The evening comes way too soon until it’s time for dinner.
However, it’s only because his mighty ass demanded I finish moving my clothes and other items to his bedroom upstairs by the end of the day. I’m pretty sure he secretly loves seeing our clothes arranged together in the closet more than I do. For a man who despises intimacy except while fucking, he sure likes to make me an exception.
It does strange things to my already confused head.
Last I saw, he was busy talking on the phone in another room, which I’m guessing will be his home office since the movers brought in and placed a sleek wooden desk inside, along with a matching chair. It was the only new furniture since the rest of the apartment was fully furnished. Though I wouldn’t mind replacing a few things.
While he’s gone, I order us both some food. Chinese for him and a burger and fries for me. It will take another half an hour for it to arrive so I sit at the dining table, pull out my laptop, and work on a project I’m behind on. I took half a day off today with the moving and all, so I now have a lot of emails to catch up on.
I’m a few minutes in when my phone starts ringing and Arya’s name flashes on the screen. Looks like Mom finally discussed it with her if she’s calling. Everything happened so fast that it slipped my mind to tell my sister myself. Last time we talked, I didn’t reveal much.
“Hi, Ari,” I chirp, picking up the call.
“You got engaged to Dash Stern?” she screeches in a high-pitched voice.
“Did Mom tell you?”
“Mom? What, no,” she denies. Her tone sounds taken aback. “It’s all over the news, Bee. One of my colleagues showed me a tabloid with you standing beside Dash. How come you never told me you’re dating a freaking billionaire? Why would you keep it a secret?”
I’m still processing the news of an article being out there to hear the rest of her words. Thanks to my dad shielding us from the limelight, the media has never paid much attention to write some gossip story about me.
It means Dash is probably the reason there’s one out there, which is going to make my dad pissed.
Another complication I didn’t need.
And shouldn’t Dash have warned me that the fucking paparazzi stalks him? Just how famous is he? So many questions, not a lot of time for answers.
“Bee? You there?” Arya’s voice pulls me back to focus on the present.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”
“So it’s true then? You and Dash? Do Mom and Dad know?” she asks in rapid fire succession.
“Yes. We had lunch with them on Sunday and announced the big news.”
“Was this the reason you told me to win Aryan back?”
The relief and giddiness I hear in her voice when she utters his name strengthens my resolve and reminds me why I’m going through with this charade in the first place. Love really makes us do stupid things.
“Of course, Ari. I told you everything will turn out fine. Once I’m happily married, you can ask Dad for yours and Aryan’s next year.”
“How did he take it when you told them?” Her tone is hesitant and low. “Was Ma happy?”
I wonder if I should share the whole debacle and tension at lunch because Arya has never been able to understand my complicated relationship with our parents. More often than not, she sides with them and honestly, it’s not her fault they get along. But that doesn’t mean it hurts less. Their values and desires simply align.
“They’re not talking to me.”
“Seriously? But why?”
“Because I chose the man myself and didn’t tell them before becoming engaged.” I sigh, a headache slowly forming. “It’s like I can’t win with them. The article will only make them madder.”
“They’re being silly. Dash is better than any man they could’ve picked for you, Bee,” she consoles. “I’ll talk to them.”
“Don’t you dare,” I immediately counter, shaking my head even though she can’t see.
At my firm tone, she mutters, “Fine. But we’re meeting this Sunday and you’re telling me all about your secret whirlwind romance. I can’t believe you hid it from me. God! I have so much to ask you.”
If only she knew the truth. “Sure, Ari. I gotta go. My dinner’s here.”
“Congratulations, by the way,” she replies in a singsong voice. “Bye, Bee. Love you.”
I hang up just as the doorbell rings. Shutting down my laptop, I walk to the front door and return to the kitchen while carrying the food bag. The smell of the burger, enticing and lifting my troubled mood.
As I rest it on the island, my phone notifies me about a text message. Curious, I make my way to the dining table and I pull up short when I see it’s from my mother. Arya better not have ignored my warning and talked to her.
MOM: Your father and I would like to have dinner with you this Sunday. Bring your fiancé. We’d like to meet him too.
“Well, damn,” I mutter. Maybe there’s hope, after all. But first, I need to confirm, so I text Arya.
ME: Did you talk to Mom?
Her reply comes instantly.
ARI: Of course not. You told me not to.
The sounds of footsteps approaching has me tucking away my phone and I face away to take out our food, plates, and two bottled waters. I’m a bit nervous at the thought of living with a man for the first time. Suddenly, it hits me that this is too intimate, as if we’re a real couple even though it’s fake.
Still, it’s nerve-racking. I’m not even trying to think about when I’ll have to sleep beside him on the same bed. I could just sneak to my old apartment once he falls asleep. Then in the morning, I’ll return before he’s awake and he’ll be none the wiser.
Hmm… It could totally work.
Satisfied with my little plan, I turn around. “I hope you like Chinese because—”
The rest of the words get stuck in my throat and all my thoughts scatter while every nerve ending in my body comes to life at the sexy vision before me. I swallow the drool threatening to fall out of my mouth while my eyes try to decide where to stare at first. Looking away is an impossibility and breathing seems secondary.
