Too Goode to be True (Love Hashtagged #2) (3 page)

Brad fully expected Gwen to slap him and storm out. That didn’t stop him from praying to anyone listening that she'd go along with the improv. If he’d had any inkling Emily would drop Drea in his lap without warning this morning, he wouldn’t for a second have considered bringing Gwen—or any woman—back here.

Gwen could hate him after Emily left, though he hoped she forgave him. For now, the last thing he wanted was for his ex to have one more reason to give the judge about why she deserved full custody. The old man on the bench was already convinced Brad was a philandering jackass of a playboy, who didn’t deserve to have his daughter in his life.

When Gwen crawled forward on the bed, sheet held delicately in front of her of her, and offered her hand with an, “It’s nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you,” Brad wanted to kiss her.

Emily raised her brows and turned away, without shaking Gwen’s hand. “Funny I can't say the same. Word of advice, hon, as the lover scorned—if he's not telling people about you, there's a reason.”

Brad settled on the edge of the bed again. “And in this case, it’s because we’re keeping it between us and our closest friends. We don’t want to put up with the bullshit.”

Gwen scooted closer and rested her head on his shoulder. The woman was a scary-good actor. If they hadn't spent last night talking before the sex, he'd wonder if she put on a similar act with him. But her hesitation was different this morning than last night. It was subtle, but it was there.

“Tell her whatever you need, to keep her in your bed.” Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “I don't buy it.”

“It’s lovely to see you, too. Why are you here?” Brad didn’t try to hide his irritation.

“I need you to watch Drea today. I have an appointment.”

This was another thing he didn’t understand about Emily’s bid for full custody. She dropped Drea at his place more than half the time anyway. This morning was a perfect example. He didn’t have a babysitter for her—not expecting her to be there and all—and it was summer vacation, so he’d need to take her to work with him. He adored getting to spend time with her, but hated that she got jostled around so much, and his office wasn’t entertaining for a kid. Hell, he was bored there half the time. “You can leave her here and not worry about coming back,” he said.

If Emily glared any more intently, she wouldn’t be able to see. “Clever. I'll swing by tonight.” As she left, she slammed the door shut hard enough to send a tremor through the room.

“Fiancée?” Gwen kept her voice low. “So, next time you see her, which I assume will be tonight, you tell her what? That we broke up? It doesn’t really project whatever kind of responsible image you’re going for, with a bullshit story like that.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. I wasn’t exactly thinking about that at the time. It popped out. I don’t suppose you want to get married?” He was joking, but it would definitely go a long way toward convincing the judge he had a stable home life.

She gave him a tiny smile and climbed from the bed. He studied her naked body, lingering on every delicious curve. Her gaze met his, and she blushed. “I’m going to have to say
no
. And not just because this isn’t super a romantic atmosphere.” She tugged on her clothes. “I had great time last night, though.”

“Me too. Thanks for playing along with Emily.”

She sank into a nearby chair. “You promised to explain.”

“
Daddy.
” Drea’s voice cut through the house. “You’ve got cereal but not milk. Can I have some money to go get some?” Ten years old, and she was already more mature than her mother. Footsteps tapped up the stairs, and seconds later, there was a pounding on the bedroom door. “Dad?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he called. “And you’re not going to the store alone. Give me ten minutes, and we’ll go get breakfast.”

“Can I have waffles with strawberries and extra whipped cream?”

“Yes.” At least some of her was still his baby girl.

“And coffee?” Drea asked.

“No. Give me ten minutes, hon.”

“’Kay. I’m going to read. Hurry. I’m hungry.”

Gwen didn’t say a word during the exchange, but amusement danced on her face. When Drea’s footsteps faded down the stairs again, Gwen stood. “Cute kid.”

“She’s the love of my life.” Brad couldn’t keep the pride from his voice.

