Holiday Hoax: A Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (The Cartwright Family Book 1)
Holiday Hoax: Chapter 11

Sebastian’s family is already seated when I enter the dining room. There are so many of them that his father had an oversized rectangular table made so everyone can eat together.

‘Sit here!’ Isabella orders, then tells Emma, ‘Move over so we can both sit by Georgia!’

Emma hops over as instructed.

Evelyn scolds, ‘Maybe Georgia wants to sit by Sebastian.’

‘Nope, that’s okay,’ I chirp, quickly sitting in the seat between the girls so I can stay away from Sebastian a little bit longer.

I’m still angry with him. I can’t believe he did that to me, and I still don’t understand why he’s so upset.

Sebastian grabs a chair across from me and gives me another guilty expression. I try to ignore him, but it’s hard with him directly facing me, giving me puppy dog eyes.

He even mouths, ‘Sorry.’

Since when does Sebastian Cartwright apologize?

Ruby, Ava, and Paisley carry dinner to the table. There’s prime rib, roasted root vegetables, couscous, and huge dinner rolls. Everything smells and looks delicious, and I realize how hungry I am.

Everyone gets situated with food on their plates, then we start eating. I engage in conversations, trying to avoid getting into any discussion with Sebastian. He keeps trying to pull me into them, but I answer curtly and then refocus on someone else.

He’s crossed the line this time. I’ve never felt so disrespected. I almost told him to rip up the prenup, but then I swallowed my pride, focusing on my end goal.

But if he thinks he can overstep and treat me horribly the entire month, he’s wrong.

When dinner is over, Alexander asks, ‘What’s for dessert?’

Ruby replies, ‘Leftover pies from Thanksgiving.’

Alexander groans, ‘Again?’

‘Hey, there’s a lot left. I can’t be baking every single day, you know,’ she claims.

Sebastian jumps up out of his chair. ‘Hold on. Georgia brought something you’ll all love.’ He winks at me, and my panties melt. He’s too gorgeous for me not to react to his flirtatious gesture.

This isn’t real. He’s only acting.

He’s a jerk. Don’t forget it!

My gut flips. I had forgotten to bring in the cupcakes. What will his family think of them? Will they react how he did when I first brought them into the office?

‘What did you bring us?’ Emma asks.

‘You have to wait and see,’ I answer.

‘No fair!’ she whines.

‘Tell us!’ Isabella demands, tugging on my arm.

I laugh, saying one of my grammy’s phrases. ‘Patience gets rewarded.’

Sebastian returns, carrying the boxes. Instead of his normal scowl, his face radiates something I’ve not seen on him before. I want to say it’s pride, but that would be foolish. Sebastian Cartwright has nothing but mediocre thoughts about my cupcakes.

Isabella claps. ‘Ooh, Uncle Sebastian. What’s inside?’

He sets the boxes on the table, announcing, ‘These are the world’s best cupcakes.’

I should be happy he said something nice about my cupcakes, but I don’t trust him after what he did to me.

‘Forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness,’ my grammy says in my head, which is what she used to always tell me whenever I’d get upset with someone.

Yet I’m having a hard time figuring out how to let this one go. I can’t stay mad at him all month, but I also refuse to be his doormat.

Sebastian opens the box and takes a caramel apple one out. He holds it close to Isabella’s mouth.

She shrieks, ‘I get the first one!’

Sebastian unpeels the wrapper. But instead of giving it to her, he takes a big bite. With his mouth full of cupcake, he says, ‘Sorry, I get the first one.’

‘Uncle Sebastian!’ She laughs, then adds, ‘I want the pink one!’

He chuckles and hands her a strawberry-lemon one.

‘What kind are they?’ Ruby asks.

I point to each cupcake. ‘Caramel apple, pumpkin with cream cheese frosting, peanut butter chocolate, and strawberry-lemon.’

‘They look amazing,’ Alexander states and snatches a peanut butter cupcake.

Everybody chooses what they want and begins raving about how wonderful they taste.

Joy fills me just like it does whenever anyone claims they love my desserts, but relief also fills me. It hits me how much I want the Cartwrights’ approval.

Sebastian announces, ‘Georgia’s going to open a cupcake bakery.’

‘Really? That’s amazing,’ Willow states.

I nod. ‘It’s always been my dream.’

‘These are amazing. What’s the secret?’ Ruby asks.

‘They’re my grammy’s recipes. I’ve never told anyone. Although, soon I’ll have to, I guess. I mean, if I’m going to go commercial with it.’

‘But you’ll tell me, right?’ she says with a hopeful look on her face.

