Chapter X The Three F’s （Brady）
X
The Three F’s
(Brady)
Mission accomplished.
Now it’s time to figure out if this damn illusion will take flight.
With all the notifications flooding in, I swipe my phone to silent. I’m a veteran at this, and it’s better to wait a few hours after major news for the ground to settle. Even when a few million strangers online have an opinion about my fiancée.
It’s almost too calm in my condo. Anticlimactic.
“See you tomorrow, boss.” Luis waves as he lets himself out.
I walk Lena to the sofa, urging her to settle in.
Although she’s smiling, she’s gone pale enough to worry me. I don’t want to turn her loose just yet, though it’s probably her biggest wish.
“Drink?” I ask. “Lots of reason to celebrate after that performance. You were fucking Oscar worthy.”
“No need to lie.” She laughs numbly and shakes her head, playing with the hem of her blouse nervously. She’s dressed in what I’d call business chic.
Luis suggested she dress up, but I prefer it this way.
Just her, without any artificial glamour to throw her off kilter.
If we’re going to play this game, then we should cling to the truth as much as possible to avoid complications.
She’s agreed to move forward with my bullshit, and she deserves a seamless experience.
“I’m going to order some dinner,” I say casually from the kitchen, pulling a few water bottles from the fridge.
Then I change my mind and grab two beers instead.
Hell, we deserve them.
Lena’s gaze flicks toward me. She’s always had a frosty look, like she’s ready to judge me then and there.
A little unsettling.
I also must be all over the damn place from kissing her. I can’t help noticing the way her lips purse, begging to be claimed like a treasure.
I hate that it makes carving the mental distance I need harder.
The softness of her mouth, the way she whimpers, the shy and willing flutter of her tongue on mine.
I’m lucky that video ended when it did. Two seconds longer and the wrong angle, and some joker on the internet probably would’ve noticed the hard-on I couldn’t hide.
“Takeout? What are you having?”
“Mm.” I scroll through the list of restaurants. “I was thinking Thai, but we could do whatever you want.”
She tilts her head as she thinks, her hair piling over one shoulder. That chestnut hair looks like pure velvet, a few natural red highlights coming through as the evening light catches it.
I think I’m fucking jealous of the light for the first time in my life. I want to thread my fingers through her hair instead.
Ridiculous.
This is all an act, and I’d better remember it.
“Thai’s good,” she murmurs.
“Great.” I pull out my phone, open the delivery app, and toss it over. She catches it right before it smacks her in the face. “Sorry. Bad aim. Get whatever you want.”
The beer foams as I crack it open, and I try not to down it in two gulps.
Shit.
I know it’s a summer evening, somewhere in the eighties for temperature, but it’s never this hot in here. I normally don’t crank the AC up unless it’s really oppressive. At this rate, I feel like I need a cold shower to avoid turning into a sticky mess.
I can’t blame it on summer. Having her this close does terrible things to me.
Until the park, I didn’t know how soft Lena Joly could be.
Who knew that a woman who spits fire daily could be all silk, her curves supple and wickedly proportioned to make the barbs on her tongue worth it.
Yeah, there’s more to her than most of the women I’ve dated. This natural look pairs with a take-no-shit energy that hounds me to do diabolical things to her.
I can’t.
I can’t lose my head and make this a thousand times more complicated.
The ring shines nicely on her finger too. I try to keep a lid on my pride, seeing how it fits.
Lucky guess.
Now, I just have to distract myself until I stop daydreaming of kissing the woman wearing it. Pretend or not, it’s a primal impulse I didn’t expect.
This caveman shit warns me there’ll be hell to pay if I don’t check it ASAP.
The way she chews her bottom lip when she thinks doesn’t help at all.
“Here.” After what feels like an eternity later, she passes the phone back.
I punch in my usual order for spicy drunken noodles with shrimp and pretend to check my text messages. The silence yawns between us like a thick blanket.
I almost regret asking her to stay.
Then again, I don’t.
We need to learn to tolerate each other if we’re going to make this work. If we’re going to get past her urge to scratch out my eyes, or my temptation to carry her off to the bedroom over my shoulder.
We need to act like sane people.
There’s too much riding on this deal to blow it now.
“You know, I researched you more last night. Pretty deep dive before I agreed to something totally crazy.” She glances across at me.
“Yeah? I’m not surprised. You don’t just jump in and fake-marry a dude without knowing something.”
“Why pet food?” she asks.
