“What the hell is that?”

Tyler laughs as he looks up. “A treehouse. Haven’t you ever seen a treehouse before?”

“That’s not a treehouse,” I say, tilting my head back to look all the way up. “That’s bigger than the shack I grew up in.”

“You grew up in a shack?” he asks, looking at me funny.

“A shack would have been an improvement,” I say with a sigh. “I lived in a van for most of my, well, what normal people would call a childhood.”

“What do you call it?”

“Hell,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Why do you look surprised? You just met my parents.”

The huge treehouse is sitting in a large beautiful maple tree with wooden planks nailed into the thick trunk. It looks like it could be in a Norman Rockwell painting, if old Norm lived in the rich part of town.

Tyler helps me up first, which I initially think is nice until I’m halfway up and realize that he only let me go first so that he could see up my dress.

“Eyes on the tree,” I say, frowning as I stare down at him, “and not on the bush.”

He chuckles as he follows me up, keeping his eyes in front of him.

This treehouse is like something out of the Swiss Family Robinson after a home makeover. It has a freaking leather couch in it. “Are you kidding me?” I ask, looking around in shock. There are curtains over the windows, a rug on the floor, even a mini fridge that looks like it hasn’t been plugged in for a while.

Tyler laughs as he climbs in. “You didn’t have one of these growing up?” he asks with a smile.

“I lived in a tree for a week,” I say, popping my head into the other room. How many rooms does this thing have? “But it was because our van was in the garage for repairs.”

He’s staring at me in shock. “You’re kidding, right?”

I wish I was.

“It wasn’t so bad once the squirrels accepted me as one of their own,” I say, plopping down on the couch. I take a deep breath as Tyler sits beside me. “You don’t know how happy I am to be here.”

Tyler looks at me with a grin. “You’re telling me you weren’t enjoying the party full of my parent’s stuffy friends?”

“Oh, my God,” I say, cringing when I hear a tune being carried over with the nice summer breeze. That sound can only be one thing.

“What is that?” Tyler asks, tilting his head as he listens to it.

I drop my head into my hands. “A didgeridoo. My father is playing his freaking didgeridoo.”

“Didgerie-what now?”

“You may recognize it as the long wind instrument played by indigenous Australians, but I recognize it as pure embarrassment from my teenage years.”

“Wow,” Tyler says, trying not to laugh at my horrible misfortune. “I thought I had it bad growing up.”

“You had it bad growing up?” I say, staring at him in shock. “Yeah, it must have been so hard wearing thousand-dollar outfits and getting a brand-new Porsche on your sixteenth birthday.”

He gives me a tight smile. “Money isn’t everything,” he says. “You try living in a house with my parents and their insanely strict expectations. This community is all about what you have and who you are. I always wanted to get away from it all.”

I wave my arms, gesturing around to the treehouse. “You basically had an apartment to get away from it all.”

He laughs. “Not like that,” he says. “I always wanted to get away from these people. I always wanted to live in a place without so many expectations—a place where people can just relax and be themselves without trying to step on the person beside them to get ahead.”

“It sounds like you would love Summerland,” I say. My stomach drops just thinking about my cute little town where everyone knows my name. “Quick, go visit it before your company closes it down.”

“I won’t close it down,” Tyler says.

“You might not be the one to make that decision,” I say. “It seems like your cousin Nick has already made it.”

Tyler grits his teeth together. “He’s not getting the position.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“That’s what I say.”

I don’t want to say it but I have to. “You’re going to need help. I can help you get the promotion.”

He looks at me in shock. “You want to work together?”

I take a deep breath as I sink back into the couch. “I want to keep the factory open, and it seems like helping you is the only way to do that.”

“Are you going to be able to pretend that you’re my loving wife?” he asks.

My heart starts to beat a little faster as I watch him. He looks so gorgeous in his fitted suit and with his hair gelled to the side like that. It still blows my mind that he was inside of me.

“It’s easy to pretend here in Vegas where you don’t know anybody,” he goes on. “But you’ll have to pretend when you get back home. Everyone at work, in town, your friends—they’ll all think we’re married.”

I try to hide my grin. I can’t wait to see the look on everyone’s face when I pull up in a shiny new Ferrari and walk out with this piece of man candy on my arm.

“I think I can handle that,” I say. But I’m not doing this for the looks on people’s faces. I’m doing this to save my town. “I’m all in. As long as you don’t try any husband and wife stuff behind closed doors, we’ll be fine.”

“What kind of husband and wife stuff?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I give him a look. “You know what I’m talking about.”

He grins. “All right. We’re a team.”

“A team?” I ask, rolling my eyes at him. “And is this our clubhouse?”

