By day three of my forced leave from work, I’m already going crazy.

I’ve watched about twenty hours of house-flipping shows and more Lifetime movies than I thought I’d watch in … well, a lifetime. I’ve cleaned out my closet and scrubbed the grout in my shower to within an inch of its life. I’ve made two batches of cookies and a loaf of banana bread and a pineapple cheesecake, which I pawned off on some of my neighbors. I’d even tried making homemade cat treats for my cat, but of course he’d turned his nose up at them. I’d pawned those off on a neighbor too.

Yet I’m still restless. Lost.

To be honest, I’d probably be enjoying my time a lot more if I didn’t keep thinking about him.

This time him isn’t Martin, though. It’s Jace.

I still can’t believe he’s engaged. I mean, it’s true that I don’t know much about his personal life — I don’t even know his last name, for God’s sake. He’s just Jace The Bartender to me. So I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that he has a woman in his life.

Still, I never would have pegged him as a cheater. There’s just something that seems decent about him, underneath the chiseled abs and the cocky smirk.

Then again, I’d thought Martin was a decent guy too. Maybe my scumbag radar is broken.

I stalk to the kitchen and throw open the freezer door, grabbing one of the pints of Ben & Jerry’s that I’d picked up earlier today. It was already almost gone. Luckily I’d bought a few pints — I could already tell it was going to be that kind of week.

I’d thought about calling my best friend Rori, maybe see if she wanted to go get drinks, but I knew I’d have to tell her about Jace and it was still too raw. She already knew all about Martin and about my temporary leave of absence from the firm — although I hadn’t quite gotten into the whole muffin-throwing thing — but for some reason, this was the one thing I wasn’t ready to share yet.

Maybe I was worried about what it said about me, that I had helped him cheat on an innocent woman.

And maybe I was worried about the fact that despite that, I still couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I dig the spoon angrily into the rock hard ice cream. I’m just about to inhale a massive chunk of frosty brownie when my phone rings. I glance down quickly and see that it’s the front desk of my building. I frown. Maybe a package?

“This is Celia.”

“Hello, Ms. Jeffries, this is Abel at the front desk. There’s a Jace here to see you. Should I let him up?”

My mouth hangs open. I drop the spoon and the brownie back into the ice cream tub, forgotten. I hold my phone out for a second and stare at it, as if I can understand it better this way.

“Ms. Jeffries?” I hear Abel’s voice distantly. “Would you like him to come up?”

“Yes.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Shit. I try to take them back but Abel’s already thanked me and hung up.

Shit shit shit. Why is he here? What could he possibly want? If he thinks he’s getting any from me, he’s sadly mistaken. The only thing he’s going to get is a tongue-lashing. And I don’t mean of the erotic variety.

I glance around the apartment. I’ve done a lot of cleaning in the past few days, but I’ve also managed to make a mess. The coffee table is littered with wine glasses and magazines and the six bottles of nail polish I used to try to recreate some nail art I saw on Pinterest, and the half box worth of cotton pads I used to scrub off said nail art.

I start frantically trying to tidy the place, even lint-brushing cat hair off the sofa, all the while wondering why I care what Jace thinks of my apartment. If I was smart, I’d just meet him out in the hallway and tell him to get lost.

I glance down at my outfit and realize there’s no way I’m going out into the hall looking like this. Stupid pajamas.

I’m just about to dart into my room to change when there’s a knock on the door.

Fuck.

“Coming!” I come around the sofa, and in my rush to get to the door, stub my toe on the leg of the coffee table. “Ow! Jesus!”

I grab my foot and hop towards the door, glaring back at the coffee table. God, I’d loved that stupid thing once, with its antique iron legs and the old-fashioned Loft & Barn logo etched on the underside. Now I want to throw it out the window.

I throw the door open, still awkwardly holding my foot, and glare at Jace.

“What?” I demand.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, just stands there taking me in. With my stupid little shorts and the tank-top that my cleavage is now spilling out of.

Jace takes it all in. All of it. Slowly, assuredly, with that same damn cocky smirk.

And despite all my best intentions, I feel my skin start to warm under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Not quite the outfit I expected to find you in,” he says. “Where’s the business lady special?”

“I had the day off. These are my pajamas.”

“I like them.”

“Shut-up.”

“No, really. I have the exact same pair.”

That makes me giggle, though I immediately bite down on my tongue to make myself stop.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“I can’t imagine you have anything to say that I want to hear.”

He raises his eyebrows. Despite everything, his blue eyes twinkle. “I think I do.”

I have to admit, that intrigues me. What does he think he could possibly say to me? I make a quick decision, one I hope I don’t come to regret.

“You have five minutes,” I tell him sternly, opening the door wide enough to let him in.

Jace steps into my apartment, and his presence fills the space immediately. All I can think about is coming back here the other day, the two orgasms he’d given me, pressed up against this very wall.

My pussy starts to dampen just at the thought, and I find my walls clenching around nothing, remembering the feel of his fingers sliding roughly into me. I swallow and turn away, hopefully before he can see the color in my cheeks.

He follows me into the living room and takes a seat on the sofa. I don’t dare sit anywhere near him so I sit on the chair opposite. I grab a cardigan that’s lying draped on the back and pull it on, yanking it closed across my chest. Very poor choice in outfit, Celia, I scold myself.

When I finally pull myself together, I turn and glare at Jace.

“Well? What is it you wanted to tell me?”

He takes a deep breath. His hands are in his lap and I can see the way that they’re balled into tight fists.

“First, I want to apologize.”

His voice is deep and rumbly, and it echoes through my apartment. And through my body. But an apology doesn’t cut it.

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.” I can’t get his poor fiancee out of my head.

He grins ruefully. “That’s the thing, though. You are. There’s no one else.”

