Mr. Fake Husband (Alphalicious Billionaires Boss #8) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Alphalicious Billionaires Boss Series by Lindsey Hart
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
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I don’t realize I’m sucked under until Darby’s hand is on my shoulder, pulling me from sleep. I blink, and I’m not staring down the endless highway anymore. No, I’m looking at my garage door.

“Gah.” I swiped my mouth immediately to make sure I didn’t drool. My next thought is about snoring. I don’t know what it is about Darby, but she makes it possible to sleep around her. It’s a first in my life. These past few days, the restful periods were utter blackness. No dreams. No nightmares. No pain. No waking up constantly. No struggling to fall asleep in the first place, and no filling the night hours with work because at least it’s something to do. Just. Rest.

I lean over and punch the garage door button on the visor above Darby’s head. “You can park it inside. I’ll take a cab to the appointment.”

She turns and looks at me funny. “Uh, you don’t want me to drive you?” She’s trying really hard to keep her voice neutral, but I know that I just borderline hurt her.

“It’s probably going to take hours.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind. I can take your car and clean it, even if it is pretty much spotless already. I can also get some more of those coffee beans you love. Or do other errands. I’m good. You don’t have to worry about me.”

I can tell she really, really wants to take me, and not just because she’s worried that I’m lying about going in the first place and wants to see me walk in through the front door herself. I’m an ass, though, and I find it hard to deviate from my general asshole behavior.

I’m also worried that if Darby takes me, there’s room for negotiation, and I don’t want to talk myself out of this.

“You should take a cab home.” I eject myself out the side door as soon as we’re in the garage, the door closing shut behind us. “I’ll pay.”

She’s right behind me, opening the car’s trunk to get our bags, frowning at me with a true frowny frown. “I could wait for you here. Don’t you want to have someone to come home to after?”

Yes! I do. What the heck is wrong with me? It’s only been a few days, eejit, and you’re already addicted to her. Nice. Have you forgotten that she’s not for you? “No need. It’ll probably take days to get the results.”

“Even so…”

“Darby, look. I don’t want to fight about this. I’m getting a wicked headache again.” It’s not fair to put that on her, and when she immediately presses her lips into a pucker to keep in whatever she was going to say, I feel like a regular douchecanoe. Nate was right spot on with that label. I can’t stand her sad puppy dog eyes, so I shoulder past her into the house. I drop my bag as soon as I get in. “I’m going to change.” Then, I leave her there in an unfamiliar house. My house.

Besides the wedding ceremony, she’s the first person I’ve had here other than my sister.

My bedroom doesn’t feel like the usual sanctuary. I’m jerky and clumsy when getting changed, and I want to go out there and tell Darby that I’m sorry. I want to let her drive me. I want to let her come to the damn tests if she wants to. And I want her there by my side for so much longer than this. However, the adult, rational, and logical parts of me all scream at me to let her go. I’m not being fair to her. I need to man up.

I’m worried about finding Darby sitting in the living room, sad and dejected, but I hear rustling in the kitchen, and when I’m dressed, I head there.

Of course, she’s not moping. Darby is way too Darby for that. She refuses to leave me to my own devices. And she refuses to let me go or let me hurt her. She’s always like eight hundred and eighty-nine steps ahead of me. Right now, she’s grilling something in a frying pan on my stove. Yes, in my kitchen. She made food even when she didn’t know where anything was.

I’m pretty sure that all of Darby needs to be filed under what did I ever do to deserve her?

You don’t deserve her, you eejit. Not one bit.

I tell the snarky voice in my head to fuck off and walk into the kitchen, my arms crossed. All of a sudden, Darby whirls around from the stove, and her lips form into a soundless expression of surprise when she sees me. Her eyes, on the other hand, are pure appreciation.

“Oh wow,” she breathes, awe in her voice. “That’s what you’re wearing to your appointment? A suit?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you look good enough to eat. And speaking of that, I’m making you something before you go.”


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