an internet connection. Ireland, or wherever it is.”

Leon is up and out of his chair, breathing like he just completed a triathlon with some extra intense running and swimming and crap. He jerks open the top buttons of his shirt, revealing his scar, and his eyes are absolutely wild. My heart skitters in my chest.

“How do you know that I’m from Ireland?”

I can barely breathe past the clenching in my chest. My heart continues to kick at my ribs, and I can feel my face draining of color. “It’s just the way you talk sometimes. You have almost no accent, but it comes out here and there. Why? What’s wrong with Ireland?” It takes every ounce of my courage to stand my ground and pretend that I don’t notice his temper or how it’s weird as shit. “I’ve always wanted to go there. It’s a nice place. I’m not sure I’d take this over Ireland.”

Almost subconsciously, Leon raises his hands and rubs his temples. He’s doing it because there’s something wrong. I notice the beads of sweat on his hairline. A headache coming on?Holy cat bums, please don’t let it be something serious. Like, what if he’s actually sick or has a medical condition, and I’m triggering something right now by being a huge brat?

He walks away from me and paces around his desk. Then, he sits down in his chair. Hard.

“You’re going to give yourself a coronary,” I take a chance and say. “You need to relax.” I’m trying to soften things out by using humor, but apparently, it’s not funny. “Do you need something? Some ibuprofen or something?”

“No,” he snaps without looking at me. “No, I do not. What I need is for you to be at the courthouse on Saturday morning.”

“Uh, no. Not the courthouse. That’s too intimidating. Your house. We need a witness.”What you should really be saying is no, thank you, and I won’t be a part of fraudulent activity.“And you’re really going to enjoy the cabin. It’s great and really nice. Been in my family for ages. Sunday to Sunday, how fun! What a great honeymoon, peachy pie sweetheart. You’re so thoughtful.”

He points at the door with a low growl. “Get out.”

“Let me know what time our nuptials are taking place and if I need to bring anything other than myself, bunny boo, dumpling fiancé dear. I’m so looking forward to it.”

“Get. Out.”

“That’s the nicest proposal I’ve ever heard. Thank you for being so considerate and romantic,” I toss out dryly while scuttling for the door.