Confusion works its way through me. “What do you mean?

He takes another deep breath. “I don’t have a fiancee.”

I laugh bitterly. “I guess she dumped your sorry ass? Can’t say I blame her.” I know I’m being a bitch but I can’t help it. It’s my only defense mechanism against those bright blue eyes, that chiseled jaw.

Jace shakes his head, almost laughing. “No. Celia — there never was a fiancee. I made the whole thing up.”

My forehead wrinkles. Despite myself, I’m leaning forward. My cardigan’s pulled open again and I’m sure my breasts are practically spilling out of my shirt, but all I can do is try to parse what Jace is telling me.

“You … made it up? Why would you do that?” Then I narrow my eyes. “And why should I believe you?”

He sits back on the sofa. His posture is more relaxed now, almost as if he’s relieved to have gotten the words out.

He spreads his hands out on his knees. “You should believe me because I’m about to tell you the truth … and trust me, the truth is way more embarrassing than just letting you go on believing I have a fiancee.”

I wait for him to continue. My lungs barely seem to be working and I’m gripping the arms of the chair I’m sitting in.

“I don’t have the best relationship with my brothers. We had a falling out a few years ago about … well, it doesn’t matter about what. The point is we don’t talk very much. Anyway, it turns out my brother Trent got engaged a few months ago, and I didn’t even know until I got the stupid wedding invitation. So when he called to see if I was coming to the wedding, I panicked. I didn’t want him to think I was the same fuck-up I used to be, so I lied and said I was engaged.”

I study his face, but there’s no trace of deception in it. Either Jace The Bartender is the best liar on the planet or he’s telling the truth.

He sees me trying to read him. “Trust me, this is painful for me to admit. If I didn’t need your help, I might have even let you go on thinking I was just a cheating bastard. It’d be less humiliating than this.”

His words ping something in my brain. “What … what do you mean, if you didn’t need my help?”

Jace leans forward. The nerves seem to be back.

“I was going to call my brother back and tell him I’d just been kidding about the fiancee thing … but now he’s gone and told everyone in my family.”

I narrow my eyes. I think I know where he’s going with this … but he can’t be serious. Can he?

Jace takes another deep breath. “So suddenly I find myself in need of a fiancee. And I thought maybe you could do it. Fly out to Chicago with me and be my fiancee for a week, just for the wedding.”

The laughter bursts from my mouth. I stare at him, waiting for the punchline, but he just sits there watching me. Expectantly.

“Jace, come on. You can’t be serious. You want me to be your fake fiancee?”

He spreads his hands out and grins. “Pretty much, yeah. Sounds kinda stupid when I say it out loud,” he admits.

“Kind of? Yeah. There’s no way we can fool your family into thinking we’re engaged.”

He shakes his head. “Actually, I was thinking about this, and it wouldn’t be too hard. I haven’t seen them in years, and they hardly know anything about my life now. It should actually be pretty easy for you to fit in. Then, once we’re back in New York, I’ll wait a month or so and then call them and give them the news that we broke up.”

I gnaw on my bottom lip. What Jace is saying is ludicrous. Isn’t it? Be someone’s fake fiancee? Especially after I just got finished being someone’s real fiancee?

“What’s in it for me?”

Jace grins. “I thought you might ask that.”

I shrug. “I’m a lawyer.”

“And a good one, I’ll bet.”

I fight back a grin. “I don’t want to brag but … yeah.”

“Well, I’m good at what I do too.” Jace grins.

“Bartending.”

“No. Fucking.”

He says it so plainly that I almost choke on my own breath. Blood instantly rushes to my cheeks — not to mention between my legs. Jace is grinning as he watches me try to get myself under control again.

“Is that so?” I finally manage to squeak out.

He nods. “Yeah. You only got a taste the other day, but agree to do this for me and it’ll be nothing but mind-blowing sex all week. I’ll make sure you come over and over and over. With my hands, my tongue, my cock — I’ll make you come in ways you never even dreamed of.”

My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I squirm in my seat, pulling one leg up underneath me. My pussy is aching already, just at his words, at the lustful way he’s looking at me right now, like I’m a challenge he doesn’t intend to lose.

“Hmm.” It’s all I can manage, but it just makes Jace grin wider.

“Well, if that’s not enough to sell you, you’ll also get an all-expenses paid trip to Chicago out of this. We’ll stay at a nice hotel, go to a swanky wedding and probably a few parties and nice dinners.”

“That sounds … nice.” Truthfully, though, all I can think about are the orgasms. Considering the man made me come twice before he even took his own shirt off, I have no doubt that he’s capable of delivering on exactly what he’s promised.

And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. Lord knows that after everything with Martin, I could use some fun.

And by fun, of course, I mean climaxes.

Jace is about to say something else when his phone rings. He fishes it out from his pocket and frowns at the display.

“Sorry,” he says, glancing over at me. “My mother. Do you mind if I take this.”

“Not at all,” I say, though part of me is remembering the trouble his ringing phone caused us last time.

He gets up off the couch as he hits the answer button.

“Hi Mom.” He pauses, glances at me. “Yeah, Trent told you, eh? I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, it’s just all been really sudden. We were going to tell everyone at the wedding, but you know Trent, he weaseled it out of me.”

Jace eyes me while he’s talking, as if he’s trying to read my expression. I haven’t actually agreed to go along with this, and here he is, confirming it for his mother.

He takes a couple of steps across the room and puts one of his big hands on my shoulder. The touch instantly sends a jolt through me. Until I hear what he says next.

“Yeah, she’s right here, actually.” Jace grins down at me. “Do you want to talk to her?”

My eyes go wide and I start frantically waving my arms.

“No, Jace!” I’m mouthing. “No!”

“Yup, here she is.”

He hands me the phone, grinning.