I laugh, and offer, ‘Yeah, I can do better than that. I’ll show you how to make them while I’m here.’

‘Ooh. Can I help?’ Isabella asks.

‘Sure,’ I answer, putting my arm around her and kissing her on the head. The girls are just gorgeous, as are the little boys, and everyone in Sebastian’s family are different than I expected. They’re all so nice, and it makes me wonder why he doesn’t want to come home more often. If this were my family, I’d want to be around them. Plus, they all seem sincere.

Unlike him.

Forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness.

Ugh!

His mom states, ‘It’s nice to see you eat a dessert, Sebastian.’

He freezes and gives her a hardened look.

‘What? I’m just saying,’ she claims.

I interject, ‘He doesn’t eat them very often.’

‘Well, you know why, right?’ Willow asks.

‘He has a fat complex?’ I blurt out.

‘He used to be fat,’ Jagger mentions, stuffing more of his cupcake in his mouth.

Sebastian Cartwright was fat? No way.

I glance at Sebastian. He clenches his jaw.

‘Well, he had diabetes, if you want to know all the details,’ Ruby adds.

Shock hits me, along with a bit of worry. I ask him, ‘You had diabetes?’

‘I was a kid. I liked sweets. I ate a lot of them. That’s what happens when you eat too much sugar. I keep telling you this. So, yeah, I was diabetic, but I reversed it, and I’m trying not to ever have it again,’ he defensively admits.

‘With that strict diet you keep and all the workouts, you don’t need to worry about it anymore, Sebastian. I’ve told you several times you can relax a little bit,’ his mom says.

Sebastian’s face grows red. ‘Excuse me for not wanting to be diabetic, have to shoot myself up with insulin, put my limbs at risk of amputation, and die early.’

I make a note to figure out how to make some sugar-free cupcakes for him that don’t taste horrible. But then I scold myself. I’m not going to be married to him long enough to worry about that. Besides, why should I do anything for him when he’s been so mean and disrespectful to me?

Still, it can’t be easy turning down cupcakes all the time when I’m throwing them in his face.

I thought Sebastian was just overly worried about his fit body. This new information makes me feel bad for tempting him every day in the office.

Evelyn rises, breaking the tension, and proclaiming, ‘Time for ornaments.’

The kids get excited again and race into the other room.

Evelyn demands, ‘Georgia, you have to make one too.’

‘Is this a Cartwright thing?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, we do it every year. Then tomorrow, when the tree gets cut down and brought in, everyone has their new ornaments and old ones to put on the tree,’ she informs me.

‘Oh. That’s a great tradition. I’d love to make one,’ I admit and go into the other room.

Card tables are set up around the living room and are covered with tablecloths. Every imaginable art supply is available including stickers, glitter, glue, markers, and paints. Fake snow, tiny bunches of holly, construction paper, cotton, and other things are scattered all over the tables. Everyone gets a huge clear bulb to fill and decorate.

I decide to create a Christmas cupcake. I use construction paper to form a fake wrapper. I fill the bulb with dark-red glitter, then use cotton as the frosting. I sprinkle green glitter over it and paint the year on the lower corner of the wrapper.

I’m almost done with one when Sebastian sits down next to me. He grabs one of the bulbs, quizzing, ‘So you’re an artist too, huh?’

I shrug, then question, ‘You’re going to make an ornament?’

‘Yeah. Is that okay?’ he asks, giving me a look that makes me think he’s still walking on eggshells around me.

‘Of course,’ I reply, reprimanding myself for holding a grudge.

‘You sure?’

‘Yes. I just didn’t think you’d be into this,’ I admit.

He picks up a bulb. ‘I’m a professional. And you’re going to love mine.’

‘Why is that?’

‘You’ll see.’ He fills the bulb with green glitter, paints a red heart on the outside, then holds it in front of the tiny craft fan until it’s dry. He adds S + G in the middle of the heart, then adds the year at the bottom. He holds it out and winks, stating, ‘First ornament for us.’

I stare at it with mixed emotions. Part of me wishes his statement were true, but after this holiday is over, I’ll no longer be part of the Cartwright family.

I’ll be a memory like his other fiancées.

Something about that thought pains me.

I shake off the odd feeling, force a smile, then get up and focus on helping the kids make their ornaments.

We spend the rest of the evening playing with the kids. Isabella and Emma want me to tuck them in and tell them a story, so I read them Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Suess. Emma falls asleep, and Isabella can barely keep her eyes open. I kiss them both on the head and leave the room.

