Page 62 of Bad Run

“Give him a free place to stay, and he will be on the next flight out. He’s been wanting to make a change, anyway.”

“You mean get away from all his crazy exes,” I tease.

Jenna waves me off. “Tomato, tomahto.”

“There is no way it would work.”

Lying to my family about being married, just so Dad promotes me, sounds like a bad idea. If he just gave me a chance, like he did my brothers, he’d see I can lead the PR and marketing department with my eyes closed. Then I wouldn’t feel like I have to resort to crazy schemes.

But he also said he wouldn’t change the rules. So …

Jenna scoffs. “Are you kidding? Ty is a great actor. The role of fake husband was made for him. Plus, you know him, so you know there won’t be a fuss at the end of this.”

“My family would never believe it.”

“Sure, they will. Come visit me, then you can say the two of you reconnected while you were visiting and, voilà. Married. Bonus: Your parents have never met Ty. They’d be none the wiser.”

“I don’t know,” I hesitate.

Juju would know. There isn’t a thing the sly old woman misses. Even if getting married was her idea and she would have my back, she’d never believe Ty is the man of my dreams.

“At least let me talk to Ty about it?” Jenna asks.

It can’t hurt to talk to Ty and see if he’d be interested in pretending to be my husband. At least until the end of the season.

“Fine. You can talk to him.” I sigh, surrendering.

It’s not as thoughe I have to go through with it. I can back out of the plan at any time.

“Yay!” Jenna does a little dance on her couch, waving her arms in the air. “You’re getting married.”

The door slams into the wall, shaking the entire conference room and startling me.

“What the fuck?” a booming voice shouts.

My body locks tighter than a bank safe, and shivers race down my spine as I glance over my shoulder at the looming presence.

Lance is fuming as he fills the doorway with his height and broad shoulders.

Face red, jaw tight, wide shoulders rising and falling with ragged breaths, he pierces me with his cornflower-blue gaze. His eyes are dark, icy daggers as he stares at me. Anger, disbelief, and some other emotion I can’t quite nail down color his expression.

“Oh shit,” Jenna mumbles in the background, reminding me of her presence.

Lance’s sudden appearance sucked all the air from the room, making it hard for me to breathe, let alone think.

“Jenna, I’ll call you later.” Without taking my eyes off the imposing figure standing before me, I reach for my phone and end the call.

The dress shirt stretched tight across Lance’s chest is rumpled with sleep, as are his slacks. Beneath the anger, he looks tired, and the five-o’clock shadow on his chin confirms it.

Why does he have to be so damn hot?

Even angry and tired, he’s a marble statue of toned muscle, strong masculine features, and beauty.

“You’re getting married?” he repeats.

“What? No.” I jump from my seat and rush toward him.

Peeking out the door, I make sure the coast is clear before grabbing his wrist and tugging him inside the conference room. I shut the door behind him, giving us privacy.