Rent A Millionaire Groom. Judy Christenberry

children.” She tried to keep any sadness out of her voice. The past few years, when she played with her nieces and nephews, a longing she tried to keep buried rose in her. But she’d accepted that she would never hold her own child in her arms.

      “But what if someone in your family asks us about our plans to have children?”

      “Well, to appease them, just say we want children but we don’t know when or how many.”

      “Why are you so against marriage? Didn’t your parents have a happy marriage?”

      She definitely didn’t like this line of questioning. “Yes, they did. I want to know your shoe size.”

      He blinked several times, drawing attention to his blue eyes. “My shoe size? Is there some psychological connection that I’m missing?”

      She thought she’d pass out. Shoe size had been the first thing to come into her head, but women whispered about the shoe size being representative of the size of a certain other organ. Did James know that? She thought she’d die of embarrassment.

      “I—I thought my sisters would expect me to know that.”

      “Well, for your sisters’ edification, I wear a ten and a half. Oh, and I wear an extra-large shirt.”

      It was her turn to stare at him. Why would she need to know that?

      “In case you’re buying me a birthday present,” he added, with a cheeky grin. “Actually, I thought you’d ask the more important question.”

      When he didn’t continue, she asked, “What question?”

      “Boxers or briefs?”

      Elise tried to keep her chin up, fighting the embarrassment filling her, but she knew her cheeks gave her away. “Well?”

      “Briefs. And you? Do you wear a thong?”

      She’d stepped right into that one. Without warning, she opened the car door and got out. Then she leaned back in. “Never!” was her terse reply.

      But he had the last word. Before she could slam the door, she heard him say in that deep, silky voice, “Too bad.”

      Chapter Four

      “This is not going to work!” Elise assured her friends, pacing the floor.

      After she’d reached her apartment, she’d called Phoebe and Daisy to come join her. She needed some reassurance.

      “What’s not going to work?” Daisy asked. “He’s certainly handsome enough.”

      “Yes,” Elise agreed with a sigh.

      “Charm just oozes out of him,” Phoebe added. “If he goes professional, he’s going to be an enormous hit.”

      “Yes,” Elise agreed again.

      “So why won’t he work?” Daisy asked, her gaze fixed on Elise.

      “I’m the weak link. He makes me feel self-conscious. My sisters will never believe that I attracted that kind of man. It just won’t work.” She had to come up with some reason to break off the agreement. Even if she had to pay him the full amount. Even if she had to go to the wedding alone.

      “Maybe his method acting will help.” Phoebe’s grin alerted Elise.

      “Exactly what does that term mean?” James had mentioned it several times, but she really hadn’t paid much attention. Phoebe’s smile seemed to indicate it was important.

      “Um, in general terms, you live the part, pretend it’s really you.”

      “Live the part?” Elise asked, fear rising in her. The man was going to pretend he was really engaged to her? Oh, Lordy, she was in big trouble. If he touched her…kissed her— “I can’t do it!”

      Daisy was looking confused. “Why would method acting make you think you can’t go through with it? I would think that would make it easier.”

      Elise couldn’t answer.

      Phoebe did. “I think Elise is afraid it will become too real for her. He might break her heart when it’s over. That’s why a lot of actors fall in love with their co-stars. They pretend to fall in love and, voilà, they are.”

      “Oh.” Daisy shot a sympathetic look Elise’s way.

      “Yeah. And then, when it’s over, a good method actor moves on to his next part. We amateurs aren’t as skilled in—in moving on.” Elise didn’t think she would ever forget James Dillon, even now after one “research” evening. She wasn’t falling in love. No, not that. But—but she could.

      “I wish I could find someone like James,” Daisy said with a sigh.

      Elise saw a chance to break the agreement. “You’re right. I’ve been too selfish. I’ll tell James you have first dibs on any men we find and—”

      “No! You heard him. He’s not interested in being a father. And an actor really isn’t a good prospect. I just mean someone who—a man who knows what he wants. A man who finds his own way in the world. I’m tired of men who are looking for a second mother.”

      “He said he goes home to eat!” Elise protested, glad to find something to complain about.

      “Daisy’s right. He won’t do for her. Besides, she’s agreed to go out with the guy I found. Maybe he’ll do the trick.” Phoebe smiled at Daisy.

      Daisy returned the smile, but Elise thought they both looked doubtful. “What’s wrong with him?”

      Both friends said, “Nothing!” at the same time.

      “I mean, tell me about him. That’s what I meant.”

      Phoebe immediately launched into a sales campaign. “He’s divorced, has a twelve-year-old daughter. That’s how I met him. He brought his daughter to my class for young teenagers on how to apply makeup, so they don’t look like a Las Vegas show-girl. And he’s a dentist, very handsome.”

      “He puts his hands in other people’s mouths,” Daisy muttered.

      “He wears gloves, Daisy. And you haven’t met him. He’s charming.”

      “As charming as James?” Daisy countered.

      Phoebe made a face. “Not many men are as charming as James. But he’s pleasant. Give him a chance.”

      “Okay, okay. I said I’d go out with him. Friday, right?” Daisy asked.

      “Right. When are you going to see James again?” Phoebe asked Elise.

      “Friday.”

      “Hmm. Guess I’m on my own Friday night. Maybe I’ll see if the Madisons will take pity on me,” Phoebe said with a grin.

      Elise smiled back. The elderly couple who lived just down the hall from Phoebe loved feeding their single neighbors. The three women had a standing invitation for dinner. The only cost was listening to stories of the Madisons’ beloved grandson, Wyatt. Since none of them had ever met Wyatt, they had to take his besotted grandparents’ word on how perfect he was.

      “Maybe you should discuss Daisy with them. They’ll immediately offer Wyatt as a solution, and our problems will be solved!” Elise said with a chuckle.

      “I don’t think I could possibly be perfect enough for Wyatt,” Daisy protested, laughing.

      His perfection had become a standard joke among the three of them. When one of them intended to do something the other two thought was crazy, they always invoked Wyatt as a naysayer.

      Phoebe looked pensive. “You know, with all their talk about Wyatt, I don’t even know what he does for a living. They’re always talking about his childhood. Maybe because that’s all they know. He certainly doesn’t show up often. And they’re such sweet people.”