A shadow crossed her face but vanished again so quickly, he was sure he imagined it. “I’ll let you get back to her, then.” Her tone had gone flat. There was no joy or anger or irritation, or anything. “If there’s ever a next time, you can explain then.”

*

Gwen was grateful the diner was its usual, quiet, Wednesday self. It was why she’d wanted to meet up on a weeknight. Saturdays and Sundays were her busiest time. The night before that had her thoughts wandering every which way. The hookup had gone more smoothly than any date she’d ever been on. Maybe she should keep that in mind in the future. Walking into something expecting more was her problem. Finding out this morning how much she didn’t know about Brad—the ex-wife, the daughter—almost lessened the sting of walking away from him.

Except, it didn’t. She had more fun than she wanted to admit. She knew where he lived, and could still get a hold of him on the site, but maybe it was better she put some distance between them. She didn’t want
long-term
at this point in her life, and she definitely wasn’t looking for someone who came with his brand of baggage.

She was glad she got the chance to play along with his
fiancée
ruse. Not because she liked the idea of being engaged, but that woman had set her nerves on edge in a way few people could. Gwen met Drea on the way out. The girl was polite, friendly, and well-spoken. More like her father than her mother. And at least Brad hadn’t introduced her to Drea as his fiancée.

Gwen felt bad that he’d have to explain the entire thing away later, but the gimmick had been fun, and since she didn’t have to lie to his girl about it, no one would get hurt.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, dragging her back to the present. Her attorney. Not a call she should ignore. She swiped
Answer
and wandered away from the counter. “You’ve got good news for me?”

“Depends on how you define
good
.” Jim Wick was good at his job, but that meant he was really shitty at giving a direct answer.

It was why Gwen kept him on, though. “I define it as not having to surrender my inheritance to my brother.”

Jim’s sigh carried over the line in an electronic static. “Then this is only maybe a quarter to a half good news.”

“Meaning I’m going to lose fifty percent of my money?”

“More, if he wins and you have to pay everyone’s legal fees.”

She snarled at her phone. The front door chimed, and she looked up to see Jaycie walk in, portable game system dangling from the case attached to her wrist with a strap. She gave Jaycie a nod, and her best friend picked an empty stool at the counter.

“How does something like this make it so far? She left that money to me.” Gwen had already heard the reasons, but she couldn’t wrap her brain around them. Things like
people having to get married and have kids in order to get an inheritance
were bullshit fodder for books and movies. Not real life.

“Prosecution has witnesses who will go on record about how family oriented your grandmother was. They’ll back George’s story that she never intended you to have that money unless you had a family. If he convinces the arbitrator, the best I may be able to do is make sure you keep a portion of it. Enough to be the equivalent of taking care of yourself, but not other people.”

She hissed. “So, short of getting married, what do I have to do to convince the arbitrator?”

“This website of yours is a huge stumbling block. It makes it look like you’re not trying.”

“To get hitched?” She couldn’t keep the irritation from her voice. “I can’t believe you’re advising me to play along.”

“Your words, not mine.” His tone was clipped. “I’m telling you the way it is. In a conservative town like this… the odds don’t lean toward you, as a single woman who hates men.”

“I don’t—” she swallowed the argument before she got dragged into talking in circles. They’d already had variations on this conversation. If she lost her temper, it wouldn’t do her any good. “Find me a reasonable way to counter this. Honest, not involving me pretending, or I’ll find a different attorney.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Jim disconnected with little more formality.

Fury spilled through Gwen at the conversation. She grabbed two glasses, filled them with ice and sweet tea, and set one in front of Jaycie. “Sometimes I hate people.”

Jaycie’s smile was sympathetic. “I wish I had magical words of wisdom, to make this all better. Damon says he can refer you to someone if you want.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Damon was Ethan’s older brother. A competent corporate attorney, but he didn’t have the kind of expertise Gwen needed for this. At least he’d been up front about that. “It’s not about the money.”

“I know.”

