BAD BOY ROMANCE: FAKE FIANCEE ROMANCE: Breaking Bad (Jealous Friend Alpha Male Temporary Counterfeit Romance Secret Love Thriller) (My Fake Fiancé Obsession Romance Bad Boy Love Collection Romance)

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BAD BOY ROMANCE: FAKE FIANCEE ROMANCE: Breaking Bad (Jealous Friend Alpha Male Temporary Counterfeit Romance Secret Love Thriller) (My Fake Fiancé Obsession Romance Bad Boy Love Collection Romance) Page 7

by Dagny Rand


  “Just say what you’d want to happen, if it was completely up to you,” he said.

  “Wow, you seriously trust her,” a male voice called out, causing a round of soft laughter.

  “Yeah, actually I do,” Jack said, motioning for her to move closer to the microphone.

  “Okay… Like I said, this isn’t something that Jack and I have discussed, so please don’t take this as set in stone. But, were I to have my way, Jack would continue to do what he loves and play football. That means that little Jack and I travel to as many of his away games as we can, and that we’re at every home game, and that when he’s here, he is in Dad-mode unless he has something to do for the team. As excited as he is about being a father, I don’t think it’ll be hard to get him to be in Dad-mode,” she said with a smile, another laugh traveling through the crowd.

  “Miss Willow, can I just say, that was a wonderful answer. Thank you for putting every football fan’s fears to rest,” the reporter who’d asked the original question said. Willow smiled and nodded.

  “No problem at all,” she said before stepping back to allow Jack back to the podium.

  “Any other questions?” Jack asked. They’d been at it for about forty five minutes and he was starting to get tired of standing, honestly.

  “Are there any plans to get married?” someone called out. Jack and Willow exchanged a look.

  “That’s something else that we haven’t actually discussed. But, I would like for Willow to move to the house with me. I’ve got plenty of room for a little one, and she’s got months to plan a nursery and find a nanny to help her, if she chooses. As far as marriage,” Jack said, turning to face Willow as his sentence faded out. He wanted to ask her to be his wife, but he felt that this was something that didn’t belong to the media, not yet. His proposal was for her, not for the flashing lights and pushy microphones of the world.

  “As far as marriage, you all will find out when we are ready for you to know, and not a moment sooner,” Willow said, smiling up at Jack as if she’d read his mind.

  “Exactly,” he said.

  Chapter 8

  Willow became a celebrity over the first few months of her pregnancy. She was wanted for interviews, modeling opportunities and product pitches galore. Most of the product pitches, she turned down. She’d do the interviews and the modeling jobs without problems, especially since most of them were either with Jack or about Jack. She liked that she was pulling in more of her own money now, even though Jack told her that he wanted her to rest up through the pregnancy. She was independent, and making her own was important to her, even if a lot of the opportunities that presented themselves were because of who she was tied to.

  Willow got the marriage question a lot more than Jack did. Mainly from female reporters who thought that by palling around with her on national TV, she would simply slip up and spill the beans. Paula said that one of the many things that she liked about Willow was that she needed minimal coaching, not spreading her business was just in her nature. Meaning, she didn’t simply slip up and spill the beans and she never would.

  She had moved out of her place and moved in with Jack, and it had turned into an excellent decision for her. He gave her his credit card and told her to start looking for baby furniture, and that money was no object, but she still hadn’t had the heart to use the card yet. Jack would laugh and pull her close, telling her that was one of the many things that he loved about her, and assuring her that it was okay. In fact, earlier that morning had been the first time that she’d finally decided on something, and even then it was simply having someone come in and paint the room for her. She’d decided to wait until he got home from practice to make sure that the color was okay with him first. The fact that he’d then be there to see her use the card and verbally approve for the millionth time that it was okay was not lost on her.

  Jack had come home the other night with some elastic waistband jeans. She hadn’t said a word about the fact that her pants were beginning to get a bit uncomfortable, but he’d said that he’d noticed little things, like her fidgeting when she sat down and the waistband pressed against her stomach or the fact that she’d wear pajama pants more than anything else recently. It was the little things like that that made her smiled and love him even more.

  “Babe? Are you home?” Jack said, like he always did when he got in. It was like his version of ‘Honey, I’m home’.

  “Back here,” Willow yelled from the den, where she sat comparing various shades of yellow.

  “What in the world are you doing? It looks like a paint swatch monster threw up in here,” he said, laughing and hugging her gently from behind.

  “I want to get the baby’s room painted. I think once I pick a color, maybe it’ll be a bit easier for me to pick furniture,” she said.

  “It would also help if you’d stop thinking that you can’t use the card that I gave you for the sole purpose of you actually using it,” he said, a tease in his tone.

  “Shut up. Help me pick a shade,” she said. Jack leaned over her shoulder.

  “Yellow is good, since we’re being gender neutral,” he said absently. They’d decided not to find out the sex of the baby, so they were being careful about what they were buying. “I like the pale yellow better than the bold yellow. That one makes me think ‘girl’ a bit too much,” he said. Willow nodded and tossed aside the other swatches.

  “Agreed,” she said. Jack reached across the counter and handed her the phone.

