How to Fake Date Your Grumpy Boss (How to Rom-com #1)

by Camilla Evergreen

Second, I become financially stable in this economy before I’m thirty—baffling as they seem to not be fans of witchcraft, and only magic could accomplish this.

Once I’m ready to flee with extra flee out of here, I plug the key into the ignition and start up, realizing a moment too late I’ve already said my thank you for your time line and now all I can think about is an I’m sorry for slamming into your mouth with mine, and also potentially giving you a view of my underwear and also sitting on your chest.

“While we’re being open with one another, this interview is a ruse. You’re my only choice.”

The calculation and sheer feral heat freeze me in place. When he’s looking at me like that, I feel the compulsive need to reiterate that I’m not asking for us to do anything that is only done in private.

He lifts his hands, steepling them before his lips—the lips. That I’ve touched with mine and stuff.

His eyes close. “You have a point. So…” His eyes open. “…in other words…you’re asking me out?” The man smiles.

This man should not be allowed to joke. He wets his lips. He shouldn’t be allowed to do that either.

“If you’re okay with it, we can book trope our way out.” Book trope our way out. There’s a line I haven’t heard before. Being a happy little bookworm, it’s actually almost like he’s speaking my native tongue.

“About winter break, in December?” “Of…next year?” he asks, and there isn’t a how dare you suggest I stay with you that long. There’s actually a touch of…something else…in his gaze, but I’m probably imagining it. I reel back a little. “What? No. This year. In a couple months.” Lips parted, he stares at me for several long moments.

“I don’t think it’s a red flag,” he says. “I think you’re incredible.”

Levi: I’ve seen what you consider appropriate for an interview. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself in whatever you’d deem acceptable for a date.

Levi: I’m partial to “kitten.”

He’s a complete adult. I’m a sheltered imposter attempting to play adult with the adultier adults.

He has the decency to look a little nervous as he rubs his neck and asks, “Are you Rose Briars?” He then has the indecency to drag his gaze down my body, as though he’s scanning for proof of the horrible rumors. Levi’s arm settles around me like a rock, pulling me squarely against the side of his hard body. More of a growl settles into the singular word this time. “No.” The stranger’s face pales. The guy stammers for a couple seconds, then apologizes, and marches away. When I glance up to find Levi’s face, his eyes are rolling, and it occurs to me that I’ve actually caused some pretty substantial problems for him. Yet he’s still kind of amazing enough to take me to a bookstore on a date. That’s just… Honestly, boyfriend goals. Let’s be real. Tell me that’s not perfect boyfriend goals.

Humor gleams in Levi’s eye, and he doesn’t answer my question. “Rose, are you smelling that book?” My cheeks heat, and I yank it away. “Absolutely I am definitely probably sort of not but kind of!” He puts his copy down and covers his mouth. “Did you just have a stroke?” I soak in a breath and look at the bar code for the price—and also so I don’t focus too much on the fact I think Levi Danner is trying not to laugh at me while light dances in his deep blue eyes. Yikes. Pricey. Can I afford this? I’ve not gotten my first deposit from working for this man yet. But I will soon. “You are incredibly rude.” He lowers his head near my ear, whispering like a devil on my shoulder, “Would you like me to buy it for you? So you can commit your illicit acts in private?”

his smug lips—his smug lips that mine have touched.

“You may buy me dinner later. If you start buying me pretty books, we’re going to have a huge problem.”

Casually, he places his hand against my waist, and I suspect that this is the moment where he’s going to do something for the camera like in the fake dating books I’ve read, but instead, he just tucks me away, safely out of the line of the shot in a corner of romance books. Resting his elbow on a shelf, he cages me in there, plucks another novel, and flips through the pages. I have never been more attracted to a man in my life. Not that I’ve actually had any opportunities to be. But…still.

Offering me a hand, he helps me out of the low sports car, then this man…this man…asks, “Would you like to bring your fantasy novel, so you can read while the food is being made?”

Tenderly, Levi shakes his head and curls a finger beneath my chin to close my parted lips. Then, without breaking a sweat, he sweeps into the car and gets my book. “Here you go, kitten.” My heart jumps out of my chest, and that breaks the spell. “Don’t you dare.” “I told you I was partial.”

