But He's My Fake Fiancé (But He's a Carter Brother #3)

by Annah Conwell

The old man–still yet to give me his name–hobbles off with a tip of his newsboy cap. Sloane gives him a polite smile, curiosity shining in her eyes. “We play chess together whenever I have time to spare,” I explain to her. “He’s the only real competition I’ve come across.” Her eyebrows raise. “That’s rather cocky of you.” I cross my arms and lean against a nearby shelf. “I know my abilities.” “Is that so?” Her hazel eyes rove over me, perusing in a way that doesn’t seem like someone in a relationship would. Interesting. “I’ve been called a prodigy once or twice.” Her lips quirk up at the edges like she’s holding in a smile. “Funny, I’ve been called the same quite a few times after matches.” Her tone borders on flirty, and a thrill rushes through me. I shouldn’t feel this way, not without confirming my suspicion that she’s no longer in a relationship. But she’s beautiful, intelligent, and plays my favorite game. “You play?” “Only when there’s someone worthy of playing.” I gesture to the board. “Care to put both of our words to the test, Miss Rose?” She looks at the board, then back at me. “Maybe you misheard me … I only play worthy opponents.” I place a hand on my chest. “Ouch. I would have worn a bulletproof vest if I'd known I’d be shot in the heart today.”