  “Now stop being a wuss and call the painters. I know you’ve already picked one out,” he said with a smirk. Willow huffed an adorable sigh. So what he was right. She snatched the phone from him as he laughed softly and went into the kitchen while she called and scheduled.

  “They’re coming out tomorrow to do the estimate,” she said as Jack returned, beer in hand. He grinned and nodded.

  “Good. Now, I’ve got some good news,” he said. Willow turned to face him and smiled, giving her his full attention. God, he loved her so much.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “Coach and Paula pulled me into a meeting today at the end of practice. Apparently, the higher ups have re-evaluated me and decided that I am too valuable to the team to take a chance on my moving on to someone else in a few months when my contract comes up,” he said.

  “Ooo, this sounds promising,” Willow said. She knew that Jack really loved the city and the team, and didn’t want to leave. If this was what she thought it was, they were going to celebrate.

  “They’ve offered to extend my contract, and raised my salary as well,” he said. Willow leapt up off the stool, wrapping her arms around Jack’s neck.

  “That’s great news!” she said. Jack wrapped his arms around the woman and the baby that he loved and smiled.

  “I am so excited. You know that this is all because of you, right?” he said. Willow scoffed, looking up at him.

  “Liar, this is because you’re amazing,” she said. Jack shrugged.

  “I am pretty awesome, yeah. But it was you that made me want to be better, to stop being a prick and thinking that I’m the only person in this world that matters. You are the reason I get to stay in the city I love, with the team I love and the woman I love,” he said. Willow smiled, her face flushing.

  “If you say so, silly,” she said with a giggle.

  “So since I’ve got the contract extension, and a stunning woman who loves me with the most amazing kid on the planet on the way… We should get married,” Jack said. Just like that. It caught Willow completely off-guard, which was why he’d done it that way. He watched amused as her face froze in shock.

  “What?” she said finally.

  “Let’s get married,” he said, taking a step back and pulling the small ring box that he’d picked up on his way home from practice.

  He’d actually ordered the ring weeks ago, it was simply coincidence that it arrived at the jeweler on that day. He flipped the box open, and knelt down on one knee. Willow’s hands flew to her
face and she gasped at the sight of the ring, shaking her head.

  “Jack that ring is enormous,” she said. Jack spoke before she could finish what he knew was coming next.

  “It’s actually not the biggest one there, but I didn’t think you’d want anything that huge. This one is perfect for you. And yes, yes you can take it. Take it because I spent hours picking it out for you, and no it’s not too expensive. Stop arguing with me in your head, you aren’t going to win,” he said with a smile as tears began to run down Willow’s face.

  “Jerk,” she whispered, though her lips were smiling behind her hands.

  “This jerk loves you, Willow. I can’t see the rest of my life without you and the baby in it. Please, make me the happiest man alive, and become my wife,” he said. Willow sniffed, wiping at her eye roughly, and then smiled brightly and nodded.

  “Okay,” she said. Jack’s eyes widened and he smiled, leaping to his feet.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Yes!” she repeated. Jack picked her up and swung her around in his arms.

  “I love you, future Mrs. Carson,” he said. Willow kissed him.

  “I love you too, Mr. Carson. “

  *****

  THE END

   Copyright 2015 by (Dagny Rand) - All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  A billionaire fake Fiancée

  Lose control as he aims to please

  By: Dagny Rand

  A billionaires fake Fiancée

  Neal was pretty sure that his parents really meant business this time. They’d both told him that he needed to calm down with the womanizing, or at least not get caught in public doing it as much for years now. Except this time, he’d been on the news. Naked, and drunk, being forcefully shoved out of a brothel. Never piss off a madam before you finish what you paid for, guys. They won’t even let you put your pants back on if you’re a real ass, and Neal was consistently a real ass.

  He’d taken a flight from Vegas back to New York and gone straight from the airport to his condo, especially once he’d learned that he’d been caught and identified on camera. He hadn’t been home for two hours before he got a phone call instructing him to get out to his parents’ house, right then. They were so determined to have him out there that they sent a car for him, piloted by a guy who looked like he could kick Neal’s ass and everyone else who’d ever existed too. Needless to say, Neal got into the car and took a nice leisurely drive out to his parent’s house.

  His parents were upstate, of course, out where all of the homes were the size of small apartment complexes and cost more than most people make in two years’ time. Where people drove Porsche SUVs as their family cars and Bentleys when it was just ‘him and the misses’. Neal didn’t really miss being out there, he liked being somewhere more alive, like Manhattan. That was one of the main reasons he’d bought his condo there. That, and it was far enough away that unless he landed himself on the news, for the most part his parents had no idea what he was up to.

  “Neal, could you come in here, please,” That was Neal’s mother, Iris. She was in the office with his father, Oscar. His father hadn’t said anything, but he’d smelled a cigar being lit about two minutes ago, announcing his presence. Neal stood, smoothed his hands down the front of his clothes, and walked into the office.

  “Mom, Dad, good to see you both. Wonderful weather we’re having, isn’t it? Unseasonably warm,” he said, sitting in the plush arm chair across the desk from where his father sat, looking stern and unhappy as always. His mother stood beside her husband, her arm resting across the top of his chair as if the two of them were posing for some unhappy portrait.