Sebastian’s in the hallway, leaning against the wall. ‘It looks like you have a fan club,’ he comments.

‘They’re adorable,’ I confess.

He nods, then stares at me a moment before asking, ‘Ready for bed?’

Nerves fill me. My stomach flips. The comment from the backyard flashes in my head.

It must register on my face because he lowers his voice and adds, ‘I was an ass. And I am sorry. Are you going to hate me forever, Sunshine?’

I want to fully trust him, but it’s hard, especially when I have to share a room with him. But I need to get over this, or the next month will be miserable. I square my shoulders, warning, ‘Don’t do it again.’

‘I won’t. Promise,’ he vows.

‘Okay. You’re forgiven.’

‘Just like that?’ he asks.

‘Yep.’

He grins. ‘Good. Thanks.’

A moment of silence passes between us, then he slings his arm around my waist, stating, ‘Let me show you our room.’

More butterflies fill my gut. How is it that a week ago I was starting a new job, and now I’m pretending to be my boss’s fiancée?

My utterly arrogant, way-too-sexy, and probably overly experienced boss who would use me and leave me with a broken heart without having an ounce of guilt.

That’s not fair.

It’s true.

I push my fears to the back of my mind and step into the bedroom suite. Our suitcases are already there. I point at the dresser. ‘Am I allowed to use that?’

‘Use as many drawers and as much closet space as you want. There’s plenty of room,’ he announces.

It shouldn’t surprise me. The dresser and the closet are huge. Still, I glance at them in awe. I start to unpack and offer, ‘Thanks.’

When I get to my underwear, Sebastian teases, ‘Ah, you did bring the granny panties?’

I spin on him, snapping, ‘Can you leave me alone? And stop judging me for everything. I’m just tired of it.’

He puts his hands in the air and sighs. ‘Georgia, I thought we made peace? I’m sorry I was a dickhead.’

Okay, so maybe I need to work on the forgiveness part.

‘You weren’t just a dickhead. You were offensive, rude, and disrespectful!’ I scold.

He nods. ‘I know. I’m sorry. What do I have to do to make this right?’

‘How about you stop being mean to me?’

‘Okay. I will.’

‘Why were you so nasty to me anyway?’ I ask, putting my hand on my hip.

He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut.

His silence makes me angrier. I snap, ‘I’m waiting for an answer. I at least deserve that, don’t you think? And be honest, Sebastian. Don’t feed me your lies.’

He furrows his eyebrows. ‘Do you really think that badly about me?’

Guilt fills me. But I’m not ready to back down. I feed him some of his own silence.

‘Guess I have a lot to work on,’ he mutters.

‘I’m still waiting for an honest answer,’ I declare.

He grinds his molars, glances at the ceiling, then refocuses on me. He admits, ‘I hate everyone talking about me behind my back, especially, about my past failed relationships. It makes me angry. A part of me is still upset that I fell for all their deceit. And I should have known they were all users, but I didn’t. So, I’m sorry I get a little unhinged when anyone talks about it behind my back.’

His answer makes me let down my guard a little bit. It was devastating to hear from his sisters and mom what his ex-fiancées did to him. Who acts like that anyway? I soften my tone. ‘I can understand why that would hurt you.’

‘Can we not talk about it anymore?’ he asks.

‘Okay. But I will say that I think they’re horrible people.’

‘Yeah, they are. And I wish it didn’t make me angry anymore, but it does.’

I blurt out, ‘Maybe you need to work on some forgiveness, then.’

He scrunches his face. ‘Forgiveness? I didn’t do anything to them. Regardless of what you think about me, I was good to them. I can assure you that I was nothing but good, beyond generous, and kind.’

‘I didn’t say you weren’t, Sebastian. But if you’re this angry about it and it makes you do stupid things like what you did to me in the backyard, then you need to work on forgiving them.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You have to forgive them for what they’ve done. It doesn’t mean you have to forget it, but if you forgive them, at least it won’t hurt as badly.’

He stares at me for a while, then states, ‘I’m going to shower. Do you need anything?’

My butterflies kick up again. The thought of his sweaty chest when he pulled me onto his lap in the office flashes in my mind. I reply, ‘No, I’m okay. I’ll keep unpacking.’

‘All right, Sunshine.’ He winks and goes into the bathroom, and my pulse creeps up.

I stare at the bed, thinking thoughts that I shouldn’t have anywhere in my mind. I tear my eyes off it, then finish unpacking.

He steps out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. His skin glistens, taut over his ripped flesh, as if he’s some kind of god.

