Billionaire Fake Husband

A Grumpy Sunshine, Single Dad, Age Gap Small Town Romance

I asked a billionaire to marry me. He didn't blink.

Cal Beaumont is forty-four. Scarred knuckles. Gray at one temple. A voice that ends conversations.

He's raising a six-year-old alone in a building that's falling into the ocean, and in eight weeks a hearing officer decides whether his son keeps it.

I'm thirteen years younger. I'm on his payroll.

I have forty dollars, a dead car, and a man eighty miles back who still thinks I belong to him.

Cal needs a wife on paper. I need a door nobody can take off its hinges.

Three rules. Twelve months. Separate rooms. No touching unless somebody's watching.

He signed them.

Then he kissed me in front of a judge. Hand on my jaw. Stamp still coming down.

Three seconds. Only the first one was for the judge.

That's one rule down. I wrote the other two, and I'm running out of reasons to keep them.