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I hold up my hand, ring flashing, and smile.
He tries to ignore me, turning to the window.
“Come on, bossman. We’re stuck together for the next three months. Just let me lend an ear.”
He’s dead silent.
I peel away from him with a sigh. “Look, I won’t force it, but haven’t you ever heard repressing is bad for your health?”
His eyes snap back to mine and his gaze drops from my eyes to my lips.
“This isn’t your battle, Paige. You don’t want to get mixed up with this. He’s hurt enough people. I don’t want that sicko anywhere near you.”
Sicko?
Are we still talking about the box?
“Who?” I mouth, the word barely audible.
“My father.” His eyes are ice balls stuck to my lips.
I shake my head. “What does your dad have to do with—”
“Stay out of it,” he snaps. “All these questions tell me you didn’t do your homework when you had a chance. If you’d gone hunting, you’d know about the skeletons in the family closet.”
Ouch.
His harsh tone hurts, but he’s right.
Between diving into this fake engagement insanity, I got distracted. I didn’t have time to do a thorough search over the touchy stuff he warned me about...or any search at all.
I cross my arms and turn away from him.
He could shame a storybook Prince with his looks, but his attitude is straight Vlad the Impaler.
“Whatever. Silly me. It’s not like we’re in this together or anything,” I say with a huff.
In one swift movement, he leans over and cups my face with his thick hand, turning my head so there’s nowhere to go but deep into those teal-blue eyes.
All the air whooshes out of my lungs.
“Don’t feel scolded. My father’s a horrible man. I promise you want nothing to do with him. I’m protecting you, woman.”
God. He’s so close to me his minty man scent invades my senses. If I lean forward the tiniest bit, our mouths will meet.
Do I want that? Again?
Last time, it was divine, but then he forgot it happened.
I suck in a breath and jerk away, knocking the box onto the floor, and slide closer to the door before exhaling.
“What does your dad have to do with this box, Ward?” I can’t help probing because this makes no sense. “Is the stuff inside his?”
“Yes. No one else would have it. I told you, it’s my problem. Got it?”
“Would Beatrice really be upset if anyone saw it?” I ask, barely a whisper.
His face hardens into granite. “Why do people always assume I’m overreacting?”
“Umm—I don’t know. But you reacted like you sat on a porcupine. Would they?”
“No question. And in case you forgot, Grandma can’t be stressed out—especially not by this crap.” His chest heaves with a monster sigh. “Nick doesn’t let anything get under his skin. He’s always in the clouds, above it all.”
“You’re sure it’s from your father? Maybe it got mixed up in a box for Goodwill or someone stole it?” I try, knowing it’s absurd, but might make him feel better.
“Bullshit. Dad doesn’t donate anything unless there’s money involved, and who steals a model boat? Don’t be ridiculous.”
My face sinks.
“Maybe I wouldn’t be, if we didn’t have to dance around—”
“Paige. Just drop it.”
“Consider it dropped, Wardhole,” I say, twisting to the window.
A few beats later, he says, “Are you pissed?”
Duh.
“Why would I be angry? I’m just stuck with a seething man who can’t tell me what his problem is, because even though I’m trustworthy enough to stay in his guest room and wear an expensive fake ring, I’m not trustworthy enough to know his problems.” I shake my head and hit the button on the door to lower the screen separating Reese. “Hey, Reese. Drop me at Sweeter Grind, please?”
“Paige,” Ward growls, his voice scraping.
“You knew I was meeting Brina today.” I shrug, not daring to meet his eyes. “I would’ve canceled for an emergency, but you don’t need my help. Remember?”
“How long will you be gone?” he demands.
“If I’m lucky, long enough to meet a hot barista and jet off to Hawaii.”
Reese snickers awkwardly in the front seat. “Trouble in paradise?”
“What paradise?” I scoff.
I know, I’m terrible, but having two commas in my compensation doesn’t give this man the right to stomp all over me.
“Stay out of it,” Ward growls at Reese, punching the button to raise the window.
“Hey, don’t talk to her like that. It’s bad enough when you talk to me like that, and we’re engaged,” I say.
He raises the screen and side-eyes me.
“We’re supposed to be in love.”
“And you’re supposed to act like you love me, Captain Grump.”
Our eyes lock. There’s static in the air. The challenge, the heat, the tension makes me petrified.
“If you don’t knock it off, people will realize that we’re—”
“What?” I roll my eyes. “That all normal couples fight? It’d be creepy if they didn’t. As much as I’d love to have a shred of respect, maybe it’s good this is happening. Butting heads always comes naturally enough for us, right? No need to fake it.” The car stops, and I glance out the window.