Unexpectedly blunt. But she’s still just staring, waiting for an answer.
“Why pet food,” I repeat.
“You mentioned it at the bar. When I looked it up, I found your website. Pretty well put together. I wasn’t expecting a whole white paper linked to the mission statement.” She smiles curiously.
“I didn’t write it. I have a couple nutritionists who roped their peers into helping me refine my plan.”
“Well, obviously. You don’t get to add scientist to your skills.”
I snort. “If you didn’t sound like such a smart-ass, I might think that was a real compliment.”
“It was. You’re welcome.”
“Shit, Lena. I’d hate to hear what you sound like when you’re insulting someone.”
“Usually I’m happier than this,” she assures me as she sips her beer.
Biting back a smile, I drop down on the sofa, my bottle hanging loosely in one hand.
“I know it’s a crowded market. I’ve heard a hundred reasons to bail out before I blow a ton of money and wind up with nothing to show for it.
But it’s important to give everyone a fair chance to help their pets live long, happy lives. That shouldn’t just depend on money.”
“Fair. Guess you really meant it when you told me that story about the army dog.” She pauses, and I nod. “That’s admirable for Daddy Dollars. If you’re not careful, you’ll lose the nepo baby label with your haters.”
My gut quakes as I snort and shake my head.
“Tragic. How would you hate me, then?” I growl, trying to look unaffected.
Honestly, I fucking hate being told my efforts only mean anything thanks to the family name. Especially because it’s true, minus my stunning success with the dating app.
“It would be a little more convenient,” she says, idly twirling a strand of her hair in the evening light.
“For pretending you’re in love with me? I could see that.”
Her cheeks brighten, and she looks down. “I thought you were a mammoth asshole the first time we met.”
“And the second. Am I down to dwarf elephant yet?”
That thin smile returns, igniting her eyes. They look almost golden in the light.
“Don’t push your luck. You weren’t too great the third time, come to think of it.”
“Only at the end.”
“And the next day.”
“Until we met in the park,” I say, my voice dropping to a whisper.
I kissed her then. Sprang it on her so thick it surprised me, her shock and awe delighting me.
The price was instant addiction.
Fuck, there I go again, thinking about kissing Lena’s soul out.
She’s too damn beautiful, splashed in gold sunset, a stark contrast from the first time I took her lips.
I hadn’t noticed so many details then. Sure, I thought she was pretty with her curves and classic beauty, set in a face that doesn’t smile enough.
But back there, in the park, with her chin lifted and her eyes glowing, I think I already knew how royally screwed I was.
I never could resist a challenge, and she’s handing them out like fucking candy.
For a moment, we’re silent, lost between words.
She curls her legs up under her as she finally relaxes. “I do have a question . . .”
“Shoot.”
“Why me?”
I frown, taking another pull off my beer.
“I mean, why me, specifically? Couldn’t you find someone way better? Like an out-of-work actress?”
Good question. The beer bottle almost cracks under my fingers as I grip the glass, thinking what to tell her.
What the hell. We’re friends, right?
“If you googled me, you must’ve counted how many times I’ve fucked up,” I say carefully. “Needless to say, my past hurt my image and limits my options. Bringing in anyone too desperate—especially from Hollywood—it just didn’t seem wise.”
“Your dating history, you mean?”
“Yeah. Once you’re stuck with the playboy image, it’s impossible to shake.
My antics as a kid and a few times after I came home from the army stalled my career.
It’s not just the family name that gets me a business meeting.
For too many people, it’s the only reason.
” I suck down the rest of my beer. “If I could give up my money and comfort to take it all back, to start over, I’d push the button. No hesitation.”
“Is that what you’re hoping with this? Besides buying time with your parents, I mean. To have this sham make the old Brady disappear . . .” Her mouth purses and tilts to one side as she looks at me, her brown eyes softer than ever.
“I want it to bury him alive.” My voice is thunder, low and intense.
“Wow, you’re serious. The prince wishing he could just be a peasant—that’s classic myth stuff. Was everything about your old life so bad? Most guys would kill for your edge with women. If you didn’t have the media blowback, I mean.”
I pause.
“What life? What edge? The one where I’ve screwed myself out of having a chance with any decent girl?
Where I’m stuck dating women from rich, insular families so close they feel like cousins?
” I shake my head. “No, fuck that entirely. Any woman I’m going to be with has to be authentic going forward.
I need chemistry beyond the looks and a love for world travel. ”
“Apart from me, you mean.”