Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Britney
I’d woken up next to Michael in my bed three times the previous night. I tried to be calm, but then our bodies touched, and I was in another world.
The last time I woke up, I curled into him as he lay there but then slowly disentangled myself. Then I saw the light of early morning. I grabbed my phone and read my text messages from the previous night and that morning. Isabel had asked, When do we get to plan your wedding?
Stop, I texted back.
Kelly was first to fire back. He’s hot, cute, and you love British accents .
That wasn’t enough.
Hope wrote next. And he’s rich where you get to live the good life you always wanted .
I cringed. Michael probably thought I was only taking him more seriously because he was rich. I took a deep breath. Having a baby meant I was starting over and needed to change again. And I needed to show Michael it wasn’t about the money.
I wrote back, Talk to you later girls .
I pressed a hand to my stomach and whispered to my baby, “You’ll never be a burden, okay? I don’t know why you think I’m mother material, but we’ll have to figure this out.”
I thought I felt bubbles in my belly, but that was probably just the last night’s dinner.
Then Michael yawned next to me.
I hugged my knees to my chest and said, “Michael, can we talk?”
He sat up without his shirt, revealing all those muscles of his. “Let’s try. If you sit over there and I sit here, we'll see how it goes.”
Fair enough. He’d tried to talk to me, and I’d distracted him. I wasn’t sure how to apologize. Now my heart was racing. “Did you mean what you said to my friends?”
“That I wanted to marry you? Yes.”
I wasn’t prepared to change into a woman of wealth, never mind one with a title. I’d spent my life hustling so that no one would take a deep look at me. A shiver raced down my back since I had nowhere left to hide. “Why would you want that?”
“Because my sister is here to prove how I should be kicked out and she should be the next duchess.”
I narrowed my gaze. “And that’s bad?”
He took my hand, his fingers sending a thrill through me. “Bernadette doesn’t care about anything except herself. Part of why I was so hell-bent on ensuring I had my own fortune was to improve the lands of my ancestors one day.”
Once he saw the real me, though, we’d never be anything more than friends, and even that was a stretch of the word. I took a deep breath and hoped I wasn’t trembling. “Well, I need to go home to my parents in North Carolina and make amends.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Amends? Did you do something wrong?”
Other than leading the charmed one into her bout with drugs, which led to her getting her stomach pumped when I'd barely graduated high school? I’d had no idea she’d ever do anything like that.
I shook my head and said, “I… no. My sister is perfect. She’s smart.
She’s funny. She’s charming. She’s married and has two perfect children.
My parents always wanted me to be like her, but I’m the burdensome one.
So I moved to New York, changed my name, and all I've thought about since finding out I was pregnant was going home with some crazy wish they’d care what happened to me. ”
“It’s not crazy.” His smile was hypnotic. He held out his hand to shake mine. “We can do it together.”
“Yeah?”
I raised my eyebrows and stared into his eyes. If Michael lasted a month at my side, then maybe I could pull off the long game and not end up entirely unfortunate.
I tugged the sheet to cover myself.
“First, my sister for breakfast, then we’ll head to North Carolina for a few days, come back, and then pop off to London.”
I followed his thinking, nodded, and asked, “You’d go as my fake date?”
His eyes widened. “Fake?”
I crossed my legs under myself and faced him directly. “Yeah, if we both just pretend we were in love and that we’re getting married because we love each other, then our baby will be less… judged.”
He held my hands tightly. “I’d like you to be my wife before we head to England.”
Marriage wasn’t an institution I'd ever seen myself in.
“Why?” I asked.
He stared at me. “My child will inherit if we are married, and it gives a whole point to fixing my parents' mess as now, I have someone to give it all to.”
I half smiled then stood as the day was going to start soon. “You make them sound fun. I’m kind of messy too. You’re the only put-together one.”
“And you’re cute sometimes when attempting to be funny.” He was still holding my hand. “A ring on your hand confirms we’re in love and I’m doing great, and then we come back to New York.”
We weren’t in love, but if that was what he needed, then I needed to figure it out. “I’ll have to study up on how to be more of an upscale diva.”
He stood and said, “I don’t know what that means. What was your name before you changed it?”
Soon, he would see I was the wrong bride for him, but a month would get me at least some sort of cover when I went home. I said, “Britney Smith.”
“And that wouldn’t let you blend in with New York?”
I headed into the bathroom as I said, “I wanted to be a Samantha and take the city by storm, but now…“
“Who's Samantha?” he asked and followed.
I opened my cabinet and handed him an extra toothbrush from my supplies. “The character from Sex and the City where nothing ever bothers her and she’s a great friend to those that are loyal.”
We brushed our teeth together, and I sighed as we watched ourselves in the mirror. He was all hard muscles.
When he finished, he said, “You are a good friend to everyone in your girl group.”
I swallowed then whispered, “I don’t know how that translates to being a mom.”
He kissed my cheeks. “Well, I know you don’t need my money, but financially, you’d never have to work again if you say yes.”
Tears formed in my eyes. I’d said no to him because I'd thought he was beneath me, but I was the screwed-up one.
I swiped my tears away and rocked on my feet. “How long?”
He narrowed his gaze. “How long what?”
I headed out as if we were done with our date night already, but then I realized I needed to get ready and wear clothes. I opened my closet and found I had nothing for him. “How long would we have to fool your parents so you can secure your heir thing for our future child?”
“I can’t give you a number right now.”
I shrugged and picked out a simple Alexander Queen denim midi dress with a black belt. “Well, do some research so we can make a well thought-out decision, but I’m ready for now.”
“For?”
I gazed at him. His tall body and that smile of his sent a thrill through me. “Meeting your sister," I said. "We’re going to be late if you don’t get moving.”
“I’ll have my limo and things sent here.”
Wait. My place wasn’t big enough for an "us." It was made for one fabulous woman with clothes and clothes and clothes.
I froze and said, “For the morning.”
He grabbed the pants he’d worn the day before and asked, “Would you want to keep this apartment or move into one we pick together?”
I didn't think we were quite on the same page. As I dressed, I said, “You’re too far ahead. Let’s focus on your sister.”
As he was throwing on his pants, the doorman downstairs buzzed for a package.
I finished dressing and headed into the bathroom because looking like my part needed work.
Soon, though, I would have a son or daughter, and once I figured out who the next me was, then maybe I would be a good mother.
As I put on my mascara, I realized for certain that I would never make a forever duchess or marquess or whatever other title Michael said he had for me.
That role sounded too hard to pull off forever.