Page 38 of The Fake Husband Deal

I went down on one knee and held his hands in mine. His eyes opened wide and he tried to speak, but no sound came out.

Even if he was unsure about what I was doing, maybe on some level, he wanted it too. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

“Lior Van Stern, will you marry me?”

Lior

Bernard appeared in my periphery as Noah popped the question and then stared at me impatiently.

“Are you expecting me to say yes?” I whispered, leaning forward.

“That’s why I asked the question. Do you need me to come up with a speech? I’m not sure I can come up with one on the fly, considering I didn’t know I was going to do this until ten seconds ago.”

I shook my head. “Oh, Noah.”

He shrugged.

“What’s happening, Lior?” Bernard asked.

“I’m so sorry, Bernard. Can you give us a moment?”

He frowned but started walking toward the bar.

“We’re going to need a little longer than that,” Noah said, looking as smug as ever. Boy, I could spank his perfect ass right now.

I sighed. “Stay here.”

“On my knees?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Don’t make me break the rules, Noah.”

“We’re making brand-new ones.”

I walked to the bar where Bernard stood awkwardly fiddling with his bow tie. I used to think they were cute and matched him perfectly. Now, I wasn’t so sure he or his bow ties were for me.

“I’m so sorry, Bernard. I have to…” I pointed to our table, where Noah picked on the wings and drank my beer.

“Okay. Do you want a raincheck?” he asked hopefully, but his face fell when mine gave my real feelings away.

“But your mom?—”

I placed my hand on his arm. “Bernard, nothing in this situation should ever start with those words. If you were here because of my mom or yours, then surely you must know that leaving now is the right thing to do.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just that before we…you know, it was good.”

“It was, but that was twenty-five years ago. We were young, not ready for more, and it barely lasted a few months. We’re older now and too set in our ways. Maybe it was never meant to be more than it was.”

“Do you really believe that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I can’t tell you that I think this could be more when I don’t feel that way. It would be deceiving and unfair. I’m sorry I reached out to you. I know our moms are friends. Maybe we can be too.”

He sighed. “Thank you for being honest. I think you’re right. What are you going to do about…him?”

“He deserves a fucking good spanking.”

“You were always good at those.” He blushed.

“Find someone who makes you blush like that, Bernard. You’re a good man, and contrary to popular belief, it’s not yet too late. Our bones might remind us of our age in the morning, but the night is ours.”