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Now they found themselves in an even more dangerous situation. Whatever her thing was with her cousin, they were going to do what she wanted.
But didn’t she realize her cousin had absolutely nothing on her? Lacey started a company from scratch because she was innovative and wanted to help other less fortunate people.
She grew that company into a reckonable force all from her bedroom in her apartment in the city. She was saving hundreds of lives daily with her business model, and fuck that had impressed them. They still had every item from every village in her program in their house, from baskets to throws to tiny cups and saucers and clay pots.
Of course, for them, she charged them a special price. Five times what her website had the price listed because they deserved to pay more since it was for a noble cause. They would buy her stuff for the rest of their lives at whatever price she set for them, whether they had use for crocheted potted plant holders or brightly embroidered skirts and shawls.
The girl was so unassumingly fucking incredible, yet she was attempting to justify herself to her cousin. She had no damn clue. And they were going to give her what she wanted for the stupidest reason ever. But it seemed mighty important to her, and fuck, if working themselves to the bone every day only to come home and drink themselves into a coma just so they could keep their cocks as far away from her as possible was what they had to do, they would do it.
…Five days where she pretended to be their wife and looked like that, smiled like that, and smelled like that.
And thereafter, she wanted them to write her a glowing five-star review—a fucking review—so she could stick it to her cousin.
The fuck.
The next five days were going to be the worst, longest five fucking days they’d ever experienced.
Chapter Eight
Day one of being a wife to three cocky cowboys who thankfully caved and allowed her her little experiment, also known as a middle finger salute to Jenna, was well underway.
Donned in a T-shirt and a pair of track bottoms, in which she drowned, forcing her to roll up the bottom of the gray sweatpants and use her hair pins to secure the band at her waist, she was able to clean out their kitchen.
She washed what felt like a mountain of dishes but was really only a day’s worth, mourned the loss of her nails, cleared out the pantry of expired stuff, made them sandwiches and pudding from a box for lunch, and then soaked their flasks in hot soapy water.
Okay, granted, she wouldn’t have known where to begin, but she’d had the good foresight to tuck her phone into her bra during her wet breaking and entering into the ranch, and she used her phone to search how to be a cowboy’s wife, which led her to a site called Pioneer, and she followed Margerette’s daily task list to a clean farmhouse and a happy husband. In her case, husband times three. Pretend husband times three.
She wassogoing to crush this.
The cowboys stayed out of her way the rest of the day. She could hear them in their study discussing ranch business and brushed aside what the sound of their low voices did to her. Just like she brushed aside how wet she had been when they spanked her. She would also have to shrug off the fact that she had left a bright wet spot on the sweatpants she wore because she wasn’t wearing any panties since they were currently being washed in their washing machine.
She was sure if she searched online, she’d find a reasonable explanation about why she had gotten wet. It was most certainly 100% not because of them. That would be atrocious.
Firstly, they weren’t her type. Too bossy. And secondly, she had known them her whole life; she’d be a complete nutjob to start lusting after them.
Yeah, no, it was not because she found them hot or dirty in a sexy way. No way. She hoped they didn’t think she was suddenly all weak, flushed, and bothered for them. Gosh no. She’d have to explain herself as soon as she could before they thought otherwise, which would be the epitome of awkwardness for her.
She got her chance after carrying them a tray of coffee since they were hard-working ranchmen and deserved to be taken care of, as per Margarette’s article on100 ways to a happy household.
She seemed to have startled them with her presence, but of course, she knocked first.
She set the tray down, offered them warm, nurturing smiles on cue, and made her escape. But just before she slipped out back through the door, she turned around and faced the three giant cowboys, who had been sipping whiskey, looking over maps, and discussing business, and she couldn’t decide if the scene before her was ruggedly sexy… or just not so.
“Oh, just to be clear, I wasn’t... umm... what appeared to be aroused before. In other words, I was not wet for any of you. None of you made me wet. Okay?”
“Who were you wet for then?” Tyler asked, straightening to his full insane height, hands dipped into his low-hanging jeans, the panoramic view of his brick-like abs blinding her.
“William Bloom,” she said without missing a beat.
“Who the fuck is William Bloom?” Case growled at her.
“He’s the new lawyer I hired to help me take care of some business issues, not that it’s any of your business. I plan to ask him out on a date once this is over,” she added, then wondered why she went for the overkill.
She wasn’t completely sure since they had growled their words out at a frequency so low, she could barely hear them, but if she had to hazard a guess, she thought what they each said implied the fuck she would, which made zero sense, so she decided she had misheard them entirely.
The rest of her day passed uneventfully. She picked a room out for herself since this was only pretend and she didn’t need to share a bedroom with them, thankfully. And then slept through the night and most of the morning.
She woke up to find her bags had been brought into the room, and from the window in the bedroom, she saw her car had been brought back too, not only that but it had also been hosed down from all the evidence that she had driven it up a mountain road in the rain.
