Fake Wife Excerpt “We’re going to be married, Teagan. Don’t you think it is your business to know what your future husband is doing, and where he is?” She has a small carrot halfway to her mouth and freezes, looking up at me through her lashes at my words. “We’re . . . we’re not . . . it’s different for us.” “Is it?” A blush heats her cheek, turns brighter than the peach-colored top she has on. And when she bends over, I see a hint of a matching colored bra. Fucking hell. I want to tear her clothes off, throw her on the counter, and fuck her until she’s screaming her head off, and she’s casually chomping on fresh veggies. Christ. “Teagan,” I say, my voice commanding. “Are you telling me you don’t care what I do? Where I go? Who I’m with?” I’m prodding. Bordering on turning into the asshole she’s seen too many times, something truly uncharacteristic of me, but damn if I don’t want a reaction from her. And I do. Her jaw clenches and her shoulders pull tight. She bites a carrot, chewing it like it’s hard as nails. “What do you want me…