Page 24 of Sweet Surrender

“Okay.” My voice is barely a whisper and I dare not look in Jase’s direction. If I do, I’ll either burst out in a nervous and inappropriate giggle or avert my gaze due to embarrassment. “I took drama in high school. I can do the pretend kiss thing. Easily.”

“Easily,” Jase mimics me with that crooked smirk.

Yes, I looked at him. I looked even when I had no intention of doing so, and now we’re locked in that strange staring contest that stirs things inside me—sweet aches and slow burns—when I’m not his type.

Not to mention, he is not my type. Clearly. Be kind to yourself, Hendrix. This has nothing to do with types and everything to do with money.

“I don’t facilitate payments for sex,” Nathaniel says.

“And I don’t need to pay anyone for sex,” Jase adds.

“I doubt you do,” I say and roll my eyes as his grin widens. “So, no sex. But this is fake, right? So does that mean no having sex with other people while we’re ‘married?’”

“Correct,” Nathaniel says.

“Come on now,” Jase groans. “Celibate for four whole months?”

“If I have to be sexually frustrated, Mr. Gizmodo, then you do too,” I snap at him.

“Mr. Gizmodo?” He nods. “Is that what you’re going to say when you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you. I just think it’s presumptive to assume that you’re the only one who has needs. If I have to resist the urge, then so do you.”

“Point well made,” Nathaniel says.

“Besides, I’m doing you the favor here. I’d rather not be humiliated on a public stage that I’m so horrible in bed, my husband of less than four months can’t keep it in his pants.”

“Who told you that you were horrible in bed?” Jase asks, missing everything else I said.

“No one,” I lie, thinking of Paul and the zingers he landed in that final fight. God, they’ve done a number on my self-esteem. “I said it merely to make a point.”

But Jase holds his glance longer than he should, and that tells me he just might have seen right through me.

And that’s unnerving on so many levels.

“You can call me Gizmo. Or Jase. Not Gizmodo,” Jase says.

“He hates Jase,” Nathaniel chimes in.

“Not when she says it,” Jase says, which has his brother looking at him with a curious expression.

“I’ll expect the blood tests showing you’re clean as well.”

“I don’t do drugs,” Jase says.

“I wasn’t talking about drugs.” My smile is short but pointed.

Jase sputters out a cough. “I don’t have any sexually transmitted diseases.”

“Great. Then it won’t be hard to get that to me.” I shrug. “I’ll provide the same. It seems only fair seeing as you want me to live with you.”

“Very fair,” Nathaniel says as Jase glares at him.

“This conversation is something else,” Jase murmurs like he’s a bystander when he’s the main subject.

“When it comes to the press . . . that terrifies me,” I admit.

“Understandably. We’ll keep interaction with them to a minimum. You’re newlyweds who want your privacy. I’d suspect that your business might get a little busier than normal. We’ll get a security guard stationed there to help you keep the crazies at bay and to keep you safe.”