Because Dash is standing shirtless in our kitchen.
His ripped muscles look carved from the finest stone and chiseled to perfection. Muscular seems too tame a word to describe his veiny forearms, broad chest, and eight-pack abs with the happy trail leading to the bulge beneath his black sweatpants.
Sweet mercy! Who fucking needs eight-pack abs?
I swear if sex appeal had a name, it’d be Dash Stern. Don’t get me wrong, Dash is powerful and magnetic in his pristine thousand-dollar suits but the half-naked him is a sight to behold. Sexy. Sinful. Irresistible. Freshly showered with his hair still wet, pants dangerously low against the V of his hips—he’s mouthwatering. My fingers itch to dig into the cuts and planes of his hard abs to explore every inch of him for hours.
What will it feel like to have him pressed against my naked skin?
My stomach hollows and I have the strong urge to squeeze my legs to ease the ache that his perfect physique ignites. It’s like my brain has stopped functioning because I can’t rip my eyes away and stop staring like a sex-starved creep.
Is he going to flaunt his body in my face every day? How the fuck am I supposed to resist him? It’s like I’m taken back to seven years ago when he roamed around shirtless in his house. Silly of me to think he would’ve changed.
Dash clears his throat. I blink and wrench my gaze to his. My cheeks redden when I find a smug smirk gracing his too handsome face. His green irises, sparking with lust and delight at my stuttering and salivating state.
My head tilts back on instinct when he approaches behind the counter and I’m enveloped in his smoky scent with a hint of aftershave. The breath whooshes out of my lungs when he crowds me from behind and leans over my shoulder to check out the food.
“Smells delicious,” he whispers in my ear.
“It’s from a popular restaurant.”
“Wasn’t talking about the food, kitten.”
I blush like a schoolgirl while he pulls away, his fingers ghosting over my waist just shy of touching. It takes me a few seconds to recover and meet his gaze as he helps me set the plates and carry the water to the table. The muscles in his back, rippling and flexing with each step, and I want to cry at the sensory torture.
If this is his plan to seduce me without touching, I’m afraid he’ll succeed.
Following him, I sit across from his seat and avoid his piercing gaze by busying myself in pulling out the fries and burger. He fills his plate with his own food but unlike him, I can’t concentrate on anything except his naked chest or his hair falling on his forehead, giving him a boyish look.
“You keep staring at me like that, wifey,” he says in a low, husky voice before hooded eyes meet mine, “and I’d be tempted to make a meal out of you.”
My hands pause halfway to my mouth and I act aloof and annoyed while my body hums in pleasure. Ignoring it, I shrug and snap, “Then go wear a shirt.”
“Or you could take off yours so I have something to look at too.”
“Nice try.” I laugh, rolling my eyes.
His low chuckle reverberates down my spine and then we both dig into our plates. The second I bite down on my burger, I forget all about Dash and his distracting body while my taste buds sigh in pleasure. I don’t know what they put in the bread and the patty that has me addicted.
Who gives a fuck if it’s unhealthy when it tastes like heaven?
The sudden loud scraping of a chair has me freezing and focusing on a tensed Dash standing over me. “What?”
Shaking his head, he grabs his plate and walks past me while muttering something like, “Death of me.”
Moody asshole. I finish eating my dinner before I remember my mom’s earlier text. Turning to him while he stands with his back to me, I ask, “Did you read the article about us?”
“Yes,” he answers swiftly.
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
He whips around and his broad shoulders move as he shrugs, “I told you there are rumors going around about me and it has put me under the media’s radar. Usually, I only have to worry about them back home.”
“What rumors?”
His gaze sharpens. “You’re telling me your friends haven’t filled you in?”
My guilty face says it all but I don’t shy away as I ask in a nonjudgmental voice, “Is it true?”
Gripping the marble counter on each side, he leans back and crosses his legs as he quirks an impassive eyebrow. “You think I’m capable of killing a man, kitten?”
“No.” I’m surprised by the conviction I feel down to my bones. Dash can be described as a lot of things but never as a remorseless killer. He certainly wouldn’t jeopardize his business by being hotheaded. I can tell he’s relieved at my answer because the furrow in his brow disappears. “I can’t be sure about my parents, though.”
“It’s not their opinion that matters to me.”
The sincerity in his voice has me feeling all gooey inside and special. “You really don’t like them, do you?”
“They haven’t given me a reason so far.”
“Well then, it’s going to be one awkward dinner.” I wince. When he stares, confused, I explain, “They’ve invited us for dinner this Sunday.”
“Do you believe they changed their mind about us?”
I rest my chin on my steepled fingers as I answer, “I think it’s a test to judge us as a couple under their terms and territory.”
“They want to see if we’re really in love,” he softly says and I nod. “Then you might want to hone your acting skills. You’re terrible.”
“I am not,” I snap, offended.
He pushes off the counter and walks to where I’m sitting and accuses, “You almost gave us away last time.”
“Because you came out of thin air announcing we’re engaged.”
“I still think you can do better,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks out of the kitchen. “I can’t be saving your ass every time, kitten.”
He’s out of my view before I can respond with a smart-ass remark. Come Sunday dinner, I’ll show him just how in love I can be.