  “Is there a reason why the first thing that your mother and I saw when we turned on the TV this morning was your naked ass being shoved out of a whore house?” Oscar said. Neal cringed at the word.

  “Dad, no woman there wants to be called that awful word. Can we just call it a brothel, please,” he said. This was why his father didn’t deal with the public. Even before he’d retired, Iris had always been the one who mingled and smiled when needed. Oscar was awful at it.

  “It is what it is, son. The point is, why were you there on the sidewalk, naked and being taped?” he asked. Neal looked down at his hands, and started picking with a nail.

  “Because I pissed off the madam of the house, and because there was media outside for some sort of parade thing that was happening, and they just happened to catch me,” he said. His father made some sort of disapproving grunt and went back to concentrating on his cigar.

  “Neal, we’ve asked that you stop making such a spectacle of yourself, but that doesn’t seem to be going so well for you. The problem now is that you are making people wary of the family business, because you are running it,” Iris said. Neal’s eyes snapped up.

  “The business is doing great, profits have never been higher and employee satisfaction is through the roof,” He said. Iris nodded.

  “I’m aware, but people see your private life splashed across the news and start to lose confidence in our brand. They think that they need to jump ship before you take the whole thing down,” she said.

  “Oh that’s insane, why in the world would a disagreement halfway across the country with a Madam spell doom for Layman Industries?” Neal asked.

  “That is not the point!” Oscar said, slamming his hands down on the desk. Iris put her hand gently on her husband’s shoulder, and calmed him down a bit before she spoke again.

  “Your father and I have decided that you need to do something that proves that your private life is a bit more stable that it really is,” she said.

  “Meaning?” Neal asked.

  “Meaning, you need a fiancée. You need someone who will go out in public with you, laugh off your antics over the past few weeks as something that she knew about, soften up your horrid image as some bad boy millionaire and give you a bit more stability in business circles,” Oscar said. Neal looked from one parent to the other and back again.

  “Are you two insane? Where in the world am I going to find a fiancée? I’m not even seriously dating anyone,” Neal asked.

  “Offer to pay her if she behaves. That works with most women,” Iris said, shocking even Neal with the nonchalant way she casually tossed out the notion that most women were money hungry. That was a bit harsh, even for his thinking.

  “Seriously?!” Neal said, standing.

  “Yes, seriously, son. Now go get it done. You have two weeks to find someone on your own that you can stand and move her into your condo. Otherwise, your father and I will choose someone for you, and you won’t have a choice in the matter,” Iris said. Then she turned and walked out of the office, effectively ending any conversation that Neal might have brought up against this insanity.

  “Dad? Are you really going to let her do this?” he asked. Oscar sighed.

  “You brought this on yourself, son. Just do what she says, the world is happier when she is. And you know how she gets when she doesn’t get her way,” Oscar said before stubbing out the cigar and walking out of the room behind his wife.

  Neal sighed heavily and flopped back down into the chair. Where in the world was he going to find a woman who could stand living with him, or better yet that he could stand having in his personal space all of the time? It would have been easier if they just put someone else in charge of the company in the public eye or something. This was almost impossible.

  Chapter 2

  “Wow, that’s an ugly turn of events,” Scott said. Scott and Neal had met for drinks that afternoon, like they did every week since they’d graduated college together. It was one of the few consistent things in either
of their lives.

  “Yeah, I have no idea how to handle this,” Neal said with a sigh and a frown.

  “You need to get the word out, but in a way that doesn’t attract all the crazies in town. You need a good girl who needs the cash, because some money grubbing gold digger isn’t going to play the part. Either that, or she’d going to blackmail you with it,” Scott said.

  “I hadn’t even though about the fact that this could be held against me,” Neal said, putting his face in his hands. Scott chuckled softly and clapped him on the back.

  “Oh cheer up. Who knows, maybe you’ll pick a girl who ends up being the love of your life, and then it won’t be a lie anymore and everyone will be happy again,” he said. Neal groaned loudly.

  “You are not helping,” he said.

  “Sure I am,” Scott said before taking another drink of his beer.

  “I should be talking to someone else about this, you’ve never been good at making useful decisions,” Neal mumbled. A little mean, but still true. Scott was never who anyone went to when it was time to do something adult-like.

  “Look, here’s what you do: Go somewhere that you wouldn’t normally go, like a bookstore or something. You usually look for girls who you are pretty sure that you’re smarter than, because otherwise you feel intimidated. Find a smart girl who’s down on her luck and needs some cash, but has a brain and a good heart so we won’t take you for everything that you’ve got if you piss her off before this whole thing is over. Problem solved.” Scott said. Neal looked up at him in total shock. That was actually a really good idea, ignoring the fact that the reasoning behind it was a bit offensive, regardless of its truth.

  “Holy shit, Scott. You never make any sense where did that come from?” he asked. Scott smirked.

  “I am at least a halfway functioning adult, so my brain must work from time to time or I wouldn’t be able to keep a roof over my head. Don’t look so shocked,” he said, winking.

 

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