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“Classy,” I mutter.

“What do you care? You’ll be long gone.”

“Well, no, I won’t be if you don’t send me home!”

He exhales, his green eyes snapping with impatience. “I’m not asking for a favor, I’m suggesting a trade.”

“You have nothing I want.”

His head snaps back just the smallest bit, as though I’ve hurt him, but before I can apologize and explain, he gives me that trademark Gage Barrett cool smile.

“Hear me out. I propose that in exchange for you helping me weed out the more toxic women, I help you with your business.”

I’d been all set to argue, but…damn it, High Tee is my passion, my baby, and he darn well knows it.

“Meaning?”

He shrugs. “My social media followers number in the millions. I do a shout-out to my good gal pal Ellie, and…free advertising, babe.”

“Well, not free,” I mutter, taking another sip of wine. “I have to sell out my fellow women.”

“All I need is for you to do what you’re already doing—protecting me from the psychos.”

I scrunch my nose. I’m not seriously considering this…am I?

“I don’t know that I want to be that girl,” I say slowly. “Women who don’t support other women, and all that.”

“That’s why I’m asking you,” he says with a quiet seriousness that gives me pause. “You won’t throw other women under the bus for your own gain or to be petty. But you know what’s right, Ellie. It’s the reason your conscience couldn’t sit by and let me get taken by crazy Maria.”

I stall by holding out my glass for a refill on my wine. He tops it off, and I look down at my glass, swirling it slightly and watching the golden liquid spin, as I think.

“How long are you thinking? Like, how long would I be here?”

“I was thinking we could take it one day at a time. If you’re miserable, I’ll send you home sooner. But if you’re not…free vacation, free advertising, and of course my company.” He looks down pointedly at his biceps, flexing before waggling his eyebrows at me.

“Well, now, why didn’t you say so?” I say, reaching out to squeeze his enormous arm, a little surprised by how natural it feels to touch him, even jokingly.

He surprises me by putting his palm over my hand, pinning it against the soft fabric of his black T-shirt. “Just say yes, Ellie. We’ll have fun.”

“Where, here in our secret cockroach closet?” I say, gesturing around the small room with my wineglass.

He grins. “You said ‘cock.’?”

“Just keep acting like a twelve-year-old, and you won’t have any trouble keeping the women away.”

“You’re certainly resistant.”

“Don’t take it personally.” I gently slip my hand away. “I’m just not really focused on my love life right now.”

“Because your ex chose Silicon Valley over you?”

I narrow my eyes at his bluntness. “I wouldn’t say that’s exactly how it happened.”

Although…it sort of is.

Sean Games did choose Silicon Valley over me. And though I don’t know that he was the love of my life, it stung more than a little when he informed me he was moving, the way a tenant would inform a landlord. A casual “By the way, great news…” thrown out in the middle of dinner.

I’m just glad I figured out that I wasn’t included in the relocation before I’d embarrassed myself by assuming.


Tags: Lauren Layne I Do, I Don't Romance