B00Z637D2Y (R) by Marissa Clarke

slick surface of the desk to put it in line with the top of his blotter. “Because?”
    “Because I’m asking Claire to marry me tonight, and I need to go pick up the ring.”
    It shouldn’t have surprised him. Will and Claire had been inseparable since they met. Still, marriage . The paperweight missed its mark and tumbled to the floor with a thud.
    Will burst out laughing right as Chance strode in.
    “What’s going on?” He leaned over and scooped up the glass paperweight with their father’s initials etched in it. “Is Michael throwing things at you?” He placed it on the desk and slipped into the other wing chair.
    “No, I think he just lost his focus for a minute.” The dog yawned and snuggled against Will.
    Chance grinned. “What? Do you have another bag of dog shit in your pocket?”
    “No, he doesn’t,” Will answered with a matching dimpled grin—a hallmark of all three Anderson brothers. “But he has a woman living in his apartment.”
    Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was going to kill Jim for this.
    Chance’s jaw dropped. “Whoa.”
    “It’s not like that,” he explained, moving the paperweight to its designated spot, then rotating it so that the initials faced out, perpendicular to the edge of the desk. “It’s a business arrangement.”
    “Yeah, Claire and I had a business arrangement, too.” Will winked. “We still do. I like it when it’s her turn to be the boss.”
    Chance and Will fist bumped.
    “No, really,” Michael said, trying to keep his voice level and calm. “She’s preventing the dog from destroying my place at night.”
    His brothers exchanged looks, but said nothing. Obviously, they weren’t going to make this easy.
    “She was living next door to my apartment.”
    The dog jumped from Will’s lap to Chance’s. “Oh, she’s the house sitter who drove you nuts.”
    “Yes. But she got kicked out and she needed a place to live, so I told her she could live with me if she kept the dog under control at night.”
    “Because that’s exactly what your psychiatrist had in mind when she gave you the assignment.”
    Assignment. More like a prison sentence. “Technically, I’m well within the parameters of the doctor’s treatment. The dog is always under my care.”
    “So, you get a dog sitter out of it and she gets a place to live? What else does she get?” Will asked.
    “I have a better question. What else do you get, big brother?” Chance asked with a laugh. “What else is she keeping under control?”
    His answer was a little too loud. “Nothing.”
    Will straightened in his chair. “For how long?”
    “Until after the wedding.”
    His brothers exchanged glances.
    “Her friend’s wedding.”
    “Wait. Back it up,” Will said. “None of this makes sense. I need context.”
    Michael stood and pretended to thumb through files on a shelf in the corner. He gave them the short version.
    Will arched an eyebrow and studied him for what felt like forever. “Posing as a date? That’s way out of character for you. So, which category does she fall into?” When Michael didn’t answer, he continued. “Type A: the kind that wants you for money. Type B: the kind who wants you for sex, or Type C: the kind who doesn’t want you at all.”
    “None of those.” Which gave him a jolt as he thought about it. She didn’t fit. She wasn’t money hungry. She wasn’t out for sex. She’d turned him down. At first, he thought she fit into Type C, but after the kiss on the bridge, he knew that wasn’t correct either.
    His brothers exchanged looks again.
    “Really. It’s not like that. We’re just helping each other out.”
    The dog jumped off of Chance’s lap and wiggled under his chair. “Tell us about the wedding. How did that come about?”
    “Why does it matter?”
    “Because you’re acting weird—like you have a bag of shit in your pocket again—and I’m concerned.” He shot Will a look. “ We’re concerned.”
    He explained how the fake fiancé agreement came