Faux Beau's Baby Surprise

Listen he is a great guy. I get it, on paper he’s perfect. Handsome, smart, and well off. Totally ‘the one’ material…for someone else. To me he’s just Drew, one of my best friends, and only a friend.

My focus has always been on raising my sisters, love was never something I had time for. But now that they are all grown and on their own I admit I’m feeling like an empty nester. A 30 something, never been married or had children of my own, empty nester. That sounds way worse than it is. I’m happy with my life, well at least I was until I took Drew as my plus one to my sister’s wedding and had to pretend to be his girlfriend so his ex wouldn’t ruin the entire trip.

We may have taken our rouse a little too far, but I have to admit being wrapped up in the sheets with him was better than I ever could have imagined. Okay, so maybe I’ve had a bit of a crush on him before this, but I had it under control. Everything was fine until his tasty lips touched mine.

When his ex exposes some secrets with the proof to back it up I’m left not knowing who to believe.
Or if I should reveal a little secret of my own.

Faux Beau's Baby Surprise is a contemporary billionaire friends-to-lovers romance that will make your heart skip a beat. No Cheating and Happily Ever After Guaranteed!

“You’re a member of the Hitchins and Solace party, ma’am?” 

I turn to the man behind the front desk. 

Ma’am? I’m only thirty. Do I look like a
ma’am? “Yes, I am.” 

The man smiles. “Let me get you checked in, then. Could I have your
name?” 

I lean my arms on the desk. “Dana Solace.” 

He types some and then grins. “Dana Solace and Drew Young. Yes, I
have you right here.” 

I
frown. “Wait, I–”

“Is he with you now?” he asks. 

I
blink. “Um, no, he’s–”

“Would you like me to save a key here for him or just send him to
meet you at your bungalow.” 

I shake my head. 

Wait a second. Rewind. “I’m sorry, the room should just be for Dana Solace.” 

The desk manager clutches his heart. “Is he no longer attending?” 

“No, no. It’s just we–we should have separate bungalows.” 

“Separate?” 

I nod. “Yes, separate.” 

“You did not come together?” 

“We are–he’s–we’re coming together, but–” Dana, seriously? Coming? “I mean, he’s my plus one, but we aren’t together.”

The desk manager pouts his lips. Shit, he doesn’t get it. 

“What I mean is…Drew Young is my guest. But he’s not my romantic
guest. He’s a friend. Coming as my date. You know?” 

Realization bursts across the man’s face. “Oh! You’re not lovers,
then?” 

Lovers?! This has got to be some sort of
Candid Camera Punk’d bullshit! “No, we’re not.” 

“Well, I’m afraid I have you down as lovers.” 

“Is that what it says on your computer?” I gape. 

“Forgive me, you are on the same reservation. That’s all.” 

I take a deep breath. I wonder who is responsible for this. Is this
one of my sister’s sick version of a joke? Hunter trying to play matchmaker? Or
is this a genuine fuckup that just couldn’t be helped? I look in the direction
Gillian, Axel, and Stella left. They’re a mere memory at this point, the
archway toward the dock taunting me. Best not to bother them. 

I can stomach this, even if it’s weird. Even if it shouldn’t be
happening. This isn’t my wedding. I’m not going to make a problem of something
that’s not. Because Drew and I staying in a room together…that’s not a problem.
Right? 

“Yes, of course, that’s fine,” I say, waving my hands in front of my
face. 

“Oh, good,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I was nervous that your
visit was already dissatisfactory.” 

I smile. “No, not a chance. Thank you for your attentiveness,
though.” 

The man hands me a keycard and explains my bags have already been
taken to the room. Then, he hands me a laminated itinerary. “This is the
itinerary for the wedding week. I hope you have a pleasant stay. If you need
anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.” 

I thank him and  start to walk away. But I’d be remiss not to ask. “Just in case, you
don’t have any other bungalows available do you?” 

The man pouts out his lower lip. “I’m afraid not.” 

Of course not. I
shrug. “Had to ask.” Then I walk (no, run) through the archway and down the dock
to bungalow twenty-eight. The thing sure looks big enough for two people. We
can probably make this work. 

I scan the card, open the door, and feel my stomach drop when I see
the big bed in the middle of the room, draped with a mosquito net across from a
set of glass doors that open onto a personal-sized pool and then the wide
expanse of the Indian Ocean. 

The view and amenities don’t matter, though, because I’m concerned
with one and only thing. 

There is one bed. And unless I’m an asshole and make Drew sleep on
the couch that is clearly not long enough to fit him, we’re going to have to
share it. 

This
is going to be a long couple of weeks.