“It sure is,” he says, starting to look around. He drops to his knees and looks under the couch, giving me a quick view of his nice ass. I can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing his red boxer briefs.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, watching him as he looks behind a loose wooden plank. “Invisible ink to write out our clubhouse rules?”

“That’s a good idea,” he says, putting the plank back in place, “but no. I’m sure I have a bottle of alcohol stashed somewhere up here.”

I jump off the couch and start ripping up the couch cushions as he checks the other room. I could really use a drink right about now. I’m not sure what it is, but as soon as I hear my father playing his didgeridoo in public, I immediately need a strong drink.

When I yank up the last cushion, a dogeared nudie magazine falls to the floor. I laugh as I pick it up with my two fingers, holding as little of it as I can.

“Looks like alcohol is not the only thing you have stashed up here,” I say. Tyler comes back from the other room and bursts out laughing when he sees what I’m holding. My mouth waters when I see a bottle in his hand.

“That was my favorite porn mag,” he says, taking it from me. He flips through the naked pictures as he nods with a nostalgic smile on his face. “Ooooh, I remember her.”

“Are you done looking at your porn?” I ask, still eying the bottle. It’s Goldslick Vodka. Probably tastes like paint thinner, but I would happily drink paint thinner right now. I would drink anything that would drown out the sound of my father’s didgeridoo. “I need a drink.”

Tyler slips the magazine back under the couch and grabs the bottle. “Good, because I have just the thing.”

I lick my lips as I stare at it. “Are those little gold flakes floating around in there?”

“Yup. Rumor has it that they slice the inside of your throat on the way down, letting the alcohol get into your bloodstream faster to get you drunk as fast as possible.”

“Sounds stupid.”

He opens the bottle and offers it to me.

I need stupid right now.

Tyler laughs as I take a take a huge gulp until my eyes are burning and I’m coughing like crazy.

We pass the bottle around until it’s gone down a couple of inches and I’m feeling a little buzzed. I like it up here in his treehouse away from the party.

“Congratulations,” he says, smiling at me. “You’re the first girl I’ve ever brought up here.”

I turn to him in surprise. A hot guy like him should have had a line-up of girls waiting to come in here. “You never got any action up here?”

His eyes fall to where the porn magazine is hidden under the couch cushion. “Not with anyone else.”

“Remind me not to come up here with a black light,” I say, giggling.

He laughs. “I always wanted to have a girl up here.”

“I’m your wife,” I say, grinning at him. “Wives don’t count. Plus, I’m not about to break your treehouse cold streak, so don’t get any ideas. The only things that should be having sex in trees are birds and squirrels.”

“And your parents,” he says.

I burst out laughing. “My parents too.”

“It’s okay,” he says, chuckling as he takes a sip from the bottle. “I left our ball gag at home anyway.”

“What was that?” I ask, thinking back in horror at the ball gag strapped to his mouth in our lovely wedding photo. “Are you into that kind of BDSM stuff? Did we do that?”

“I don’t know what we did,” he says, handing me the bottle. Our fingers touch as he hands it over. With every pass of the Goldslick, our hands linger a little longer on each other. “I’ve never seen a ball gag in real life before.”

“Where the hell did we get that?” I try hard to remember, but I can’t. The memories from that night are gone for good. That’s probably a good thing.

He just shrugs.

“Want any more?” I ask, offering him the bottle.

He shakes his head as he clutches his stomach. “I’m good. I think I drank an ounce of gold already.”

We relax on the couch, enjoying the silence and the warm breeze wafting in through the open windows. I can hear the muted sounds of the party down below and take a breath of relief when I no longer hear my father’s didgeridoo playing. My initial relief turns to panic when I realize that the silence means he’s probably talking to people.

I close my eyes and swallow hard as I pretend that all of this isn’t happening. This is all too surreal. I slept with this guy beside me. I don’t do that kind of stuff.

One-night stands… They’re not me. At all.

But the initial embarrassment and confusion are starting to wash away with every look he gives me. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m starting to feel curiosity and yearning now.

I’m curious about what happened, how it happened, how it felt.

And I’m yearning to experience it again.

I saw this man naked, and as sexy and stylish as his suits are, I can’t help remembering what he looks like underneath that soft fitted fabric.

Lately, when I find myself staring blankly out the window and before I can get a handle on my brain, his long cock slides into my mind, penetrating my thoughts.

If I’m being honest with myself, I’m tempted. But being dishonest is easier. I hate him. He’s too privileged, he’s too cocky, he’s too goddamned beautiful.

But that dick…

I’m not that kind of girl. Really, I’m not. But when a rich, sexy, beautiful man makes it crystal clear that he wants to fuck you, even the straightest of straight girls can get a little curved around the edges.