Rehashing this with Jaycie didn’t change anything, but knowing Gwen had a sympathetic ear helped. The diner stood on its own financially, and Gwen had diversified her investments enough she could survive fine even if her brother took the full amount Grandmother left her. But it wasn’t his, and she was sick of caving to his whims. He’d rather get others to do his work for him, rather than put in the effort himself. He’d inherited the same amount as her, and his was already gone.

She nodded at Jaycie’s handheld. “Playing anything good this week?”

“It’s not bad. Re-release of a classic game. As eight-bit and nostalgic as I expected. In fact, I think that’ll be my headline.” Jaycie was a professional game reviewer. Since she worked freelance, her schedule was her own, and she dropped by to keep Gwen company several times a week, and snag a spot to game when she could. “I can’t do much more than listen, but you know I always will if you need to vent.”

“I know.” Gwen was grateful for that. She didn’t think either she or Jaycie would have made it to their late twenties with their sanity intact if it weren’t for the other. The door chimed once, and then three more times in rapid succession, as groups of people spilled in. “Lunch rush is starting. Are you good?”

“Until Ethan gets here. Then we probably want the same thing as always.”

“I’ll make sure it gets to you.” Gwen turned back to the customers and to helping her staff seat, serve, and ring people out for the next couple of hours, until the crowds thinned. Somewhere along the way, Ethan showed up and slid into the seat next to Jaycie. Gwen was too busy to hear the exchange, but she’d witnessed it often enough she knew how it went. He’d tease Jaycie about loving her games more than him, she’d joke back he didn’t vibrate when she got a high score, and he’d feed her a line like,
I do better than that.

Hearing the words repeat in her head made a pit settle in Gwen’s gut. Yeah, most guys definitely weren’t like that. Brad might be… She shook the thought aside. No. Brad had been great because he wasn’t meant to be more.

Her friends finished their meal, and Ethan gave Jaycie a long kiss before stopping at the register to pay. He’d made Gwen promise several months ago to stop refusing his money. Then he was gone, along with most of the other lunch customers, Jaycie was engrossed in her work, and Gwen’s mind was free to wander. Maybe she should go do paperwork. She sipped from her now watered-down tea and tried to summon the enthusiasm for the invoices waiting in her office.

The door chimed again, and she almost choked on her drink. The man walking toward her, ten year-old girl by his side, was as gorgeous as he had been last night. And that he’d found her set off every alarm in her head, despite how well she and he clicked.

He gave her a smile that didn’t match the one seared into her memory. This was apologetic. Almost humble? He whispered something in his daughter’s ear, then nudged her toward a stool a few down from Jaycie, before turning back to Gwen. “Gwen Debson?” His voice still sent chills down her spine.

“That’s me.” She wasn’t sure how else to respond. Nothing in her experience had a point of reference for why her one-night stand was in her place of business. How he knew her last name…

He handed her a business card. “You know who I am, but not quite what I do.”

She glanced at it. Well, he had said he went by his middle name. Then the company name caught her eye. Too Goode To Be True. Funny. His business sounded a lot like her website—2Gud2BTru-dot-com. She knew his company. The site sold cosplay-themed lingerie, and according to the card, he was CEO and owner. She shouldn’t be surprised he’d skimmed over how he paid for his condo, but that didn’t stop the revelation from setting her on edge. “What’s the J stand for?” She set the card aside and looked him in the eye.

“Parents with a love for old rock and a twisted sense of humor.”

She couldn’t help the groan that escaped. “Really? Johnny B. Goode?”

He shrugged. “In the flesh.”

She wanted to tease him, but she still had no idea why he was there. And she definitely wasn’t going to be playful in front of his kid. “So, Mr. Goode, what can I do for you?” The girl—Drea—had seen her leave the condo this morning. They’d been introduced. That didn’t mean Gwen was comfortable discussing her relationship, or lack thereof, in front of a ten-year-old. Which left Gwen unsure how much she could say.