The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,52

you can show me around your office and tell me a bit about what an engineer does.”

“Great! Can you be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes?”

“Sure thing. Let me take Megan a cup of coffee first.”

Bart gave him a look Josh couldn’t name. “She’s got you waiting on her, huh?”

If Megan’s father was hinting that she was in any way like her mother, he planned to set the record straight. Megan didn’t deserve that.

“If you’re suggesting she’s calling the shots in our relationship, I think we both know that Megan’s not that kind of woman. I do things for her, and she does things for me.” Like he got her coffee, and she was going to tell her grandmother she couldn’t draw him in the nude, but her father didn’t need to know about that. “She’s a wonderful woman, and I’m damned lucky to have her.” And he knew it was true—any man who had his wits about him would be lucky to have Megan.

Bart looked him in the eye. “Yes, I can see that. I’m sorry if I implied something different.”

Josh nodded and poured two cups of coffee and added creamer to both before going back upstairs. The shower was still running, and he had no idea how long Megan would be, so he cautiously opened the bathroom door, grateful there was a curtain to hide her. He wasn’t sure how much control he’d have if she were naked and as willing and eager as last night.

He set the cup on the counter. “Megan?” he called softly.

She shrieked in surprise. “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m going to work with your dad, and I wanted to tell you in case you’re still in the shower when we leave.”

Her head appeared at the edge of the curtain while she held onto it to keep herself hidden. “You’re doing what?”

“I’m going to work with your dad.”

“Why would you do that?”

“So he can get to know his son-in-law better.”

A cautious look covered her face. “But we’re breaking up today.”

He couldn’t make too big a deal of this or she’d get suspicious. “Yeah, but don’t you think we should do it in front of a crowd? Doesn’t your mom have a family dinner planned for tonight? That would be the perfect time.”

She sucked in her bottom lip, looking lost in thought. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be better if you stayed here and broke up with me this morning? Then Mom will have more time to call it all off.”

“Do you honestly think your mother will let me break up with you? She’d be more likely to drug me to get me to comply, and after last night’s performance, maybe handcuff me for good measure. And if your grandmother is around as a witness, she’ll strip me naked and draw me in my drugged state. And I don’t even want to go into what she’ll do with the handcuffs.” He shuddered. “We need witnesses and lots of them.”

She released a huff. “Damn it. You’re right.”

He grinned. “I brought your coffee, but I forgot to ask how you took it. You know, your father pretty much called me pussy-whipped for getting it for you. I gave him a mini-lecture about how you weren’t that kind of woman, so it didn’t seem like the appropriate time to mention this was our first morning together.”

She fought a grin. He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was when she beamed like that. It was obvious that her asshat ex had been clueless. “I take creamer.”

His grin spread. “Then it’s your lucky day. I added creamer. Now I better get going. I want to make a good impression on your dad.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “You have to make a bad one! Otherwise, it’ll look like our breakup came out of nowhere.”

“Okay. I’ll try my best to be the biggest asshole possible.”

“Good.”

He continued to watch her, not wanting to leave her yet.

Her grin spread. “Shouldn’t you be going?”

“Yeah.”

She laughed. “Have a good day, dear.”

“Have fun with Knickers.”

She grimaced. “You definitely got the better deal.” Then her face disappeared behind the curtain.

Josh headed downstairs to meet Bart Vandemeer, feeling like he was a prisoner on his way to the gallows. This was exactly what he wanted, so why did it feel so wrong?

Chapter Twelve

When Megan went downstairs, Megan’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and eating a piece of dry toast while looking over several papers. That had been Nicole Westminster Vandemeer’s breakfast