And Tyler has made that strikingly clear. If I want his big dick, it’s all mine.

I swallow hard, pushing down the naughty thoughts creeping up into my mind. I blame the Goldslick Vodka. Apparently, the gold flakes missed my throat and sliced open my horny center instead.

“We should get back down to the party,” I say. I close my eyes, regretting it the minute it slides past my lips. “They’re going to wonder where we went.”

Tyler shrugs. “Let them wonder.”

My cheeks start to heat up. “We’re newlyweds in their eyes. They’re going to think we’re…” I can’t say the dirty words in front of him.

“What?” he asks, turning to me with a grin.

“You know…”

“Playing Monopoly?” he asks with a smirk on his frustratingly sexy lips. “Yahtzee? Twister?”

“That’s closer,” I say with a chuckle.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks at me. “Naked Twister?”

I look away. I just wish he wasn’t so hot. This would all be so much easier if he didn’t look like he should be starring in the next Magic Mike movie.

He leans a little closer, and a whiff of his rich cologne has my head swimming. “I bet you would be really good at naked Twister,” he whispers in a raspy voice.

“I would be,” I say, feeling my heart jump into fifth gear. “But you’ll never find out.”

“Right hand, thigh,” he says, placing his strong hand on my thigh. Warm shivers explode through my body, sending up goosebumps on every inch of my skin. Even the soles of my feet have goosebumps from this guy.

My chest is fluttering, and my head is as light as a helium balloon, but I take a deep breath and focus. This ‘relationship’ is already as complicated as Ikea instructions. We don’t need to throw in sex to make it even worse.

“Tyler,” I warn as he inches even closer.

My body is betraying me. My legs part, wanting his hand to slide down between them. Arousal courses through my body, making this even more difficult.

I’m getting wetter with every hard breath that I take.

His eyes are locked on my lips as he leans in.

My mouth waters as my breathing stops. He’s my husband, and I’m his wife. I have the pineapple-covered marriage certificate to prove it. I should be able to kiss my husband if I want to. Right? Right???

“Left hand, waist,” he whispers as he slides his hand over my waist, making my pussy throb.

My lips part, wanting to tell him to back off but the soft tickle of his breath on my lips has me forgetting what I want to say.

“Lips, lips,” he whispers.

I jerk my head away at the last second. As much as I want to feel his soft lips on mine, I know it’s a bad idea. We already did that once, and look where it got me.

“Right fist, nose,” I say, clenching my hand into a fist and holding it up as a warning.

He laughs it off, but he looks disappointed as he moves back from my personal space. I’m immediately struck with a strong sense of loss now that his hands are off of me.

It’s for the best, Dahlia. He’s your boss.

I take a mental cold shower, picturing abandoned puppies, port-a-potties after a weekend tournament, pink-eye, long toenails, turkey bacon.

Ah, that’s better.

This whole situation is going to take pinpoint precision to pull off. We have to pretend that we’re married in front of everyone we know, we have to get Tyler’s dad to give him the promotion, and we have to save the factory from getting shut down.

The stakes are high, the whole town of Summerland and everyone in it is on the line, and it would be just plain irresponsible to complicate things with kissing, or sex.

As tempting as it is, it’s just a mess that nobody needs right now.

“Let’s go back down,” I say, smoothing out my dress as I get up.

Tyler nods, looking disappointed as I head to the ladder.

He takes the bottle of alcohol and hides it behind the couch, probably out of habit from his teenage years. I take a quick glance at his ass as he bends over.

Bloody noses, squished cockroaches, old men eating apple sauce.

Nothing is stopping the dirty thoughts rushing forward, so I just turn away and climb down the ladder.

“Thanks for the break,” I say when we’re back on the perfectly manicured lawn. “I needed it.”

“Anytime,” he says, smiling at me. “You know where it is if you need it again. Normally there are no girls allowed, but you have boobs, so I’ll bend the clubhouse rules just for you.”

“I’m honored,” I say, smiling as my cheeks heat up. Hearing him talk about my boobs is making me blush even more than usual.

We stand there awkwardly, so many unsaid words hanging between us. “I should go check on my parents,” I say, looking back in the direction of the party. “Make sure they’re not trying to sell any of the guests some weed.”

Tyler laughs as he steps forward, sliding his hand on my lower back as we start walking. His hand feels good there, so I pretend not to notice.

“Shit,” Tyler curses under his breath when he sees his cousin Nick approaching.

Don’t stare at his eyebrows. Don’t stare at his eyebrows.