Narrowing my eyes with determination the moment he sits down, I remove my phone from my pocket—because in case I neglected to mention, the man got me a dress with pockets. Rose: Seriously. Please tone down the flirting. The second after I hit send, the coat around me sounds with a couple little typewriter clicks—the same ringtone as mine. Levi holds out his hand. “Sorry. I think my girlfriend just texted.” He’s going to be the death of me. Pulling out his phone, I accidentally wake up the screen and discover that he has just about three million notifications—to an extent that my text isn’t even the most recent one. However, it is the only one that made any noise. His fingers brush mine as he takes his phone, unlocks it, and checks his messages. Moments pass before I get a reply, and let it be known that if the whole billionaire thing falls through, Levi Danner has a thriving career as a comedian to look forward to… Levi: What flirting?

He wrote back, You’re such a professional, kitten. And I imagined him purring the words, because that was the vibe his Sent from my iPhone email gave me.

Levi: Kitten. I blink at the top of my screen when the new text comes in, then I frown, rolling my eyes. I never gave my consent about wanting that stupid nickname to be permanent. I’ll probably die if he says it in front of anyone I know. And yet because I flubbed up and let it be known that I don’t actually hate it (come on, it’s kind of adorable), I’m stuck with it. I must retaliate. Rose: Yes, puppy?

“Whatever gets under your skin, kitten.” My breath catches, but I push through it. I should be used to the way he is with his words at this point. I have listened to over a choppy hour of him rambling about his childhood, after all. Levi Danner is genuine, and that’s just the truth of it. “Behave yourself, Levi.” “Did my nickname not stick?” “Do you really want it to?” “To quote my girlfriend, it’s not that I don’t like it.” I wet my lips and shift my feet, tugging on the hem of my Slenderman Guy coat. I’m alone. He’s alone. There’s no reason for him to be saying stuff like that with that tone—except for the fact he thinks he’s funny. “It occurs to me you told me to sit and stay at the bookstore. It seems like I had this nickname coming.” “You sure did, puppy.” My heart skips a beat as though it is questioning my own audacity.

“Do you always do what guys tell you to?” he asks. “Keep those statements up, and I’ll grow immune.” He murmurs, “Anything but that, kitten. Please.”

Levi slams the electronic signature pad down, and both the delivery guy and I jump. The guy’s head swivels toward Levi’s outright scowl, and I’ve never seen that expression on his face before. It’s chilling. His deep blue eyes have gone so dark they look black. “I don’t think I gave you permission to talk to my girlfriend like that.” Levi’s deep voice rumbles with the edge of a growl—vicious and untamed. Threatening with dark promise.

“Thank you for dinner,” I tell him. “I hope you enjoy it. They don’t actually serve mozzarella sticks, but I bribed them into making some.” Of course he did. “You’re a monster, puppy.” “Only on your behalf, kitten, even when it gets me in trouble.” Stupid heat in my chest. Stupid butterflies in my stomach. I could have sworn he said we were too old to get in trouble. Yet here we are…

Levi sets his laptop aside and rises, peering down at me biting my lip and trying not to descend into another fit. Gently, he tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear and sighs. “You’re quite delirious, kitten. Maybe you should lie down for a bit. I can’t send you to class like this.”

His eyes close, and his lips hook up in the corners, humming with a desperate wish to laugh. “Why do you do that?” I ask. “What?” he murmurs. “Why don’t you just laugh if you want to laugh? Am I unworthy of the satisfaction?”

“Can I teach you how to smile and laugh before Christmas?” I murmur as my eyelids fall closed.

Judge books by their covers; that’s what they’re made for. The same cannot be said about people.

Somehow, the older man notices I’m there, watching him, and he adds a couple adjectives to twit of a girlfriend when he looks right at me. The man’s mouth opens again, but at that point, Levi is out of his office, noticing me, letting his eyes widen, and shutting the man up before he can get anything else spat my way. “Say another word to her, and I’ll—” Curses. “—do worse than you can—” Curses. “—imagine. Do you understand me? Forget not being able to find another job within Leopard’s reach—you’ll be lucky if I let you live on the streets within this state.” My chest tightens, and a breath sticks there. I’ve heard Levi curse before, but not like that, not while he’s mad, not at someone.

The only thing my stupid brain wonders is if I should cross out my second cookie.

Levi is a sweetheart. Who only on very rare (every other daily) occasions makes an employee cry (unintentionally). … (Most of the time.)

It’s weird that the only guys I’ve known and kind of liked have both given me coats. Is that normal? Do guys just walk around giving girls really expensive coats, whether they know them well or not?

“Come here, kitten.” I shiver for a different reason, and my feet take control, moving me in, settling me in that cozy nook. He smells good. Clean. Masculine. I wonder what laundry detergent he uses, because it’s very fresh…and almost familiar. Maybe someone else I used to know used the same kind. His arm wraps around me, and I’m warm.

