Bane Fox knows exactly what he wants in life: financial stability.
He does not want to be homeless.
He does not want to be the president of an HOA.
It’s rather unfortunate he is both of those things.
Oh, and did I forget to mention he has a fake wife?
Yeah, that’s me
Excerpt . . .
I didn't bother pointing out her lie. No one stood in Carol’s window, and Nola hadn't bothered to look over her shoulder to check.
I studied the face in front of me. Her fake smile had been replaced with a soft look as she gazed back into my eyes.
"Okay," I said with a smile. I wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer, our hips brushing against each other.
"How was the little wife's day at work?"
Nola arched a smooth brow. "Little wife? Hmm, I think you're going to have to pick something different."
"How about Mrs. HOA?"
She scrunched her face up as she thought about it. "No, I don't think so. I think I prefer 'Your Highness.'"
She screeched when I ran my fingers up the side of her ribs. She leapt back, smacking at my reaching hand, laughing loudly. "Stop that!"
I made one more half-hearted grab for her. She glared at me. "If you tickle me, I won't share my pizza!"
I held both hands in the air in surrender. "When you say pizza, you mean..."
She narrowed her eyes at me as she opened the minivan door. "I mean pepperoni and cheese."
I shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying."
She passed the pizza to me, shut the car door, then smacked my butt as she jogged by.
I really wished our relationship was real. Maybe it could be.
About the Author . . .
When she's not writing, you can find her chasing after three little boys, ignoring her laundry pile, pretending to work out, drinking large amounts of coffee, and consuming as many cinnamon rolls as possible.
Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads | Bookbub | Amazon | Newsletter