“I’m taking off, cuz,” he says, spinning an unlit cigar between his fingers. “This was cute, but I’m heading to a real party now.”

Tyler puffs out his chest as his eyes narrow on Nick. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Nick turns to me and smiles. “It was nice to meet you, Dahlia. When you come to your senses and leave this mutt, come see me.”

I try to keep my eyes on his and not on the slow-moving bushy caterpillars that he calls eyebrows crawling on his face.

“It was nice to meet you too, Nick,” I say, gritting my teeth. “And don’t worry, we’ll be sure to have a job for a cousin of Tyler’s in the company once we take it over.”

He laughs, jerking his head back in surprise. “You two take it over? That’s cute, but I think you two would be better suited to taking over your father’s tie-dye shirt empire. Leave McMillan Worldwide to me.”

Tyler steps forward, looking like he’s about to knock him out. “Don’t talk about my wife’s parents that way,” he snaps in a tight voice. Possession is thick in the way he calls me his wife.

My skin is tingling as I watch him defend my honor. I want to break them up before the fists start flying, but I also desperately want to see that happen.

Nick cracks first. “I was just kidding,” he says, laughing it off. “It’s just a little playful competition.”

“There’s nothing playful about laying off fifteen hundred and ninety-two employees,” I say, butting in.

Nick locks his eyes on me and scowls. “fifteen hundred and ninety-three,” he corrects. The threat is clear. I’ll be getting one of those pink slips if Nick gets the company.

“What was that?” Tyler rushes forward and grabs Nick by his collar, slamming him up against the tree.

A smile creeps across my face as I see Nick squirming nervously under Tyler’s heated stare.

“Tyler!” a voice snaps from behind me. I spin around with my guilty heart pounding. “Let Nicholas go!”

Tyler releases his cousin when he sees his father charging over like an angry bull with Kirsten following close behind him. He takes a deep breath as Nick chuckles, slapping his back playfully.

“Thanks for the party, Auntie Kirsten and Uncle Mack,” he says, pouring on the charm. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to the office to take care of something.”

Tyler’s parents say goodbye to Nick and then thankfully he leaves.

“What are you doing?” Mack asks his son, looking exasperated. “You’re picking a fight with family?”

I’m about to butt in and help him out when Kirsten wraps her arm around mine, pulling me back to the party. I reluctantly go as I try to listen in on their conversation.

“You have to control your temper,” Mack says, sounding disappointed. “How can I trust you to take over an international corporation if you can’t get through a family party without knocking your cousin’s head off?”

I gulp as Kirsten drags me out of earshot. If we’re going to be a team, we have to work better than what we’re doing. We have to play smart if we’re going to outplay the evil caterpillar whisperer Nick.

“We were looking everywhere for you two,” Kirsten says, squeezing my arm.

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to get back on her good side. “There were so many people, and I just got overwhelmed. Tyler took me away for a little break.”

I look back over my shoulder where Tyler and his father are having a heated conversation.

“I hope I didn’t get him into trouble,” I say, wishing I could hear what they were saying. “Nick was being a bit of a jerk, and Tyler stepped in to save me.”

Kirsten waves her hand dismissively. “Those two have been at it since they were in diapers. One day they fought over a rattle, and they haven’t stopped since.”

We continue toward the pool where the party is happening, and I look around for my parents with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Do you know where my parents are?”

Kirsten bites her bottom lip nervously. “I’m not sure…”

“Kirsten,” I say, tilting my head as I stare at her.

She looks uncomfortable as she looks around the yard. “I believe they were taking a nap in the hammock over there.”

A group of teenagers are giggling near the hammock. One of the braver guys is holding up his phone, videotaping my parents doing I-don’t-want-to-know-what.

“I’m sorry about them,” I say, feeling my neck get hot with embarrassment. “They shouldn’t be allowed out in public.”

Kirsten wraps her arm around me and pulls me into her. “They may be a little rough around the edges,” she says with a warm smile.

“They’re like broken glass around the edges,” I say, laughing.

“But they brought you into the world,” she says, smiling at me, “so I’m eternally grateful to them.”

I drop my eyes to the grass as a thickness settles in my throat.

“I’ve never seen my son so taken with a girl,” she says, grinning at me. “You’re the first girl he’s ever introduced us to.”

My heart flutters at her words. If this was real, it would be a huge compliment, but it’s not real. None of this is real. I have to remember that no matter how real it feels.

“I’m so happy you’re part of our family now,” she says with her eyes sparkling. It’s so genuine and real that the guilt weighing down on me feels heavier than ever. “I’ve always wanted a daughter, and I can already tell that we’re going to be really close.”

I cringe as she pulls me in for a warm hug.

I’m the worst person alive.