My cheeks heat, and I gape at him.

‘Is that drool?’ he teases.

Flustered, I grab my pajama bottoms and tank top. I rush past him, closing the bathroom door and locking it.

I toss my hair into a knot, take a quick shower, then brush, floss, and rinse with mouthwash. I get dressed, then stare at myself in the mirror.

There’s nothing to worry about.

It’s Sebastian Cartwright—Mr. Smooth Moves.

I take a deep breath, lift my chin, then open the door. I point to the couch. ‘You can sleep there.’

He looks at me in horror. ‘What?’

I point to the floor. ‘Or you can sleep there.’

He chuckles. ‘This is a king-size bed, Sunshine. There’s plenty of room for both of us.’

‘Too bad for you that I still don’t trust you.’ I smirk.

He groans. ‘Seriously, Georgia? I’m not sleeping on the couch. I’m tall. There’s no way I’ll fit on that thing. Look at it. It is a love seat.’

I shrug. ‘The floor will work, then.’

‘I’m a thirty-six-year-old man. I don’t sleep on the floor, especially a wood one,’ he claims.

A tad of guilt appears, but I push it away. I cross my arms and give him my most challenging stare.

He grumbles, ‘Fine. I’ll sleep on the floor.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’ I slip under the covers.

Sebastian shakes his head at me, goes into the closet, and returns with a blanket and a pillow. He mutters, ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Shh. I’m tired,’ I claim and turn off the light.

He pleads, ‘Can we please act like adults? I can sleep on the other side of the bed, far away from you?’

‘Nope,’ I reply, then snuggle down under the covers.

Silence fills the air. It feels like a long time, but it’s probably only a few minutes. All of a sudden, I hear a stirring.

Sebastian’s warm body slides next to mine under the covers.

I jump up and turn the light on, accusing, ‘What are you doing?’

He asserts, ‘I’m not sleeping on the floor, Georgia. I’m sorry, but no. You could have put that in the prenup, but you didn’t. So you’re just going to have to deal with me sleeping next to you. Got it?’

‘I’m not okay with this,’ I state, but it sounds weak. The heat from his body makes me want to move closer.

‘Well, you should have put it in writing,’ he murmurs, his hot breath tingling my ear.

‘And you’re back to being rude and disrespectful,’ I tell him.

He huffs. ‘Me? You want me to sleep on a wood floor. Who’s the real rude one in this situation?’

I bury my face in the pillow, uttering, ‘You’re impossible.’

‘Are you going to keep the light on all night or turn it off?’ he asks.

What Sebastian Cartwright wants, he always gets.

He wants me.

He doesn’t really want me. He wants to use me for the next month and then discard me.

Not letting that happen.

I turn off the light, then slide back under the covers. ‘Make sure you stay on your side of the bed.’

His intoxicating scent of praline and a hint of citrus mixed with sandalwood seems to grow more intense. My pulse skyrockets and my heart rapidly beats. Sebastian slides his arm under my back and tugs me into his body, rolling me so I’m facing him.

‘What are you doing? I told you to stay on your side of the bed.’

He chuckles. ‘I am on my side of the bed. But you’re on my side of the bed too.’

‘Sebastian,’ I reprimand, but I also don’t move. I can’t. His warm frame feels too good against mine. I curse myself for not moving.

He grabs my thigh and slings my leg over his body.

‘What are you doing?’ I shriek again.

‘Shh. This is better, admit it,’ he challenges.

‘Says who?’ I manage to get out. But he’s right. Every part of our bodies entwined feels like heaven.

‘Do you have something against cuddling?’ he murmurs, his lips against my hair.

‘I didn’t know it was in my contract to cuddle,’ I retort.

‘Calm down. I won’t do anything.’

I relax a little. ‘You promise you’re not going to try anything funny?’

‘Funny? Nope,’ he replies, but something feels fishy about it.

I stay quiet, trying to lower my racing pulse.

He adds, ‘Not unless you want me to.’

I nudge him in the ribs. He laughs. ‘Ouch! Between that and your slap, you’re pretty vicious, Sunshine.’

Against the advice from the voice in my head, I snuggle closer to his chest and close my eyes. I warn, ‘Well, now you know what I’m capable of, so no funny business.’

He grunts.

No matter how hard I try to sleep, I can’t. All I can smell is him. All I hear is his breathing mixing with my pulse pounding between my ears. And tingles attack every part of my body.

What’s worse is I don’t think I’ve ever craved anyone before. Right now, at this moment, I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through the night with Sebastian Cartwright.

Then, he makes it even harder.