“The people looking after my kids didn’t understand when I told them they were picky eaters.” The grumble of pure annoyance doesn’t mute the words I just heard. My head jerks up off his chest, and I blurt, “Kids? You have children?” He nods, the motion curt. “Their mother left them shortly after they were born. Told me to take care of them. Didn’t even let me answer.”

Levi presses on the brake with a suddenness that sends me jerking slightly forward, then he turns to me, his black eyes wild in the night gleam. “Wait. No.” He laughs, claps his hand to his mouth to stop himself, then swipes his fingers back up through his hair. “Oh. Wow.” He curses, taking a breath and easing the car forward. “I have cats, kitten. Cats. Hence my partiality to your nickname.” I hit him in the shoulder. He stamps out another laugh before it can fully take hold. “You thought I had actual human children.” His chest shakes. “And I just conveniently forgot to tell you about them.”

For the heck of it, I send the picture of the bug to Kitten and try not to make it mean anything when I see I’m the only person listed in his favorites.

Then, with all the grace of an elephant, he says, “Your parents think they’re going to catch me making love to you.”

He searches my eyes for a few moments, just long enough for his smile to smooth away. “Tell me about him sometime?” I look away. “Who him? You already know there aren’t any hims.” “Lying to me would be new for us.” The way he says us like there’s an us makes me tingle, and I clasp my hands together in front of myself.

I’m only somewhat aware he’s lying on his side, back to the window, watching me with those blue eyes that look black. I don’t imagine he’s smiling. At the least, no smile rests in his voice. “Are you going to be able to get any sleep tonight, kitten?” I tense. What if he calls me kitten in front of my parents? What if they know it’s not usually an innocent nickname? I didn’t “brief” him on anything past telling him to not be evil but also not be liked. So lost in my thoughts, I forget to answer. Levi moves, and my heart jumps into my throat. His finger touches my bicep, and my heart thunders where it’s stuck in my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut, as though he’s going to lose control and hurt me like my parents promise men they don’t approve of want to. His touch delicately traces down, leaving a laser line of heat. Levi finds my hand, my clenched fist, and he loosens it, pulling it to the middle of the bed. He works his fingers against my palm then threads them with mine.

My voice cracks. It’s barely a brush of words from a timid and unsure part of me, and it doesn’t even make much sense. “Do…you need a hug?” Levi curses. “Yes.” My heart explodes, but the tension vanishes as Levi drags me into him. His hard body coils around me, strong arms wrapping me up so suddenly it steals my breath before it sends me shooting up toward air. I squeak as I break through the surface and discover fresh air smells clean and masculine. Woodsy. With hints of summer rain. At night. “Shh.” He exhales the touch of a laugh, then murmurs a curse in my ear as he combs his fingers through my hair. “Quiet, kitten. You’ll get me in trouble.” So much trouble. I am in so much trouble. This feels so right. Feelings are unreliable. Levi’s so warm. His heartbeat is so steady. He smells so nice. This feels right. It can’t be right. His breath flows against the top of my head in time with how his chest moves. The motions of his body lace with mine. Our hearts. Our breaths. I hold him, wrapping my arms around his broad chest. He’s so big. His mouth opens against the top of my head, his lips skimming in my hair. “That’s my girl.” I curse inside the cage of my skull. Any moment now, the door will whip open. It’ll be all police sirens and screaming. Tears. Warnings. Dragging me away for my own good. I knew its on top of how dare yous. But for this second, I can breathe.

Oh my word. Embarrassment grips my heart in an iron fist, and I try to get up—easier said than done when I’m maybe, kind of, sorta straddling his thigh.

He doesn’t smile, but the corners of his mouth soften before the deep thrum of his morning voice coils around my flesh. “Morning, kitten.”

Maybe let’s not focus on his mouth, Rose.

Levi’s head pops over the side, his perfectly mussed bed head laying in soft, dark waves across his forehead. “Are you okay, kitten?” he asks, all concern, like it’s not his fault. His eyes flick down my body, widen, and rip away. I follow where he looked and discover my stomach bared to him.

Even though his face doesn’t change expressions, I think he’s joking with me. “Is sincerely arrogant rich guy the exact terminology you’d like me to use when we get to that point in your autobiography?” He smiles. Heck, I love that. Making him smile, even slightly. I love it.

Levi’s arms. All night. Sleeping in the same building as a male—according to what I’d been taught—is dangerous. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well.

Levi curses, and as I twist my whimpering self, I catch sight of him with his hand outstretched and his fist clenched, like his stupid blindness stopped him from catching me.